Chapter 10 : Addictive

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No matter how hard I struggle to bite my tongue and will away the words that fret to leave my mouth, I still can't fight the way they pile up in my head, or the way they torture me.

They spill out, in the end. And the way your eyes glow once they do, I don't think I mind anymore.

Maybe I am one of the lucky ones, despite what I hoped.

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Liam can't remember the time that one of Louis' ideas, put into motion, led to something good happening in the end, but that's probably because it almost never happens.

That's why, tonight, Liam is just waiting for that tiny string of luck to break and hell to break loose around them.

They're in another nameless club where Louis' dragged them, saying that it's been too damn long since they hung out like this and that they were all in terrible need of getting drunk. Liam thinks he used that same phrase every weekend since they were barely sixteen. But well, no one can say no to Louis, because the consequences are worse than being hungover or getting alcohol poisoning.

Crowded against the bar, Liam can only see an outline of Louis and Harry and he blames it on the lights, the vibrating crowd blocking his view. But he knows it's them, knows their body language too well for his own liking. He knows that they're crowded close, moving against the other bodies surrounding them, hips moving in unison, shamelessly.

Liam shakes his head to will away the picture in his head. He takes another sip of his beer, welcoming the sour taste. It's his fifth, no, seventh. Whatever, he lost count a while ago, right somewhere between the third shot and Zayn's throat muscles contracting as he swallowed as well. All while his eyes were locked with Liam's.

Oh, wait. They barely left Liam's, ever since they came in here.

It's like something's different tonight and Liam can't wrap his mind around it. But he blames that on the alcohol. Or the self preservation, he's not sure.

The only thing he does know, the only thing that he feels is that the room temperature is wrong, unwelcoming on his skin. There's cold sweat forming at the nape of his neck and he's barely moved from the bar, choosing to stay away as far as he can. The bass beats along with his heart, high in his throat. He feels uncomfortable and choked on the air. Too much alcohol running through his body, the strong scent of cigarette smoke hanging in the air. Too much people singing along to whatever comes out of the speakers. He can't even hear what he's thinking.

And even the amount of alcohol in his system doesn't help the way he slightly trembles whenever he looks Zayn's way.

He's dancing with some guy. The man is much older than him, shoulders wider and he stands a few inches taller. He's got his hand on Zayn's hips, pulling their bodies flush together as they grind together. There's sweat forming on his forehead and Liam can see him gasp every time that Zayn moves his hips with more confidence. It's driving him insane, just like Liam.

There's that pang of jealousy deep in his chest, because he wants, craves that himself.

"You okay buddy?" Niall says and claps him on the back.

If it weren't for Niall, Liam thinks he'd go insane. He's been hanging around him all night, close to let him know that he's still alive. Reminding him to breathe every time his breath hitches.

Liam only nods in response, not able to look away from Zayn and the guy. He can't.

He hears Niall sigh loudly, over the loud music, but he doesn't react.

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