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SONG OF THE CHAPTER: Naive- The Kooks
(the gif my beb niiii)

Leave fedback below, please x

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Niall was petrified, the cool marble of his kitchen counter felt like it was sizzling against his warm skin as he held his head in his hands. The lights felt too bright and his head was spinning after escaping the guest house in the early hours of the morning due to the panicked response of seeing himself and a runner in bed together- naked.

Louis was yet to show up, though it was only half past six and the sun was barely rising. Niall had drunk two cups of tea already, decaffeinated to prevent him from bouncing around for the next six hours, and his feet were tapping against the metal bar on the bar stood in an uneven rhythm that matched with the scattered pulse of his thoughts.

His eyes remained on the dark white surface, blinking on occasion and slightly watery from fatigue. Strips of din sunlight slipped through the gap in the blind across the kitchen and threatened to heighten his already painful headache. The clock ticked at a steady pace; minutes passing like seconds as his thoughts ran in circles around the vision of the dark head of hair and tanned, slightly muscular arm against his paler complexion.

Rain slowly built up outside, pelting against the window in an abundance of taps and splats that did nothing for Niall's miserable state. He stood, though, and felt his head spin as he did so. He had a meeting with the doctor in four hours, and couldn't afford to be so in the clouds.

Luckily, Louis strolled through to the kitchen at around seven, dressed in his usual work attire and with a mug of warm tea in hand. He dragged Niall up the stairs and into the nearest bathroom with a shower.

"Wash up and do something with your hair. I'll put clothes in your room and have some food out." He said slowly, watching as his friend nodded and hesitantly pulled his shirt from his body. Louis left the room and felt the door lock behind his hand as he let it go.

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Harry looked tired, the creases under his eyes that held a purple hue signalled a bad night's sleep, but his talk was lively and his walk contained his usual bounce that assured Louis that he wasn't hungover or ill. The hospital was still awakening, a few nurses milling around with papers and pens in hand and small smiles on their faces. The lights were their usual bright white and it blinded Louis in the same clean way it always did as he entered. Harry's office, luckily, was currently lit by the sun filtering through the large window. They took their usual seats, setting their mugs of hot drinks on the counter with small huffs of breath and gently sat across the room from one another.

"Niall will be here at eleven." Louis cleared his throat, letting his eyes drift around the room. Taking in the cupboards and Harry's scrawl of writing on the label of every storage, the boxes, the draws and cupboards. The man himself nodded, jotting something down before turning on his computer; that whirred to life with a grunted sigh and buzzed away as it loaded.

"We have another batch of runners coming in from ten. They're older ones again, so it'll probably be quite hostile and heavy."

"Yeah, I know." Louis hummed out gently. The runners who came in were rugged and unkempt. Louis decided that organising for these lads to have haircuts and to shave the thin stubble that adorned their upper lips and jaw lines would be a good idea, make them look less wild and more like well-respected lads.

"Mate," Harry breathed at one point, the clock ticking faintly in the background as his wide eyes glanced over to Louis. "You need to get this properly checked out, you have a serious infection." The boy's back had a dark red streak from his shoulder blade to the bottom of his rib cage on his left side. It was a dark red and the skin around it was taut and a dark yellow colour. Puss was spread across the inside of his shirt and the surrounding areas of his tanned back. "Louis, grab me some wipes." So Louis did, because more puss was seeping from the wound and it needed some attention. The boy was scowling at the wall when the wipe cleaned out the cut; it would most likely leave a scar in its wake once healed, but at least they could treat it. "Alright, I've got you a nurse to sort it out thoroughly." Harry muttered, tapping at his computer harshly before poking his head out his office door with a frown.

The lad's name was Will, and his brown eyes followed Harry's every move like he was a trophy to be won. His hair was a mess on his head, drooping over his eyes and one section crisp with dried blood from a head injury a few days prior. Harry cleaned it up, checking his eyes for any obvious sign of sight problems before sending him away with the nurse.

"He was watching you quite intensely," Louis murmured, the office had gone silent and Harry pushed the window open to let in some fresh air and whip away the stale scent of dried blood and dirt.

"Yeah. Looked pretty nervous to be honest. He's twenty-eight, oldest one they have." He clicked three times on his computer, the beast of a machine whirring to life as it saved the lad's documents.

"Will's been there since I can remember. Niall was never allowed to see the runs or anything, but I still had to do things in the arena when I was younger." Louis thought back to the damp and dark basement of the arena he used to scamper into and record pointless things like the boys' eye colour. He supposed it was just to prepare him for when Niall took over. "He used to have these curls that went all over the place, and big dimples. We were kids then, though, haven't spoken to him in yonks."

"He must be in agony, I'm not surprised. As for the curls," He paused, flashing a tiny smile to his colleague, "They have a mind of their own."

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Zayn winced at the pain that throbbed in his head as he threw yet another punch at the bag. It swung away from him with the force, and his arm ached from the effort, hand clammy in the curved glove that protected his fist. A trainer was by his side, steadying the bag every few punches and critiquing his technique every now and then.

Sweat beaded at the back his tanned neck, beside his hairline. A thin rivulet also creeping down his temple from the exertion, muscled complaining and knees clicking as he bounced on his toes for momentum.

The facility felt too bright, and all too new. He didn't feel safe, not that he particularly did before, but everything was happening too fast and without warning. He almost missed the familiarity of being whipped and forced to run endlessly in the heated sun; the welsh man beside him was new and wore expensive gym wear along with a lanyard stating his identity. It was strange and new and Zayn had never liked change.

He threw a harder punch, his brother's face in his mind, encouraging him to work harder. Do better.

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I hope you all had a lovely Christmas and Boxing day. I know this chapter is late, but I've been busy with family occasions and such so I'm really sorry about that.

I wish you all a happy new year and the best for 2016! Hopefully this story will have more updates and be finished by April??? Idk I cannot plan ahead like this lol.

QUESTION OF THE CHAPTER: What is the point of Harry being there, why is it Harry and not some randomer?

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