Your Reason to Be

Chennaya's POV

The throbbing in my head doesn't cease as I kill the phone's blaring alarm. "Ugh," I moan as I massage my temples in hope that the headache may fade away soon.

Louis promised that he won't let me drink down anymore than three drinks. If he did do that, then those drinks must've been extremely strong to make my mind remain fuzzy for a while. I've never had a hangover this bad because I'm not a fan of getting drunk.

I finally manage to stand up and get off the bed and almost slip. Thank goodness, there's a drawer right beside the bed so I could hold on and Lou didn't follow my advice when I told him to remove it.

As I let the door swing wide open, a flash of blonde passes by. "Niall?"

"Morning sweetheart." He smiles at me but then hurriedly shifts his attention back to his previous action.

I step out of the room to find the boys frantically dancing around the house looking awfully concentrated. "What's up?"

"Oh, just cleaning," Harry replies while putting back a box full of objects onto a shelf. I raise an eyebrow. Cleaning? He flashes me a charming grin and I blush.

Before anything else, I don't fancy Harry. If I had to have a crush on anybody in this house it would little Irish boy. He's an absolute sweetheart and I get high off his addictive laugh.

"Where's Lou?"

He sighs. "In the kitchen. Dunno what he's up to."

"Aww, whatever happened to your close friendship. I don't want to see Larry splitting up," I tease.

"Don't worry. It's just a phase." With a final wink, he scurries off into another room and I go in search for my silly friend.

I walk through the kitchen entrance and strut up to the dinner table giving him a smile. "Hey, what's going on with the boys?"

"Morning to you too babe," he mutters. "I don- I'm not suppose to say this...okay they're being silly. They think you won't like them if they don't keep the house clean. I told them you aren't picky but they insisted. They're honestly so stubborn sometimes. Either that or they love to impress you."

I smirk before slipping into a seat beside him. "That's so sweet of them, you have the cutest friends. So what're you doing?" I nudge his shoulder with mine.

In front of him are multiple photo albums, colourful scrapbooks overflowing with stuck in pictures and photographs in which the people in them look like they're enjoying themselves.

Lou doesn't answer but instead picks up one of them and frowns. It's of him and his ex, Hannah, both sitting above a cake. From the words, I realise that this is a pic of their anniversary.

"Aww, I wish I had something like that," I mumble mindlessly, not even noticing I'd said it out loud.

He just smiles and shoves the the piece of material back in its place. Then picks up another one. With every photo he holds up, the jealousy in me deepens, a sudden craving for something erupts but I don't know what and I start feeling upset. Maybe I wish I was in a relationship, or I miss Jarrod or I want what's in the picture. A boy like Louis.

"Chey? Are you okay?" He gently shakes my shoulder so I gaze at his blue orbs. "You alright?"

"Yeah just...I have a killer headache. I though I told you to not allow me to drink?" I exclaim glad I found a nice topic change.



The familiar snap of the camera rings in my ears and I finally release my pose. Tara has found a way to blackmail me into squeezing into irritably tight outfits, forcing me to strike a pose then taking a picture.

"Really? I thought you enjoyed shopping!" she yells loud enough for the whole store to hear.

I attempt to wiggle out of the skirt. "I do but I don't think modelling is the job for me."

Her jaw drops to the floor. "Are you kidding me? You're gorgeous. I wish I had your legs."

"So?" I giggle. "I wish I had your face." We laugh at each other knowing full well that we both think the other is beautiful.

Before I even take a step through the automatic sliding doors, out of the shopping centre, a favourite scent of mine wafts up my nose. The smell of caffeine carries me slowly to a cafe. I tug on Tara's arm as she mumbles incoherent words about my obsession with coffee.

I enter the small space, the warmth and engaging aroma hits me like a fast gust of wind. Comfy looking seats are arranged against the corners with small tables in between, clean and dainty tables are set up elsewhere, unusual paintings are nailed onto the pale-coloured walls, a few customers lazing around in the seats and the counter is tucked up against the right corner.

"So, am I allowed to sleepover?"

"No, you're most definitely not. That's why I bought all this food and movies for us."

I laugh. "Okay, okay. No need for sarcasm."

"Please," she snorts. "That's your specialty."

I couldn't agree more.

After a few moments of waiting, our orders finally arrive. Tara laughs as my face lights up. I hold the cup in my hands like I'm embracing it, letting the heat escape and leaning back onto the soft back of the seat. We had taken the last of the most comfortable tables at this cafe without any trouble. "So good," I whisper.

"You sure are cra-" Tara begins to say but is interrupted by the sound of my ringtone.

I answer it. "Lou?"

She raises a brow, I wave her off.

"Hey there Chey, tell Tara that we love her bed!"

I recognize the other boys' laughter in the background. "What are you on about?"

"Yeah and-what!?" A pause. "I hadn't realise that Harry could look good in those skirt things? She has so many of them!"

My eyes widen in horror as the truth dawns on me. Tara's face asks me questions and I hang up on Lou. "What?" she hisses.

"The boys...they're at your house! Who knows what they might do!"