A/N: NEARLY 8.8K READS YOU GUYS ARE AMAZING ILY
-- Louis' POV --
When I wake in the morning, I'm all alone in my massive bed. I can faintly hear sounds of sizzling bacon, and Caycia humming. I sit up in bed, and debate whether or not to actually put on pants, but eventually decide not to.
In just a pair a boxers, with my hair a dishevelled mess from my sleep, I make my way into the kitchen. Caycia's back is turned to me. She stands there, wearing my t-shirt, which barely covers her rear. If I knew I could, I'd bend her over the countertop right here, right now. But things were confusing between us right now, and I didn't want to fuck it up by fucking her - no matter how badly I wanted to.
I admire her cooking while wearing my clothing for a few moments - the way her hair has been thrown up into some messy up-do, the way she nibbles on a piece of bacon as she hums. I listen to her humming, trying to decipher the song. It doesn't take me long, and my mouth dries instantly. She's humming her favourite song - our song.
As if I've been shot, my hand instantly reaches for the words inked into my lower abdomen. Did she see the tattoo? Is that why she's humming the song now? What'd she think of it? Did she realize it was for her? Well of course she did, she's not an idiot. What if she hated it? What if she thought it was creepy? Maybe she didn't see it this morning? I mean, it was fairly dark last night, so there's no way she saw it-
"Good morning," she says softly, interrupting my mini freak-out.
My mouth is still dry, and my hand still rests on my lower abdomen. When her eyes dart to my hand, I stiffen, "uh, good morning. How'd you sleep?" I try my best to distract her for a moment.
She turns from me and back to the sizzling bacon. I take the opportunity to jog to the island and sit down - the large wooden structure would cover my tattoo - just incase she hasn't seen it yet. "Really good actually," she turns and smiles at me.
"Good, I'm glad." I answer. She continues cooking the bacon and I sit there for a moment. "Would you like some help?"
"Uh, sure. You could toast the bread? I mean, if you'd like," she places a loaf of bread down on the countertop between us. I grab the loaf and stand up. Caycia's eyes instantly dart to the inked lettering, and without realizing what I'm doing, my whole body turns away from her. She ignores the gesture and goes back to cooking.
I mentally smack myself and saunter over to the toaster, placing four slices in and opening the fridge to grab the small container of margarine.
"Why didn't you tell me?" She suddenly asks.
"The tattoo," she uses the fork in her hand to point to it, "why didn't you tell me about it?"
I swallow, and I imagine she can hear it because it's so loud in my ears, but I'm sure that's not the case. I shrug my shoulders, "I dunno."
She shifts her weight to one leg, popping out her hip and placing her hand on it, "oh c'mon don't give me that bullshit Lou."
I try my best to ignore the way my heart is racing in my chest at the way she says 'Lou,' but it's really damn difficult considering I haven't heard her say that for what feels like forever. I sigh, "I was scared." I confess.
"About what?" She's nibbling on another piece of bacon.
"Your reaction, I guess." The toast pops up, startling me. I begin buttering the pieces and putting them on plates for the two of us. "I thought you wouldn't like it, or you'd think it was weird or some shit. I guess after the way I treated you, I'd thought that you figured I didn't love you anymore, if that makes any sense."
She doesn't say anything for a few moments. I can't help but feel like maybe I said the wrong thing but then she speaks up, "I love it actually. I wish you would've shown it to me earlier."
I'm afraid that at any moment my heart is going to leap out of my throat. Caycia takes a step towards me and begins running her left hand over the lettering. My heart races impossibly faster.
"It really means a lot that you did this," she says to me.
I swear at any moment I'll pass out. Being this close to her - getting along this well - it's almost as if we've been together and living with one another for the past few years. We'd never even talked about living together, and here we were, making each other breakfast, sleeping in the same bed, sharing clothes... this felt so right.
"Well..." I reach forward and lift up the hem of my shirt, exposing her lace panties, and her lower stomach. I begin running my fingers over her daisy tattoo, "this really means a lot to me." I manage to say, although my mouth has gone dry at the sight of her panties and the close proximity of her.
For a moment it's really quiet between the two of us and then suddenly the bacon snaps and she quickly steps away from me. I carry the plates to the island, and sit down.
"It's still my favourite song y'know," she says.
"I know," is all I can muster.
* * *
Breakfast was fairly silent. The two of us quickly ate our food, and sat beside one another, talking about small things - the weather's nice, and shit like that. It wasn't that it was boring, it was nice being able to share comfortable small talk with someone you love.
Eventually when breakfast was done, we cleaned up the plates and both headed to our bedrooms to change into clothes acceptable for public. She wore the clothes she did yesterday, considering she didn't have anything else. I changed into skinny jeans and another v-neck t-shirt - mostly because I sensed she loved the v-necks.
When we were driving, I suddenly sensed her nervousness. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah," she murmurs out.
We were heading to Zayn's. It was time to gather her things from his apartment - time to box up her things and take them to my place. I knew she was nervous, and scared. I know she didn't want to have an awkward run in between Zayn, her, and myself.
"Is he going to be there?" I ask her.
For the first time since we got in the car, she looks at me, "no, he's going out with his cousins today. Zayn bought them tickets to some basketball game, so that should give us a few hours to collect my things." There's worry written all over her face. I'm honestly surprised she hasn't begun crying at this point.
"It'll be okay," I try my best to comfort her, but I know it's of no use. She has become adjusted to living with Zayn. They've lived together for several months, and now everything was about to change, and it'll be difficult for her. Everything she once saw as comfortable - as her daily life - will now be replaced with me. I mean, I was happy about it, but I also felt sorry for her, and the situation. I felt awful that this was the reason that we'd be thrown together again.
"I know, it's just hard," she practically whispers.
"It'll get easier love." I say to her and she simply nods her head and turns to look out the window again. I know that as hard as I try, she still loves Zayn. She is still going to fight for their relationship, as hard as that's going to be for me to accept. But I'm ready to do that if it means that eventually it may lead her to me.
The rest of the short ride to Zayn's house is quiet. Caycia simply stares out the window, the music lightly plays on the radio, and I don't bother with trying to comfort her any more because I know it's of no use. I'm just hoping and praying that Zayn doesn't arrive home earlier than expected - I'd really rather not have to explain to him that she's now living with me. I really don't even know how she'll tell people that she's living with me now, but I guess we'll jump that hurdle when it comes.
I know that Harry's suspicious of us, and now he'll be extra suspicious because she's living with me, but I will talk to him. I will convince him to stay quiet - tell him that I will tell Zayn, I just think it's better he hear it from Caycia and I, rather than Harry. Harry's a really understanding guy, and I have faith that he'll keep quiet because he doesn't want anyone to get hurt.
When I finally pull into Zayn's driveway I'm relieved to see that Zayn's car isn't here. He must still be out with his family. Let's hope he's gone for a long time.
Caycia walks to the front of the house and unlocks the door with the key I reckon Zayn had given her. When she steps into the house, her shoulders immediately sink and she sighs heavily. When I step inside I can't help but compare just how similar our homes are. Zayn and I are similar in so many aspects - the decor in our homes really shows just how similar.
Caycia steps further into the home and looks around, "well I guess we can start in the bedroom, most of my things would be in there."
"Okay," is all I say and we begin walking to the back end of the house. We turn and walk down the hall and she opens the bedroom door.
The room is immaculate. The bed is neatly made, clothes are hung up neatly in the closet, there's not a speck of dirt anywhere. I'm surprised - I guess I thought Zayn would be a mess, just like Caycia's been. But as we look around the room, it's apparent that he seems to be doing just fine.
Caycia's eyes go wide as she looks around and takes in her surroundings. I don't know how she's keeping it together so well, if it were me I'd probably be angry, or crying... I'd be freaking out. She doesn't say anything, instead she walks to the closet and grabs a bunch of reusable bags she has stored away in a few boxes - boxes I reckon she hasn't thrown out since she moved in.
"Is there anything you'd like me to help with?" I ask her.
"Um, maybe you can pack up my clothes?" I nod my head, and she hands me one of the reusable bags. "You don't have to bother folding them up, it really doesn't matter."
"Okay," is all I say. I make my way to the closest and begin sifting through the clothes, looking for anything that's relatively girly. I grab a few t-shirts and fold them up nicely. I know she told me not to bother, but I don't want her to have to re-wash and iron all of these clothes, she's already going through enough. I glance over at her, and she's already packed away all of her purses and she's putting her makeup into one of the bags. Her hands are moving furiously.
I continue neatly folding her clothes into the bags, and eventually she's moved on to packing away other various things around the room. When I'm done with her clothes, I stand there for a moment, checking over the closet once more. "You might want to come check that I've grabbed everything. What would you like me to pack away next?"
"Uh, yeah okay. I will. Um, you could do socks and underwear? It's that drawer there," Caycia points to a small drawer.
"Okay," I murmur out. I walk over to the drawer and nearly choke on my own spit. The drawer is half filled with socks, but the other half is filled with frilly, lacy underwear. It's almost as if she did this on purpose, but I really don't think she has. I try to ignore the blood flowing to other areas of my body as I imagine her in these sexy little pieces. I simply pack them away, and try not to stare too long.
Eventually she's done running around the room like a chicken with its head cut off. She checks out the closet to make sure I've grabbed everything and then she opens the drawer beside me. Caycia grabs another bag and begins packing away bras and other various things she has stored away in the wooden dresser. We both finish packing at the same time and she double checks the room.
"I think I've got everything," she says. "There's just a few more things around the house."
"Okay, I will take these packed bags and boxes out to the car," I say to her.
She smiles and takes a step forward, "thank you," she says as she wraps her arms around my waist. "Thank you for being here for me."
"It's no problem, really." I whisper into her hair. After a few seconds she steps away from me and begins collecting things in other rooms. I grab one of the larger boxes and take it out to the car, placing it in the back. I continue walking back and forth - in and out of the house - taking boxes and bags to the car. Every time I walk back into the house Caycia is somewhere else. She's constantly placing newly filled bags and boxes by the front door.
Eventually I haul the last bag into the car. As I'm walking through the front door of the house, I can hear Caycia's voice. It's only a whisper, but somehow my ears manage to pick it up, 'oh, my god," is all she says. I look around the house, and sooner or later I spot her sitting in front of Zayn's massive iMac.
"Is everything okay?" I ask her. I take a few steps forward and stop behind her. I place my hand on the back of her chair backing and lean over her shoulder to look at what she's staring at on the computer screen.
"No, no, no! Nothing's okay Louis! Zayn knows! He knows!" She's screaming at me.
"What are you talking about?"
"Just listen," Caycia says as she presses replay on an audio file which has been saved as 'Important' on the computer. My own voice immediately fills my ears.
You're right, although I wish I could finish what we started."
"Me too," Caycia says.
"I'm just gonna sneak out the back door... bye." Footsteps can be heard.
"Wait... I - you -" Caycia stutters.
"What?" I said to her.
"You have a huge hickey on your neck, I guess I was sucking harder than I thought I was." Caycia mumbles out.
"It's fine, don't worry about it, it was hot." My voice rings through my ears.
The audio file ends as Zayn obviously clicks the 'end record' button. The blood has completely drained from my face. This is a recording from the night when Caycia and I had cheated together. And Zayn was the one who'd recorded it. He knew about us, and here I was, acting like an idiot thinking he didn't know. Zayn was extremely smart, and I was an idiot for thinking he's so oblivious.
"He - he knows about us?" The words struggled to fall from my lips.
Caycia couldn't speak. She wasn't crying. She was just staring at the computer, nodding her head up and down.
Suddenly a though occurs to me, "wait." I hold a finger up. Caycia turns to me, waiting for me to speak. I kneel down so I'm eye level with her. "He got in a car accident, right?"
She nods her head, not catching on.
"And he suffered some memory impairment, right?"
She just nods her head.
"So maybe he doesn't remember Cayc! What if the accident blocked his memory?" I'm gripping on to her shoulders, trying to shake her back from whatever alternate universe she's stuck in.
"No, no," she says to me. "That's not possible. People who do bad shit like us don't get off that lucky, Louis." She's shaking her head furiously.
"Just - just have some hope Caycia! Don't you think he would've confronted us about it already? You know what Zayn's like, he wouldn't have waited the last several weeks to confront us. Besides, him and Harry are so close! Harry would know by now, not just have suspicions!" I'm still gripping her shoulders.
"Okay, I see what you're saying. It sort of makes sense, but we can't pretend like there's not a small chance that he does remember." She's back from whatever alternate universe she was stuck in.
"I know," is all I say to her. For a few minutes it's silent between us as we think about that evening and just how drastically things have changed since then.
"So if he may have forgotten, do you think he knows that he has it saved to his computer?" She asks me.
"I don't know, probably not. There's no guarantee," I reply.
"So you're saying that he wouldn't miss this if it just happened to be deleted?"
I cock my head at her because this seems cunning and deceiving, really cunning and deceiving.
"I don't mean it like that. I mean -" she rubs her hands nervously on her pants, "we're already split up, he's not into me anymore... telling him this is somewhat pointless, it just creates more hurt in everyone's lives."
I see her point, but I'm still apprehensive, "I don't know..."
"Just think about it, this could really hurt your relationship - the band's relationship."
"I see what you're saying, it just seems really wrong." I answer.
"I know, I know," she rubs her temples, "it's fucked up. It's just, telling him about us would hurt you, me, Zayn, and it would create tensions between Harry and us, which would make things difficult between Penny and I, and Liam and Niall would probably be surprised and shocked and upset with us... if we told Zayn, it creates a lot of unnecessary drama..." She trails off.
I see exactly what she's saying and as I kneel in front of her I can't seem to find a reason to not delete the file. The pain in her eyes is enough to make me feel like I've broken every bone in my body, repeatedly. I think it over, and I just really can't find a reason. "Okay," I mumble out.
She leans forward and grabs either side of my face. She surprises me by leaning forward slowly and lightly placing her lips on mine, "thank you." She pulls away and twists in the chair so she's facing the computer. Without hesitation she pushes the delete button, and empties the recycling bin, hopefully deleting the file forever.
I hope and pray that this will be the end of our troubles and the beginning of our eternity.
But that's just it... there's two of us and this is a three person love triangle. There was absolutely no guarantee that Caycia and I'd end up together.
But I sure as hell am not going down without a fight.
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