My Gay Roommate (L.S)

Thirty Eight

I curl further in on myself, the duvet coocooning me, making me feel like a caterpillar going through its final cycle before becoming a butterfly.

I keep my eyes shut, not wanting to get up. My nose nuzzles into the cotton of the pillow, a sigh leaving my lips.

I can hear Louis mooching around, the doors of the wardrobes clanking shut, drawers slamming slightly.

"Come on, pretty boy, it's time to wake up," he softly coos, and I feel his moisturised hand gently caress my cheek.

I turn around to face the other direction, groaning into my pillow. "Let me nap," I grumble.

He chuckles lightly through his nose. "Harry. It's three in the afternoon, and Niall is going to bustle into this room and drag you by your feet if you don't get ready in the next ten minutes."

I sigh loudly. "Do we have to go?" I question, peeping an eye open to look up at him.

He smiles down at me, hair flopping and sticking up all over the place like a hedgehog. I notice he's just in a really baggy tshirt—one of mine, the Fleetwood Mac merch one I adore— it grazes against his knees, it's too big on me, so it's a no brainer it's bigger on him too.

"I'd much rather stay in bed and smother you with kisses and cuddles," I state.

He coos again as the pout forms on my face. He bops my nose, and I wiggle it after. "Even though that sounds fuckin' amazing, I want to go to this small gathering. Ed's pool is supposedly huge according to Nialler. He didn't invite us for nothing, he wants to see us all and hang out with us as Niall's friends."

I mean, okay, sure. Ed did invite us because he wants to hang out with us after hearing so much from Niall about us. But is it criminal that I also want to just sit in Louis' small bed, watch the sun lazily fall from the sky in a few hours time to be met with the twinkling stars of the night? Is it that bad that I'm not really feeling up to the whole socialisation today?

I honestly don't know how to feel. It's one of those days where everything is pounding in my brain, thoughts zooming past faster than a strobe light at a disco. My brain keeps muddling. It keeps bringing up the fact that I didn't care what pronoun that lady used a few days ago when we were at Louis'. It's telling me that I'm being ridiculous even thinking about which pronoun I'd prefer. It hurts my head knowing that my mind says one thing whilst people around me say another.

Louis told me he didn't care which one I'd prefer to go by. He also said I didn't need to figure it out yet, but something in me is telling me to figure out quicker so I can stop the thoughts from swallowing me hole. But it's difficult to decide, because it's such a big commitment, and what if I choose wrong? What if I choose going by one thing and later down the line I wish I could revert back to before?

Argh, life is so difficult.

"Princess," Louis mumbles, clicking his fingers in front of my face. "You zoning out? What's on your mind?"

I look over to him, shaking my head to clear it. "Nothing." I look around the room, having to squint my eyes a little as the sun beams through the window. "I don't even think I have any swimwear."

Louis shakes his head. "You could always go commando." When he sees the look on my face, he laughs. "Jesus, Haz, 'm only teasing. I have a spare pair of shorts if you want."

"And why did you come packed with two pairs of swimming shorts?" I ponder.

"In case I shat meself in one of them." He grins over at me, nose scrunching slightly and his eyes crinkle along the corners. "I knew Niall had this planned when we went to mine, so I packed two because I had a funky feeling you didn't have any," he explains.