Your Reason to Be

Louis' POV

The tea dribbles into my mouth and I immediately cringe at the taste and spit it back out, despising the lukewarm heat. I set the cup back down on the bedside table next to me. Laying my head back onto the padding of the bed head, my eyelids droop down - I'm emotionally drained instead of physically tired.

"No!" I hear a girl's familiar gasp from downstairs followed by a fit of ascending giggles. I smile despite of the irony taking place right this moment. Through my closed eyes I imagine Harry sitting comfortably, back against couch, with Christine's legs draped over his lap as he rubs her ankles. It has been a couple of days since we've met her. They make a pleasant duo and it shouldn't have surprised me once her and Hazz fit together like puzzle pieces even though I was the one whose insides were morphing into liquid as soon as I laid my eyes on her and I was the one who invited her out first. 

My hand falls to my side hitting something hard. Right away, I let myself see again and I grip the device hoping for some sort of miracle. Christine is extremely lovely but she was a distraction from the reality I'm unfortunately facing. It makes me feel terrible to have used such a nice girl but there's no other way in saying it, other than the fact that I'm desperate. 

I glance around my bedroom, my patience ready to meet its end. On the floor is a large red suitcase garments spilling out of it, mingling with Harry's laundry. I absentmindedly roll my eyes disapproving his style of cleanliness, or lack thereof. Though I am being a hypocrite since I can't tidy my own mess to save my life. The suitcase is for tomorrow morning - when the boys and I leave to shoot our music video for the next single. I don't know why the management believes its necessary to scope places in another country when there are plenty of amazing sets we can shoot the video in, here in London. 

The familiar vibration sends tingles up the hand that's holding the phone. "Louis mate," his voice manages to rile me up and soothe me at the same time. 

"Niall," I sigh. "What's going on?"

It's a few seconds before he replies. "She's back." I'm sure he doesn't mean to say that dreading sentence with such an intimidating tone. "And it's over."

I frown. "Over?" My mind reels over frantically searching for multiple outcomes from this very word. A million what ifs clash against each other, like cymbals making contact fighting for domination. 

"Between us. It's over. There's no more us for me and Chey." His voice remains monotonous throughout that whole sentence which may send the wrong signals to people who don't know him. Niall, in a serious situation, when he uses a calm tone, it means he isn't happy, attempting to coat all those emotions with a still composure. 

Several phases of feelings course through my veins forcing me to forget that Niall is on the phone with me for a moment. I sense sadness, disappointment, envy but most of all, guilt. The guilt has been gnawing its way from my brain down towards the pit of my stomach even since he notified me of the recent break up. There is no other way around it - admitting to myself that I'm partly relieved they aren't together anymore and that, drives the guilt further into my mind. "I'm sorry, Nialler," I murmur finally able to answer him. 

A deep sigh comes from his end and I'm glad he's finally showing emotion. I know him so well, I know how he acts when he's dramatically upset hut it still bothers me when he looks absolutely collected. "I know you're a tad happy Lou."

"How'd it happen?" I ask pretending not to have heard his previous comment, hoping I hadn't made it too obvious. Whilst he explains the events that occurred leading to this current conversation, I lift the cup of tea before being reminded of its awful state and I set it down again. 

He begins, "We were going on for a walk and I couldn't help it - I brought you up into the conversation and she seemed so bothered by it all. I knew she wasn't paying much attention to me so I talked about us. She was surprised.." he trails off most probably searching for the correct words to use for the punchline. "Y'know how I don't kiss her?"

"No-" I begin only to be cut off by his Irish mouth. 

"I do but never on the lips. So I did and...and..." I nod absentmindedly encouraging him to go forth, forgetting that we're on the phone. "..and it didn't feel right. It felt like I was betraying you, mate. And she said it didn't feel eight either. I dunno why though."

Scratching the back of neck as a habit, I attempt to think of any reasons why she would have said that. Though nothing comes to mind and if I am to say what I think - I'd only be the selfish one in this slight love triangle I have formed between Niall, Chennaya and I. 

"Loueh!" Harry's loud scream travels up the carpeted stairs and I wince, loathing the idea of cutting this talk with Niall short. 

Throwing my head up towards the ceiling, I yell, "I'm coming!" I lift the warm blanket off my legs and I stretch out my tense limbs ready to say goodbye. "Okay Niall. I'll talk to you later, okay?"

Before making my way down the staircase, I carelessly throw my phone on the mattress. The conversation is on infinite replay inside my head and I swear that Niall's voice sounds all too real. I don't expect what Harry is screaming for me to get to him for is more important than what Niall and I were deeply in discussion about. 

I reach the bottom floor, starting to feel my impatience taking over me. Sending a quick smile towards Christine I race towards Harry, whose voice is echoing from the back door. Whoever is outside seems to want me so desperately, leaving me no time to prepare. 

"Hurry up Tomlinson," he exclaims for nth time getting to my nerves once more. This time I don't bother to reply and instead tap his shoulder which causes him to face me. 

I say, "You asked for me?"

His lips noticeably shut forming a pink tight line then he steps from the doorframe allowing me to peek at my ridiculously important visitor. Once my gaze meets hers it isn't difficult to know how. "Chennaya?"

Harry places a firm grip upon my shoulder, whispering, "Good luck mate." My eyes remain on her figure as I nod in reply. He then shoves me out into the open and the door clicks shut leaving me with the girl my mind has been so dwindled about. 

Chennaya's perched on the top railing of the small terrace her lips curved up in a meek smile. Her right hand taps the spot beside her, motioning for me to take a seat. I easily oblige having no arguments about it. I stand next to her though, not comfortable enough to side down. I tear my stare from Chey, looking at the stretch of land in front of me - neither one of us having the courage to begin. "I'm so-"

"Lou-"

We both snicker and I'm glad we set off on a good start. Her laughs fade away as a grimace replaces her toothy grin. "Lou, I should be the one who's sorry." I open my mouth to say otherwise but she cuts me off with a wave of her hand. "I ran from you and ignored you instead of facing the problem."

I frown but I can't complain when she refers to me as a problem because I really am. "No, no," she exclaims pinching the bridge of her nose. "Not that way Lou, no, you're never a problem."

I fake a smile at her failed attempt to cheer me up. I honestly believe I'm the most affected in this situation, as selfish as that sounds. 

"You're absolutely brilliant." My ears perk up at the sudden compliment. "Besides I should be thankful and honored really. I mean, you're Louis William Tomlinson for goodness sake."

Lightly slapping her knee, I decide to keep my hand there as this used to calm her down. She stares at it then, much to my surprise, slips her fingers through mine. "I-I Chey, you don't have to say anything."

She shakes her head. "I've made up my mind Lou and I can't always have it this way. I dont want it to be this way."

The fresh teats prick the back of my eyes and I immediately begin mentally chanting I'm a man, I'm a man, be a man Louis, don't cry. I'm a man. I open my lips to add words to what I'm feeling but nothing comes out. 

"God I feel like such a bloody bitch for doing this."

I widen my eyes not used to her freely cussing but I guess she's been hiding these emotions for so long. What she does next makes my heart twitch. Nobody has prepared me for this.