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"We should go through his underwear drawers." Niall clapped as he walked through the apartment door. Harry gave Louis permission to have them over only if they stayed out of their room.
"Ni," Zayn groaned, rolling his eyes at his boyfriend as his golden eyes scanned the room. He could see that it was dull before Louis came. Everything was grey but now it had a splash of color like stickers on the fridge and posters on the walls of soccer players and Bob Marley.
"Harry the dictator said that you guys cant go in the room." Louis stated, plopping down on the couch with his hand already reaching for the tv remote. He would have felt self conscious since he was wearing a short sleeved shirt that showed all of his scars and stitches but he trusted the two so he knew they wouldn't be looking there.
"What are we? Five?" Niall mumbled, taking a seat beside his mate. "So give me all the news. You know i'm nosey." He shifted in his seat to face the blue eyed man as he did the same for him.
"Tell me about you and Zayn first."
The dark haired man's ears perked up as he heard his name, turning his attention from the pictures on the fridge to the two on the couch. He was about to say something but closed him mouth since its not like Louis would run off and tell Harry.
There's no pictures of him, he mentally stated, only seeing Louis with his family and a few with him playing soccer.
He honestly hasn't been sleeping well. He would like to distract his mind from the guilty thoughts in his head but he couldn't stop them. He wanted to believe that Harry was an asshole and deserved everything that he's gotten but he never knew him before the accident.
What if he was a nice boy who just reacted badly to an injured person? Or what if he was a dickhead who should get what is coming to him?
He was convincing himself that he was a bad person. He was trying to see things as if Harry was just a killer instead of someone who was pulled away from his family.
He just felt like shit.
Zayn sighed as he looked at yet another smiling picture of Louis, causing him to think back to what the man said about not going into their room. He was never one to snoop but he just needed to confirm in his head that Harry wasn't good.
With a flick of his wrist, he made a copy of himself that would only last for a few minutes while he appeared inside the room. His eyes instantly went to the trunk at the foot of the bed.
He crouched down in front of it, feeling at the metal lock that clicked open at the snap of his fingers. "Oh god," he breathed, looking down at all of the weapons that were scattered inside. He could see knives, rope, blindfolds, guns, plastic bags that looked large enough to fill a head, he couldn't go on.
His hands raked through the items inside, noticing how some were rusted while others looked brand new. His mind was beginning to feel set on the thoughts he had been convincing himself of until he spotted a pile of paper spread out on the inside.
