Living in London

Decision

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ARIADNE'S POV

I'm happy that the boys have their fans. Without them they would have gotten nowhere- the boys say so themselves all the time. Not only that, though, they are always there to pick them up when haters get them down. I don't think the boys realize how much power they actually have over the Directioners. The boys say 'jump', the girls say 'how high?'. If anyone ever crossed any of the boys, they could easily set fifty thousand screaming girls on the person and the Directioners would happily do the dirty work. Not all of the girls are like that, I'm sure, but a small group are.

And that small group is what I'm worried about. If I publicly release the break up with Zayn and the get with Harry a few days later, I'm not going to need Number Withheld because the fans will tear me apart anyway.

I sighed. I have no idea what to do.

---

HARRY's POV

That moment with Ariadne... it was just so... I can't even think of any words. Ariadne is with Zayn. That means off-limits.

I called dibs.

Which also means off-limits.

Clearly I have two options and two options only. Either I:

A) Ignore my feelings and push them to the back of my mind. Then I would move out of the apartment and into one that allows pets, unintentionally losing touch with the boys. Then I would go on a pet-spree and buy five cats to start my collection. Then I will name them Tricky, Sticky, Licky, ricky and Clive. Then I will have an emotional breakdown when Clive runs away because he can't handle my emotional self-pity. Then Tricky, Sticky, Licky, ricky and will catch on to the reason why Clive bolted and then they will leave too. Then I will buy sixty nine turtles and be known as that weird turtle guy from apartment B74.

Or I could:

B) Smuggle Ariadne onto a plane in my luggage. The plane will take us to Mexico City where we will live happily in someone's basement under the names of Mr Esteban and Mrs Latoya Fernandez. We will have two beautiful children named Inez and Prudence and a dog named El Barko. No-one will ever find us.

That could all be ours with one call to the witness protection program.

Or I suppose if I had to I could be rational and speak to someone...

Not a psychiatrist- what are you trying to say?!

Ahem.

"LIAM!" I called at the top of my lungs.

A few seconds later he appeared in my doorway. "What is it?! What's wrong?!"

"Come in. I need to talk to someone."

"That's why you called me? By your tone I thought someone was in here trying to murder you!"

"But you came anyway even though there could have been an axe-wielding maniac in my room?"

Liam shrugged. "Yeah, I supposed I did."

"Aw!" I cried and tackled him.

"But if anyone was going to be the axe-weilding maniac in your room, Harry, it'd be you." "Rude," I said, sitting on his stomach. "Off," he ordered. I stayed sitting on him. That's right- Harry Styles ain't nobody's slave.

"I have to talk to you," I said falling backwards onto my bed. He sat next to me.

"You never talk to me," Liam said suspiciously.

"Yes I do! God, you make it sound like I freeze you out!"

"I never said that."

"You implied it," I insisted.