(butterfliess)
Liam's POV
Oddly enough, I remembered everything that happened last night. Getting drunk, laughing about absolutely nothing, playing gay chicken, buying eachother drinks, almost kissing Niall... Everything. Except what was funny. I never could put my finger on what we were laughing about so much. We were probably hallucinating rainbow dancing flamingos from all the alcohol.
Niall muttered something and his eyes fluttered open. By his hand flying upward to clutch his forehead as he sat upright, I expected he didn't feel so well.
"Headache?" I asked, moving towards him. My stomach growled angrily; the only thing I had in the past three days was alcohol. And the only alcohol I had was last night, which basically meant I went without having nothing - even liquids - for around two days or so. I was starving, and my throat was dry as hell.
He nodded after a few moments, ripping the blankets off and swinging his feet over the edge of the bed. "Yeah, it's bad too."
That reminded me of something. Before he passed out at work, he had a headache... And then he went to the hospital and got amnesia and then knew nothing then remembered and then a bunch of other things happened and then we went clubbing and Zayn was okay with us being friends and Harry didn't take it well and Niall, Zayn, Louis and I got drunk and played gay chicken and...
Liam, you're overreacting. I told myself. He probably has a headache because of all that alcohol... Right?
"Do you want some Tylenol? I'm going out for some food anyways."
"Food? And you didn't invite me?"
"You weren't awake."
"That's no excuse!" He squealed, jumping out of the bed and hurriedly fixing his hair in the mirror. We'd both fallen asleep with all our clothes on, too tired to change. I laughed as he, despite having a bad headache, scrambled around just for food. But, that's something to expect. Niall loves food more than life itself.
---
We hopped into the car and drove towards a fairly decent looking diner. We, both deathly hungry, didn't bother to look at the name of the diner, we just went inside and ordered. It was only around two PM, so the waitresses and waiters looked at us funny for ordering such large meals.
We hadn't talked the whole way to the diner except for ordering food and drinks, and Niall finally broke the silence.
"So, Liam, could you tell me what happened last night? I don't really remember. I have a faint idea, but all I really remember is drinking and playing some sort of game."
I froze with perfect posture. Tell him, Liam, said one part of my mind. Don't tell him, Liam, said the other. Within a few moments, the thoughts seemingly merged together.
Tell him, Liam. But don't tell him that you were upset after you didn't get to kiss him.
It was, to be honest, completely true. I put on a fake smile after Zayn drunkenly pulled us away from eachother, but I was cursing his name in my mind. I was upset. Very upset. I've always wondered how soft Niall's lips are...
Well, if they were as soft as his hair... Then any girls that get to kiss him are luckier than someone winning a lottery of over five million. Maybe more than that. One thing I know is that his hair is damn soft.
"Um, well, Zayn and Lou had the amazing," I said in a mildly sarcastic tone. "idea of playing gay chicken; you know how to play that, right?"
He nodded.
"When we were playing, you vs me, we came really close to kissing but then we got pulled away because we had to leave. That's basically it." I shrugged.
His eyes softened, like he was also a little upset by the fact that we didn't get to kiss.
Was he upset? Why would he be upset? Wait, why am I upset again? You don't love him, do you, Liam? No, of course not... You can't love your best friend...
It just doesn't work like that...
