How do I tell him? ~ L.S

1

Best friends since the beginning. Biggest boy band in the world. Falling in love. Kept secrets and angry fans. Does love last? Is it even love? Can one tell the other?

Louis Tomlinson

"Louis? Come on, mate, get your shit!" Liam calls. I roll my eyes and try to zip mu suitcase. Clothes pour out the sides and I shove them back in as I continue to tug helplessly on the zipper. "Fuck" I curse and let out a groan of frustration.

My door pops open and Harry peaks in.

"Need help?" He asks with a giggle. I just step back, allowing him to try. He steps in front of me, our arms brush when he passes, and he starts to attempt to zip up my pack.

I watched his hands work at the clothes, trying to keep them out of the way of the zipper tracks, his muscles flex under the ink in his arms, the way he chewed on his bottom lip out of concentration... and finally...

"Fucking Finally" He sighs out. Oh. Shit.

"Thanks, Hazza" I grin and wrap my arms around him. He hugs me back warmly, mumbling a quick "Of course, Lou" into my hair before we let go. I pick up the heavy suitcase and we leave the little room. In the couch part of the big hotel room, Liam is waiting.

"Finally! Was thinking you just gave up" He says with a smile. I roll my eyes but return the grin. We all head out into the hotel halls and get ushered around until we're in a van in the car park. I sigh and lean against the window.

"Can we smoke in here?" I hear Zayn ask. Immediately, I sit up. The driver nods and Zayn takes out his smokes. I hold my hand out, silently wanting one, and he happily passes one between my first two fingers.

"Thanks, mate" i mumble as I place it between my lips. He flicks on his lighter and I lean down to it.

"That's bad for you, Lou" Harry mumbles from the back seat. I look back at him and take a long drag then blow it out my nose while showing a smirk. His eyes watch the smoke disappear into the air then his eyes flick back to mine. He shows a soft smile then scoots himself over. I happily climb over the seat of the van, accidentally kicking Zayn in the process, then I land myself in the back with the curly boy.

"Sorry, Z. Did I damage your gravity-defying hair?" I joke. He just flips me off. I giggle and turn to Harry. He reaches down to my hand and takes the cigarette from my fingers. For a second, I think he's gonna put it out... Instead, he holds it up to my lips.

I part them, just enough, then he places it between my lips, and I take a breath. He watches my lips with his shimmering green eyes then takes the stick away and watches as I let smoke fall from my mouth, up into my nose, then smoothly out of my mouth as the feeling of nicotine sifts through my brain.

"Pretty" he mumbles

I smile a little and look down. I gently take it back from his hand then stub it out on the bottom of my shoe. I reach over the seat and hand the half cigarette to Zayn. He frowns a little but takes it. I turn back to Harry. He's got a soft, content smile on his lips.

"You put it out" He says

I simply nod then quote him... "It's bad for me"

His eyes flicker between mine for a second then he looks out the side window. I can't seem to take my eyes away from him though.

What's happening??

He's so pretty. So beautiful. Gorgeous, even. Maybe perfect... or as close as a human can get to it. His soft curls, growing so they fall just by his ears. Long and soft. He pushes it back often with a scarf. Sometimes sunglasses. His shirt is simply red with a front pocket. His sweatpants are baggy. His inked-up arms are exposed from the t-shirt. His shoes are ugly purple trainers. The worst. But he loves them... and he's had them for years, it seems. His eyes. His smile. His jaw. The frown-wrinkle between his eyebrows. His dimples. God, those dimples. 

This curly headed boy might just be the death of me...