1D Oneshots

I know there's heaps of these floating around but I wanted to have a place to put all the one-shots and ideas I'm not using elsewhere. I will occasionally be taking submissions- 4 or 5 at a time- so keep checking this description to see if they're open or closed. SUBMISSIONS ARE CLOSED! Sorry guys, I have a few on the backburner & life will be busy the next couple weeks, I just won't have time.

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7. Hurt - Louis

Hurt

(Louis)

I jumped as I heard a thud from the sofa; Louis was awake, judging by the muffled curses and groans. I felt no pity for him whatsoever. After the amount of alcohol he’d ingested, I was simply impressed he was awake at all. I heard him thumping around and absently flipped an egg in the frypan, nibbling at the plate of bacon I’d had sitting in the warmer for ten minutes. It never took Louis long to wake up when food was on offer.

“Morning!” I chirped as I heard his feet hit the tiles, shuffling his way in. A chair scraped across the floor- I winced at the sharp shriek, struggling not to snicker at the pain he was no doubt in- and I heard him fall into it. I’d yet to turn around… I wasn’t the most confident of chefs, and I feared if I took my eyes off the breakfast I’d ruin it. Letting Louis run around hung-over and hungry was not a good idea.

There was a small grunt from behind me and I pushed the eggs out onto the plate next to the bacon, turning with it in my hands to give him his food. Louis had folded his arms on the table, burying his face in the fold, and I gently ran my hand through his messy brown hair. He shifted and I swore I heard him purr slightly, finally raising his head to examine the food.

“Oh my God!” I cried, hands flying to my face in shock. He jumped and gave me a filthy look as I turned quickly for the sink, wetting some paper towel before darting around the table.

“What? Ashley- what?” he snapped, waving away my hands as I tried to get close. He must’ve hit his head when he rolled off the sofa… there was a cut just above his left eyebrow and it was bleeding. It looked bad but I’d had enough first-aid experience to know looks could be deceiving. Louis felt the blood dripping down his cheek and dabbed at the wetness with his fingers, drawing them away with a look of horror crossing his face. “Ash-“

“It’s okay,” I murmured soothingly, finally getting close enough to press the towel against his poor head. “Hold this, okay? I’ll get the kit,” I stroked his cheek gently and he gave me a sheepish little smile, breakfast forgotten, as I headed for the bathroom and the first-aid kit. The moment I left the room I heard him swear rather impressively, but didn’t stop to overhear the rest of his monologue.

Returning to the kitchen, I helped Louis to his feet and guided him to the living room, figuring he’d be more comfortable in an arm chair than a wooden-backed kitchen one with food an arm’s length away. He looked faintly green and woozy as I sat him down; I hoped it was the hang-over and not anything more serious. “Sorry, Ashley,” he whispered as I removed the wet towel and gave him a fresh one.

“It’s okay,” I replied, flashing him a quick smile as I readied a bandage and a disinfectant swab. The smell reached Louis and he groaned softly as I perched on the arm of the chair and reached for his head. “Sit still, Louis, for goodness sake,” I snapped, holding his chin as I tried to dab at his head, the shallow cut still bleeding a little as head wounds were prone to do. I grimaced uncomfortably and rolled my shoulders before getting back to work, ignoring his squirming and foul muttered curses. In fact, the more he swore the wider I smiled, finding it all too endearing to be truly upsetting. He wasn’t cursing at me, perse, more the fact that he had a killer headache and he hadn’t even had breakfast and why wasn’t I done yet- all of these phrases pockmarked with words starting with ‘F’. I snickered when a particularly filthy word left his lips; he hissed as I swiped disinfectant over a scratch and made it sting, and shook his face gently, grinning widely at the contrite glare. “You’re adorable when you’re angry.”

I thought he was going to toss me off his lap, as I was practically straddling him now to both keep him there and have better access, but he just sat back in the chair with a resigned sigh. “Shut up,” he muttered, but he smiled when I bandaged him up and bowed his head to kiss the plaster, like a mother would for a child. He huffed in indignation but nonetheless allowed it; as I leaned back to move to my own seat, he caught her wrist and held it gently. “Ashley… stay…”

I swallowed, my eyes closing a little as I cursed my heart for starting to race- he could feel my pulse, I could feel him apply the necessary pressure- as I nodded. My throat was dry and I met his gaze, a wry little smile taking over as my defences kicked in and shoved away any inappropriate thoughts. Just friends, I reminded myself, no matter how much I might want more. “Can I go now?” I asked, nodding to his hand still on my wrist, and my throat constricted even further as I met his gaze, his eyes darker than I’d ever seen them before.

“No.”

Slowly, his free hand cupped the side of my neck and his thumb stroked over the curve of my jaw, my eyes flying open wide at the brazen touch. Never had I thought that it would be Louis to make the first move; we’d been close all our lives, but this was a new dynamic and I was all for it. Louis leaned forward, stretching up as he pulled me down; our foreheads met and I couldn’t decide whether I wanted to laugh, cry, kiss him or run as fast as I could. “L- Louis,” I stammered breathlessly, my chest too tight and my throat too dry.

“Ashley,” he replied evenly, nowhere near as effected as I was. It almost made me hate him, how he could bring me to the edge of incoherence with barely a touch and I’d be unable to tell if he meant it. But then again… there wasn’t a single thing I could think of that would make me hate him. His nose nudged mine aside, and my lips fell open in a gasp of surprise as the hand on my neck constricted just a little, bringing me closer… closer…

The front door slammed and I jumped, wrenching myself away and seeming to fly across the room to stand against the wall, my fingers digging into the wood as my racing heart settled into a somewhat normal rhythm and I struggled to breathe normally. Louis glared at the door and Harry, the poor man, nearly fainted at the ferocity in his best mate’s gaze.

“I’ve interrupted something,” Harry said frankly. I shook my head and swallowed heavily, chasing away the fog in my mind and coming back to reality

“No,” I said.

“Yes,” Louis snarled at the same time, and Harry looked between the two of us as a sudden realisation sank into his eyes and his gaze softened on my rattled figure, still holding myself up against the doorframe. I didn’t trust my knees. Or my heart. And why wouldn’t my lungs draw enough air to be satisfying?

“I’ll… just…” Harry pointed at the door and Louis nodded firmly.

I watched them have a silent exchange; Harry didn’t even see the bandage, though the tension in the room was thick enough to distract a shark from the scent of blood. Harry gave me a wink- sly little…- as he disappeared through the door. I gazed after him until I felt a hand clasp mine, a warm body against my back as Louis’s arm encircled my waist.

“So,” he murmured, resting his chin on my shoulder. I wanted to tell him to sit down… but I didn’t think I could talk and be even half way coherent. “Where were we, Ashley?”

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