You Sunshine, You Temptress (l.s)

Everything I'll Ever Need

BEFORE THIS CHAPTER STARTS: There are mentions of s*xual abuse against a child. I will put the trigger warning sign *** before the scene, but please just read with caution

Also, this chapter is VERY VERY LONG, so you may not read it all in one sitting. 

Louis

When I open my eyes Friday night, it's nearly dark outside. I look over and eye the sleeping body next to me. I lie there in confusion for a moment, trying to piece together why the fuck I'm here. When the memory rings loud and clear in my head, I sit up, the sheets falling to my waist as I throw my legs over the edge of the mattress and run a hand through my tousled hair.

"The fuck are you doing?" Zayn mumbles, his Bradford accent thick and groggy from sleep.

"Where the hell are my jeans?" Zayn's room has always been a complete mess. Clothes and shows are sprawled all over the floor, and every now and again you might catch yourself tripping over a spray-paint can. I look through the nearest clothes pile in search of my jeans that were basically ripped off of me about an hour ago.

"How am I supposed to know? We were in quite the rush" A smirk plays on his lips as he sits up in bed and watches me search through the mess for my clothes.

"Be a good little housewife and go make me a sandwich" I joke as I flip him off.

He flips me the same finger and pulls on some random pair of joggers. His back muscles flex as he stretches his arms above his head before leaving the room and disappearing into the kitchen. 

After a few more minutes of looking for my jeans, I finally spot them in the corner by all of his art supplies. I quickly slide them on and throw on some random shirt before exiting the room and joining Zayn.

I'm greeted in the kitchen by a half-asleep Zayn, perched on the counter and bringing a lighter to the joint in between his lips.

"All you do is smoke, drink, and fuck," I say through an eye-roll and begin ransacking his fridge for something to eat.

"That's my brand, what else am I to do?" He says sarcastically in between puffs.

"How do you live alone and have absolutely no food? What do you eat?" I search through the cupboards, the fridge, and the pantry. Unless I want to eat cake mix with a side of room temperature beer, I'll just have to go hungry.

"I send my mum a list and once a month she brings me groceries. Usually goes to shit though because I'll eat everything within the first few days" I've always been jealous that Zayn gets to live by himself at 17. He can come and go as he pleases and doesn't have to answer to anybody. No rules, no siblings screaming in his ear all fucking day, just complete freedom.

Milky smoke falls from his lips as he offers me the blazing joint. I don't hesitate to take it from his fingers and take a long drag, relishing in the feeling of smoke clouding my lungs

"So you have no food except boxed cake mix?" He nods "Why?" I question as I exhale and thick clouds spill from my mouth.

"I bought it last night for Niall. He was telling me that he likes those little cinnamon sugar cakes. Thought it'd be something we could do together or some shit, I don't know" He stares at the kitchen floor as a small grin plays on his lips, but he shrugs it off and takes another hit from the joint.

"Baking cakes?" I practically laugh, causing him to look over to me "Seriously? You guys have made out like twice and all of a sudden, you're playing housewife?"

"Well if I didn't know any better Louis, I'd say you're jealous" I nearly choke on smoke, but all he does is laugh.

"Don't flatter yourself mate, I just think it's strange that you're suddenly all whipped over some straight kid" Me and Zayn know what we are, and what we are not. There has never been any feelings involved in our situation, and both sides know that. If I need a quick fuck, or vice versa, we just go to each other. Nothing more, nothing less.