chapter six

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"Hey, Louis."

"Louis?"

"Do you just like to ignore me, or—"

Louis' eyes shoot open, and "Shit, I'm sorry," he yawns, sliding up in his chair before he slides onto the ground, "I'm listening."

"No," Niall says, his face trained on Professor Miller as she intros their latest assignment, like he's actually retained something from her rightful yet hopeless scolding, "No, you're not."

So maybe he wasn't. But maybe it isn't his fault. Maybe he's been going out at midnight to play footie for the past two weeks and he's a little exhausted. Maybe he doesn't mention that bit.

"I'm tired." Louis deadpans, wiping the sleep from his eyes.

Niall gives Louis a snobbish sideways glance, "I know, you were snoring a minute ago."

Louis pries his eyes away from Professor Miller when she turns toward the blackboard, "Well, it's rude to wake someone, Niall." he jests, elbowing the blond under the table.

Niall doesn't laugh. He doesn't even elbow Louis back. Instead, he scoffs humourously, "Ha, great joke. Now, one question," he turns his face toward Louis', whose eyebrows have now furrowed in some type of fear as Niall stares at him unrelentingly, "Do I wanna know why Harry came home at three this morning and you look like you didn't go to bed until three?"

A moment passes.

"Half-two, actually." Louis shrugs his shoulders, swallowing roughly in a room that suddenly feels a lot drier. He averts his attention to the lecture, smiling politely when makes eye contact with Professor Miller—three parts avoidance, one part interest.

"Oh, excuse me." Niall actually laughs at that, the real kind, the kind that has his blond hair flopping down into his eyes.

Louis is laughing, too. He runs his hand over his eyes in defeat when Professor Miller turns her back, "Fine. On Halloween, he saw my number on the fridge and—"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say." Niall interrupts, waving his hand between them.

Louis' mouth falls open in protest, "Seriously Niall, we just play footie—" but Niall's already moved on, turning his torso to face Louis.

A moment passes. Louis opens his mouth again. The blond shushes him with his index finger.

"You have my blessing." Niall says.

Louis chokes back a laugh, "Are Harry and I getting married or are you Harry's father?" he jokes, and judging by the way the blond's eyes well up with actual tears, "Shit, you're serious?" Louis whispers, leaning into Niall as his hands drop back into his lap.

After having just given away his best mate like a daughter, Niall looks poised and proud and not entirely insane. He turns his attention back to Professor Miller, not even sparing Louis a second glance.

Right.

Louis rolls his eyes amicably, returning to the lecture. Professor Miller smiles at him in between her endless analogies and Louis smiles back, but not before leaning over to Niall.

"Blessing accepted." He whispers.





            Caught in the wind, a paper darts down the pavement toward Louis.

"Oh, shit," Louis lets go of the theatre's door handle and lunges backward, stomping his foot down onto the loose sheet, "Got it! I got it—" He stops himself there. Because he is looking down at his own handwriting.

A Piece of His Heart / larry uni AUWhere stories live. Discover now