Young & Beautiful

**
Just as Louis suspected, Harry did not text.
He’s in bed before the moon has barely even risen—after having read his youngest sisters bedtime
stories and sat and chatted softly with the older ones and kissed his mum on the cheek—and he
hates his phone right now, wishes he didn’t need to obsessively check it for Harry’s name.
He sees a stream of texts from Niall that he doesn’t read, most of them with exclamation points,
and he knows they’re good, knows they’re all having fun, most definitely won, and he’ll hear
about it later, he will, but right now he needs himself, the silence, and the quiet knowledge of
nothing.
So he sets his phone down, punches his pillow into a cold, inviting ball, and drops down like dead
weight.
Sleep. He will sleep and then tomorrow, in the morning, he’ll think.
**
It’s definitely not morning when a sharp buzz jolts him awake.
The monotonous wail of his phone fills the room as it rumbles on the table, making the room
glow. It startles Louis momentarily before it stops and darkens, returning the room to silence and
peace.
He’d put money on it being Niall. Probably drunk. Most definitely drunk. Calling Louis to sing
him a victory song.
Rubbing his burning, dry eyes, Louis stretches as much as he can as he reaches for his phone,
checking his notifications and—
Twenty-three missed calls.
From Rory.
Twenty-three.
Something icy spikes through Louis.
So he reads all of his texts next—Niall exclaiming ‘WEVE FUCKIN WON’ around eight PM.
‘WE WON AGAIN’ fifteen minutes later. ‘WISH YOU WERE HERE MATE LOVE YA’ five
minutes later. ‘Why aren’t you here?? :(’ from Liam around the same time. Another from Liam
that says ‘Will you be coming out with us after? :(‘ and a ‘U okay?’ from Zayn seven minutes
later. A picture of them all huddled together looking beautiful around nine-thirty. Harry’s there.
He’s giving his fake smile, his eyes closed off and dull, too many teeth showing. He hasn’t said
anything to Louis.
But then the texts stop. And that’s it.
And then, at three in the morning. Twenty-three consecutive missed calls from Rory. Rory of all
people.
Something’s not right.
All Louis can think about is Niall and his heart beats painfully hard, unhealthily fast, and