olivia [zarry]

chapter twelve| having no regrets is all that they really want

"Wow, that's quite a fancy suit you're wearing there, lad," Niall hollers, teasingly waggling his eyebrows at Louis, who's finally decided to leave his bedroom and grace the rest of them with his presence in the living area.

Harry almost laughs when he notices that he's still dusting what just may be imaginary dirt off his shoulders. (He thinks that Lou's been doing that for at least the last twenty minutes now, and there can't be anything left, can there?)

"I didn't even know you owned more than just the one you wore at Zayn's party. You got a hot date tonight or summat?"

His roommate immediately scowls at Niall's words but doesn't say anything. He must be more nervous than Harry originally thought.

"He's right," Zayn cuts in. "Things must be getting pretty serious between you and Li if you're getting all dressed up like this just for him."

Louis' faces breaks into a sarcastic smile. "Hilarious, really. Now, do me a favor and fuck off?" He tells the two before turning to Harry as he swipes his hair out of his eyes. "How do I look, Harold?" He asks breathlessly.

"Like an absolute dream," Harry replies without hesitation, because he was with Louis in his bedroom before Niall and Zayn even came over, and he knows how utterly nervy his friend really is about tonight.

"Cheers, mate," he smiles at Harry gratefully.

"So where're you boys headed for the big six month anniversary dinner?" Niall seriously wonders aloud, reaching for his beer off the coffee table.

"I wish I knew, Neil," Louis frowns, biting at the nail on his thumb. "Liam just told me to dress nice. You think this is good enough?" He asks yet again.

"For the hundredth time, Lou," Harry rolls his eyes, "you look terrific, but honestly, since when have you even cared? You know that Liam'll love you in anything that you wear."

"Or out of anything that you wear," Zayn attempts to mumble discreetly, and Harry elbows him.

Louis opts to ignore him once more as his brow furrows further. "I- I know, but I just wanted to give him this at least. Is that so crazy?"

"Alright, mate, what's with you tonight?" Zayn interrogates, sounding amused. "I don't think that I've ever seen you act this way for someone who wasn't a part of your family."

"Meaning?"

"You're acting all soft and gentle and wanting everything to go perfect just 'cause it's him."

Niall snorts, interrupting him. "Please, you're one to talk," he mutters as if he didn't want anyone else to hear him.

But "Right," Louis readily agrees loudly, "like he isn't exactly the same, if not worse, when it comes to Harry. They both are."

Harry chuckles. "I'm right here, Lou," he reminds him from where his head rests on Zayn's thighs. He knows that he shouldn't even bother trying to refute their claims- he'd ended up in this very position just a few minutes ago because Zayn ungrudgingly gave in to his demands to pet him, after all, and he knows that'd he'd do the same if Zayn asked- so he simply lifts one of his shoulders in a careless shrug instead. "But I guess you're right. The only difference between our two relationships, though, would be that Zayn and I have actually admitted that we love each other, yeah? How's that going for you again?"

Louis glares at him for that, and he's aware that he deserves every bit of his dirty look for using that against him, but he can't really bring himself to care right now, especially when he's more focused on the feeling of Zayn's fingers caressing his scalp.