Young & Beautiful

“Chat about what exactly?” Louis asks, heart positively pounding, as he sits up. “Niall.”
“She’s being asking me advice for a week now, but. Then this morning she called and… And all
she could do was warn us, really. Because he didn’t give her any warning.”
“Who? Warn us about what?” Louis’ voice is sharp, his eyes spearing Niall with all the intensity
that now hums beneath his skin.
At that, Niall sighs, hanging his head and closing his eyes. His shoulders are tense, his hands are
clenched and pale and taught and his whole demeanor is anything but Niall. It’s horrible, really.
And it should make Louis sympathize but all it does is make him angrier.
“Spit it the fuck out,” he practically growls, sitting up even straighter, because how is it fair that
this involves him yet Niall knows, of all people? That his mum went to Niall?
“Your father’s coming,” is all he says, rubbing the pad of his finger over the surface of his
polished Rolex, now carefully avoiding Louis’ gaze.
And whoosh. All the air leaves the planet Earth. Louis’ stomach feels like it’s been kicked by
Hercules.
His…father? The invisible one? The one he hasn’t seen or spoken to in years?
“What?” he manages to utter.
Niall looks up, pained. “Your mum called this morning. He called her, said he was on his way—“
“On his way?!” Louis bellows, feeling a cold sweat prickle. What the actual fuck? Is he on a
reality show?
Niall rushes on. “He didn’t give her a choice, he just told her to tell you so you would expect him
—“
“Expect him?! I barely even remember what he looks like, Niall! He hasn’t talked to me in years!
How the fuck do I expect him?? What do I do?!” Louis belts, and he can barely even think
because what?
This is bizarre. Everything’s bizarre.
“Listen,” Niall says, firmly. “I know this is fucked up. But I’ll be here. I won’t leave, I promise,
and I have no problem asking him to leave—“
And Louis appreciates that, he really does. Somewhere deep inside Niall’s words warm him. But
right now…he’s in for the kill.
So he rounds on Niall.
“And just why the fuck were you and my mum discussing this for a week and yet never bothered
to tell me?!” he snaps, kicking the blankets off of his body. “What kind of fucking mother tells her
son’s flatmate that his father—who doesn’t speak to him, refuses to see him, even—is suddenly
deciding to stop by for tea?!”
“I doubt he wants tea.”
“What kind of fucked up situation is this?!” Louis plows on, ignoring him. “What kind of person
is she?! Fucking horrible! My own fucking mum can’t tell me—“