Burn Me Like the Sun

As promised, by the time I was able to extract myself from Louis’s side after sneaking back into the event hall, Niall had a sweating half-pint of Newcastle Brown waiting for me as he hunched over the bar, his face buried in his arms.

“All those beers finally getting to you?”

His head shot up when I slid into the aluminum stool next to him, snatching the glass of beer from next to his elbow and taking a quick sip.

He smiled when he saw me and pushed his drooping bangs off of his forehead. His cheeks were a bright pink like raspberry lemonade, and his forehead was dotted with almost as much sweat as my own glass of dark ale.

“Nah. Just not having much luck with the birds tonight. They either think that they’re too old for me or that I’m more trouble than I’m worth.” He smirked a little and set his elbow onto the bar, resting his chin in his hand. “Well, they are right about one thing. I’m a lot of fuckin’ beautiful trouble.”

I laughed and cheered him with my beer. “Aye.”

“So how’re you liking that Newkie?”

“The Geordie schooner reminds me of my first pint.” I laughed a little, twirling the wide glass between my fingers. I took another sip, then wiped the foam off my upper lip with the back of my hand. I smacked my lips once and sucked in air through my teeth. “I appreciate it, mate.”

“No problem, love.” He twisted again so his back was resting against the edge of the counter, and looked out at the wide crowd of people behind us. “Say, what’s up with Lou’s hair? He looks like he’s reprising his role in Grease from college.” Niall nodded over to Louis, whose hair mimicked something of a cinnamon roll with the way I’d left it. He was talking with a short, older man, whose dark hair was slicked back in a professional pomp, dressed in what looked like a two thousand quid suit. “I saw the way he was pawing at you, you know.”

I watched him over the rim of my glass, giving him a curious look. “You did, now?”

“Aye!” He smirked at me a little, almost condescendingly, then looked back out at the crowd. “He nearly lost his shit when he first saw Vic when we got here.” He shook his head dejectedly. “Did you get angry and shove his head in a toilet or something?”

I laughed, then took another sip of my beer and forced it down along with my spit, which had become thick and sweet from the ale. “Something like that.”

“If I knew better – hell, if I weren’t so bleeding drunk – I would say that it looked like he’d just came from having a long-overdue shag in the toilets.”

“You’re a laugh and a half,” I replied, ignoring his pointed look and turning around in my stool so I could lean against the counter, copying his pose. “And a bloody fool as well.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” he dared, waving over the bartender. “Should I be asking you again if the two of you are fucking?”

“God,” I groaned, suddenly too nauseous to take a pull of my beer as I brought it from my lips, “do you have to be so crass?”

“I’m just saying I wouldn’t be surprised,” he offered after ordering another bottle of Harp. “You know, Vic was a fuckin’ prat, even while they were dating. Don’t know how he stood it. She must’ve been devilish in bed.”

I hiccupped as I struggled to swallow my drink, then gave him a severe look, my eyes wide. “Niall Horan!”

He shrugged, either far too pissed to care or just carefully blasé, I didn’t know. “She was horrible, you know. Just right horrible. Barely said a word to me edgewise if Louis wasn’t steering the entire conversation. Even from the start, she was just so… ruthless.” He thanked the bartender and slid his beer closer, throwing back the bottle as he took a long gulp.

As much as I wanted to believe that Vic was a horrible person before she cheated on Louis and sliced up his heart – and trust me, it definitely wasn’t that hard – I had to believe that Louis was smarter than that, or at least more aware of the way she acted around people she wasn’t trying to fuck over. As much as he liked to give people the benefit of the doubt, I knew he could read through people’s intentions and see beyond any sort of front someone might put up to protect themselves.

In the least, he had seen through me.

“So I keep hearing. But only from you,” I pointed out, running my finger over the rim of my schooner. “Louis can’t be that shitty of a judge of character.”

He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye and set his beer down, wrapping his fingers around the cold bottle and pressing it against his forehead. “The boys aren’t much to bitch about people, but they’d tell you the same thing,” he assured me, staring at the wall in front of him.

I twisted back around and set my Newkie down, wiping my wet hands on the edge of my dress, not even caring that I might leave an odd stain that would cost me a few equally odd looks.

“Honestly, I probably would as well.”

He quirked an eyebrow, twisting himself towards me as he kept his arms planted onto the counter. “You’ve met Vic?”

I nodded. “Before I even knew who she was, actually. Em, I kind of ran into her – well, I literally ran into her at that one charity auction with you and Zayn. She stopped by earlier this week at Louis’s as well.”

Niall’s eyes went so wide that he almost looked like he was being tortured with the Ludovico technique, his eyebrows shooting clear past his hairline like a children’s cartoon.

“Shite.” He looked almost apologetic for a moment as the smile he’d been sporting almost the entire night wavered. “What happened?”

“Exactly what you would expect,” I said. “I guess she saw the photos from Forbidden Planet. But she confronted me and nearly slapped me in the face. That’s when I finally figured out who she was.”

I paused, wondering if I should tell Niall about her coming onto Louis at the auction, but I hadn’t a clue if Louis had told him or not, or anyone else for that matter. I could only guess that Harry knew if anyone did at all, since the two of them were as close as Fran and I were. Even if Louis hadn’t told him, Harry must have noticed his suddenly scattered sleeping habits. I didn’t know Harry as well as I knew Louis, but I did know that he was somewhat like me, which was one of the reasons we got along so well and so quickly. I didn’t have a doubt in my mind that he would’ve confronted Louis about it if he hadn’t told him what Vic had done.

Satisfied with my quick explanation, Niall let out a low whistle and shook his head, sucking on his beer again. “Did you let her have it? No, wait.” He toasted me with his Harp, smiling manically. “I forget who I’m talking to. Of course you let her have it. What did you say to her?”

I clinked my glass against his and bit back a full smile, not wanting to seem so utterly proud for not taking Vic’s shit. But I told him what happened anyway, down to the heat that swelled in my chest when I called her a little shite. By the time I finished, he was nearly giddy, though it might just have been for the fact that he’d downed half of his Harp by then.

“Oi, I knew there was a reason I liked you,” he blubbered drunkenly, sniffing once and swiping at his nose.

“I hope it’s not the only one,” I told him, leaning against the bar as I smiled.

“There’s so many more, but I’m afraid that if I started counting off each one, we’d be here all night. And with the way Louis keeps looking over here,” he suggested, wiggling his eyebrows to the crowd, “I’d rather not take that chance.”

I looked over my shoulder, finally spotting Louis as he sipped on a tall glass of what I assumed was water, a lemon slice wedged on the rim. His hair was still sticking up everywhere, but he was digging his fingers through his bangs in a desperate attempt to keep them from drooping against his forehead. He spotted me just as I was about to turn back to the bar, and his lips slowly spread out into a wide grin, his smile reaching his eyes and making his laugh lines pop out. He was still with the same older bloke with the slick hair from earlier, a sprite fellow who was still talking animatedly, his free hand flying around as he sipped on a some dark liquid with mint leaves floating at the top.

I wanted to pretend that I didn’t see Louis wave me over, but Niall noticed for me before I could even duck my head and twist back around in my stool. I wanted so badly to just hang out at the open bar for the rest of the night with Niall, or maybe even Harry or Liam – neither of whom I’d even seen yet – but I just knew Louis was burning to have me back by his side.

“Aye, he’s waving you over,” Niall mumbled, backhanding my shoulder and pointing in Louis’s general direction – or at least as best he could while teetering on the edge of his barstool without tipping over. “I think he wants you to meet Giles.”

“Giles?” I exclaimed, ducking my head anyway.

I twisted to face Niall, who had suddenly procured another bottle of Harp and was sucking away on it like his mum’s tit as his Adam’s apple bobbed. His lips smacked against the top, echoing loud enough that a woman at the end of the bar behind him shot him a sour look as she stirred a mixed drink with a straw.

“Yeah, that’s Giles. Have you not met him yet?” I shook my head, and Niall sucked in a sharp breath between his teeth as he pursed his lips. “I know Louis probably painted him out to be some sort of shit-flipping ball buster, but seriously? He’s the shit. Real strict, real scary, but real nice, too. Most of the time.” He pulled out his mobile when it buzzed in his pocket, and he laughed once before slipping it back into his trousers. “My advice? Just be Blake. He’ll love you, I just know it. Though it’s kind of hard not to,” he admitted, taking another swig of his beer.

But before I could even ask him where he was heading off to, Niall had hopped off his stool and disappeared behind a group of people just a few feet away, easily melting into the throngs of random strangers with his stunted height.

I sighed and took one last sip of my beer before I slipped off my barstool, already aware of the slight buzz that made my arms feel heavy and my tongue rough like sandpaper. I guessed that now was as good a time as any to meet Giles, especially if my handler-slash-escort thought so as well.

With the way Giles was positioned, his back facing me, I was thankful that he couldn’t see me approaching the two of them, ineptly cautious, my hands gripped behind my back, until I was just a few feet away. Even with my half-arsed attempt at not interrupting their erratic conversation, Louis kept his eyes on me my entire walk there, a good ten meters or so from the safety of the bar.

I hadn’t seen Vic since Louis and I had stumbled back into the party, my hand firmly clasped in his. She took one look at the two of us and an extra-long second take at his ruffled hair, then made a beeline to the other bar (yes, the second bar, which was all the way at the opposite end of the event hall, thank god), the hem of her dress fluttering in her wake. I just hoped that she would keep her distance for the rest of the night, especially now that I was finally meeting the boys’ PR rep. I didn’t need him singling me out as a trouble maker.

Any other day, I wouldn’t give two shits about what someone thought of me as long as I was being honest, but unfortunately, what Giles thought of me went hand-in-hand with what he thought about Louis and the rest of the band. I couldn’t let my own pride get in the way of Louis’s life, or his work, or the people he worked with, either. It wasn’t my choice how I’d let people see me when I was with Louis, but it was definitely my responsibility, so in the least, I’d have to try to make a good impression or else I’d never forgive myself for mucking it up.

It was different with the fan that accosted Louis and me when we first went out for coffee. That was a knee-jerk reaction, something I couldn’t hold back even if I’d promised to behave myself just for a stranger’s sake and reputation. It was different with his mates, too. Not only did I want to impress them, since I was too far into my friendship with Louis to think otherwise and backing out at the last second from being his friend didn’t seem possible with how he’d been chasing me so relentlessly, but they were his mates first and his co-workers (for lack of a better term) second. And it wasn’t like I had to try hard, either. I got along famously with every last one of the boys.

In the half second between pushing myself off my barstool and planting my feet on the ground, I felt undeniably anxious. I’d heard a few things about Giles – usually, it was the same thing: “Giles did this!” or “Giles did that!” Usually it was just Louis griping after being reprimanded by his publicity team or the label heads, more often than not about any sort of petty bad press the five boys constantly attracted. Though his rants were rare, and hardly made for a scary story to tell in the dark, it was enough to make my head spin with a palpable uneasiness during my entire short walk up to the center of the event hall where Louis was waiting expectantly.

I didn’t realize just exactly how short Giles was until I was standing right behind him, my hands clasped behind my back. If I had chucked my heels and stood next to him in bare feet, I’d still stand taller than the pepper-haired man in front of me. Louis stared at me as I stood there, mortifyingly motionless, his gaze not leaving me for a second. He was probably wishing I’d go ahead and introduce myself, but I was at a loss. As much as I was used to talking and speaking and expressing myself, I didn’t want to embarrass Louis like I thought I had already in front of Vic. He may have apologized and he may have explained that he was just trying to help, but it was like brushing your teeth after eating greasy takeaway – it still takes a couple of days to get the taste completely out of your mouth.

Giles only stopped his spiel about some American magazine article when he noticed Louis hadn’t been looking at him for quite a while. He turned around, his brow hiked up curiously, only to jump back after noticing me standing expectantly just a few feet away.

“Hello, there!” he greeted, his voice high-pitched and horribly raspy, as if he had a burnt squeak toy stuck in his throat. “You’re Blake Eaton, yes?”

I swallowed once, glancing at Louis for a split second and taking in his blank expression, save for the smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. “Aye, that’s me.”

“I’m Giles,” he introduced in a thick midlands accent, switching his mint scotch to his other hand and extending his newly freed one. He had a ring on his pinky finger, and I just barely caught the edge of a sleeve tattoo pushing out from under his French cuff.

I took it and gripped it tightly, giving him the weakest smile I could get away with. He seemed too nice compared to what I’d heard about him. It shot up my nerves like the jittery rush of a first cup of coffee in the morning. There was no way Louis could almost be scared shitless by this bloke standing in front of me, grinning like he’d just watched the world’s most expensive strip tease.

So of course that’s what I said.

“Niall warned me about you,” I said, laughing a little in hopes he wouldn’t take me too seriously. “Same with the other boys. Said you were something fearsome.”

“Warned?” he repeated, flabbergasted. He pressed his hand to his chest, shaking his head as he frowned. “Fearsome? What a little bastard!” he gasped.

“I mean, don’t get me wrong,” I said, waving my hand at him as I smiled a little more, watching him as he gave Louis a knowing look, one of his eyebrows quirked. “You seem well decent.”

“I’m better than decent, darling. I’m a fucking riot.”

I couldn’t help the wide smile that broke out across my face. It seemed so foreign and twisted and sorely out of place compared to the rest of the evening so far that I brought up my fingers to my mouth and pressed them to my lips.

I could feel my nerves, which had nearly paralyzed me for the last minute, finally disappear, the feelings spreading through me like sneezing after holding it back for fear of sputtering snot everywhere. I was starting to feel comfortable, almost mouthy, and I gripped onto that feeling like it could save me from a shitty rest of the night.

“So, what’s your secret?”

Giles chuckled softly behind the rim of his scotch, then shot me a coy smile. “I have many secrets. You’re going to have to be more specific.”

I choked out a polite laugh, but with the way he spoke, like he was talking about some sort of inside joke, made me nervous. And it didn’t help that I could see Louis start from the corner of my eye, pausing as he brought his water to his lips. He shot Giles a look, then sipped his drink, his eyes fixated on me as he stepped to my side. I could feel his free hand next to mine as his elbow brushed against my own.

“How are you able to stand the company of these twats?” I finally stuttered out, smirking easily.

“Twats?”

I nearly jumped when Liam slinked between Louis and me, wrapping an arm around each of us. I snapped my eyes in his direction the second I heard his voice, pleasantly surprised and over the moon to see him again. Out of all the boys, I probably got on with him the quickest. He was just too friendly and talkative and refreshingly open not to.

“I’m honestly offended, Blake.”

I chuckled, reaching over to pat his back, which was draped in a long-sleeved white Henley, keeping up with the navy, white, and black palette the boys had been sticking to the entire night. “I tend to have shite opinions of people until they prove me wrong. No offense, love.”

“And why’s that?” Giles prodded, suddenly intrigued. The corner of his mouth was picked up in a smirk, and he was leaning forward so he could hear me better past the mist of conversation soaking the four of us. Louis was biting back a knowing, somewhat sad smile as he ran his finger over the rim of his glass. Obviously, he was already well aware of my answer, which was bubbling up in my throat as I struggled not to blurt it out in a sudden wave of sickening honesty.

But obviously tonight wasn’t exactly my best night.

“Because most of the time they prove me right.”

Giles’s lips twitched as he pulled back a smile, and he cocked his chin, shortly toasting my pessimistic explanation. I could hear Liam laugh a little, though hesitantly, and he squeezed past Louis and me, taking his place next to Giles. He quietly held out his hand to his publicist, his fingers flicking once, and Giles promptly dropped what looked like a Lifesaver into his palm.

“Hard drugs, Liam? Really?”

He laughed fully, his eyes crinkling, as he unwrapped the mint. “Giles always has mints in his pockets.”

“Yes, and as long as you keep acting like the good little boy I’m paid thousands to paint you out to be, you’ll keep getting them.” Giles reached up and pinched Liam’s cheek as he popped the candy into his mouth, and Liam swiped at his hand, already blushing.

“Can I get one?” Louis asked, wiping his palm on his slacks and putting it forward. “My breath’s horrible.”

Giles eyed him amusedly, then hummed. “No. You’ve been a prick lately.”

I laughed lowly, eagerly grasping a hold of this newfound sense of ease with Giles. Whatever he did to make Louis so annoyed by just the mention of his name must have just been a thing for conference rooms only.

Louis opened his mouth to respond, but just as he pointed a challenging finger at Giles, a simper pulling at the corner of his mouth, a man dressed in a rumpled suit and loose skinny tie circled around Liam and set a hand on his shoulder. He greeted him with a fist bump, then grinned at both Louis and me.

“All right, Squire?” Louis asked, reaching out a fist.

The bloke nodded, bumping it. “Fancy party,” he answered, his American accent catching me off guard. “Got a minute? I want you to meet a friend of mine, really fucking awesome producer. I recorded a couple of albums with him.”

Louis nodded eagerly, pecking my cheek and shooting me an apologetic smile before he left my side and followed the Squire chap to another small group of people a few feet away.

I watched him as he stumbled into the group, greeting a few people with smacks on the back and handshakes, his water almost spilling over. I smiled at the sight, but turned back to Liam and Giles a second later, crossing my arms as I grinned mischievously. “Now, you said you had other secrets?”

“I could make a living off of blackmail if I wanted to,” Giles quipped, folding his arm over his chest and propping up his elbow on top of his hand as he eyed me amusedly.

“Got any particularly juicy ones you’d care to part with?”

Giles downed the rest of his scotch, pinching a mint leaf between his lips. He sucked on it absently, his cheeks humming red as he swallowed his liquor. “Mmmm. A few. If you butter me up enough.”

“With the way you’re drinking, it wouldn’t take much,” Liam shot back, not even hiding a disgusted look as Giles spit the mint leaf back into his scotch glass. I tried my best not to copy his expression, instead settling with chewing on the inside of my cheek like it was a mint leaf of my own.

“I can hold my liquor!” Giles promised, stomping his foot a little. Liam shot him another look, the corner of his mouth pitched upwards in doubt. “But as for secrets…” He chuckled a little, almost sardonically, and shrugged, shooting me a blithe smile.

“Do any of them have to do with the five twats, then?”

“Zayn still sleeps with a night light,” he instantly revealed, seemingly eager to flick some dirt around. He grabbed a passing glass of champagne from a waiter, replacing its empty spot with his dried up mint scotch. He added another mint leaf he procured out of nowhere to his new drink and stirred it around with his pinky. “And Liam here gets sick with even the slightest whiff of liquor, unfortunately,” he sighed, sucking on the champagne from the tip of his finger. “It’s a wonder he’s still standing up straight.”

Liam didn’t look too embarrassed by that fact, offering me up a shrug when I scrambled to hide the look of disbelief that was unhinging my jaw. I couldn’t help but wonder how he was still in the band either, as I could only imagine all the club openings and awards ceremonies they’d been chauffeured to, all stocked up with sorts of expensive liquor, starting all the way back to when each of them sported swoopy bangs and a thousand different scarves.

“What about Louis?” I asked. I bit my lip as I side-eyed him just a little ways away, laughing at someone’s joke. The rim of his glass was pressed to his lips again, though he wasn’t drinking any of his water. He looked so carefree, so relaxed, his eyes bright and crinkled with the effortless smile he had on. “Now, I pretty much know everything, up to the Nerf guns at least, but what about some embarrassing stories?” I urged, hoping to maybe score some of the dirt Giles was so eagerly throwing around. “Maybe some questionable fashion choices or even a jealous fling or two?”

Giles looked up from his drink, beaming puckishly. “Jealous girlfriends?” He bit his lip, holding back a wide leer for only a moment before he laughed hoarsely. “Well darling,” he started, batting a hand at me, his champagne glass hanging from the tips of his fingers, dangling precariously as his hands flew about, “you do know that that’s the only reason you’re here, no?”

My brow furrowed as I watched Giles taking a sip of his champagne, only to reel back in disgust a moment later, his tongue sticking out. Another waiter passed by us then, and he dropped the crystal unceremoniously onto her tray, even though it was filled to the brim with desserts.

“I’m sorry?” I finally got out, my whole body going stiff.

Liam looked just as shocked as I felt, his eyes wide as he stared at Giles. His forehead was wrinkled like a pair of dirty khakis. “What are you on about, Giles?” he muttered, crossing his arms and ducking his head. His lips were set in a grim line as he eyed his publicist, clearly confused and suddenly serious.

“You heard me,” he huffed defiantly. He reached into his jacket and pulled out another Lifesaver, unwrapping it and popping it in his mouth. He cracked it between his teeth, his eyes downcast.

“Mr., em… Giles,” I practically begged, stepping closer. Liam eyed me warily, a frown slowly pulling at his full lips. I could feel his sympathy pegged so strongly in my direction that it nearly made me sick.

I knew that Louis had wanted to make Vic jealous, but I didn’t know he had planned tonight before I even agreed to come along – at least, if Giles was telling the truth. For all I knew, he was lying his arse off and finally showing the baleful side of himself that Louis had warned me about. But I couldn’t help but trust him, even though he was obviously pissed and I’d known him for all of five seconds.

“I like you, Blake,” Giles admitted, stepping closer. Liam lingered close behind, his hands shoved into his pockets as he watched the two of us carefully. Giles’s eyes were verging on bloodshot, but his voice had settled down, though everything about him save his steady words screamed drunk. “I like you a lot more than most of the knobs I have to deal with on a daily basis. You’re fucking brilliant, love. But I just thought you should know.” He licked his lips and shot a hard look at Louis over his shoulder, then faced me again, his voice dancing somewhere along the lines of drunk, angry, and sentimental. “And it’s not just tonight, either. All the paparazzi, your run-ins with Vic, it’s all been Louis’s plan from the start. He wanted to piss off Victoria, and bless his hell-bound soul, he found a way,” he breathed out with a sour laugh, eyeing me pointedly.

“Giles,” Liam croaked, reaching out and wrapping his hand around his arm. But Giles shook him off, shooting him a dark look, his eyes wide.

I was finally snapped out of my speechless daze by the thick scent of mint that clouded the boys’ publicist, mixed in with the familiar odor of sour tobacco that always reminded me of my dad’s father.

“Louis’s plan?” I repeated lamely, frozen to my spot. I couldn’t look at Louis himself, only a few steps away, as he kept on smiling. I ignored the burning sensation of Liam’s eyes fixated on me, pleading and poignant, as he stepped forward and blocked my view of Louis. When he reached for my arm, I tugged it away. I was careful not to look at him, as I knew with one glance, my chest would cave in under all this weight that had appeared out of nowhere.

“I just thought you deserved to know.” Giles’s eyes flicked back to Louis, who was now returning to the three of us, and his expression went soft save for his eyes, which were two vicious orbs of sharp disappointment. “He’s been using you this entire time.”

“Hey, babe,” Louis called cheerily, brushing past a few waiters. I saw him bring his arm out to give me a hug, and he probably had a well-rehearsed apology just waiting behind his teeth, waiting to sweep me up again, but I stepped back before his hand left his side, careful not to bump into Liam as I folded my arms around my middle.

When Liam set his hand at the small of my back, I nearly jumped out of my dress. Even if I actually did, the embarrassment from standing in a roomful of people in just my knickers would pale compared to how I felt at the moment, how I felt physically sick just thinking about going along with Louis’s plan, for being stupid enough to trust him since the beginning and not second guessing anything at all.

Liam’s jaw was set so hard that a muscle jumped in his cheek under his stubble. He leaned forward, his huge frame nearly shadowing mine, and held out a steady hand, waving it subtly. “Mate…”

I knew without looking that Louis was quickly piecing everything together, down to the smug look Giles had on. I didn’t know whether to be thankful that Giles told me the truth I hadn’t known existed or rather concerned about how he seemed so smug telling me to begin with. But I had to remember that he wasn’t only Louis’s publicist, he was the rest of the boys’ as well; not only that, but he worked for their label. He had to know everything that the boys did, and if they never told him what they were up to, it was only a matter of time until he’d find out. There was no way he had so much power and influence at a such a huge company to not be able to see through people and figure out what they were up to, no matter how hard they’d try to cover up their tracks.

I wanted to hide behind Liam for the rest of the night, maybe even for the rest of forever. I was burning up not only from the humiliation, but from the palpable anger swelling up inside of me as well. But I had to see Louis’s reaction. I had to see if he figured out what had happened while he was gone.

I finally relented, my face burning so hot that my skin lost all feeling, and peered over Liam’s shoulder to take in Louis’s expression. My eyes glazed over Liam’s face as I twisted around him to get a better look, and I took note of the guilt that had dimpled his chin and pulled down the corners of his lips until he looked like Tragedy from a pair of theater masks.

But there was no mask that could convey the guilt that had warped Louis’s expression into something terrifying. Had I walked up to him on the street and thought him a random stranger, had I seen him the way he was now, with his jaw set, his cheeks hollow, his lips and nose and cheeks and ears a bright red, with his eyes shiny and unable to focus on me for even a second out of insufferable guilt, I’d have thought he just hit a small child with his car or something just as desperately overwhelming.

“You… you know,” he said, his voice hitching.

I sucked in my lips and bit down hard, ripping my gaze from Louis and staring at the floor. I could feel a sob tickle my ribs as it traveled up my throat, but I choked it back just in time so that only Liam could hear me.

He looked at me over his shoulder, his head whipping back almost immediately after I strangled the sound between my teeth. I ignored the steady look he trained on me, the one where he looked like a fucking puppy, his thick brow curling into something simultaneously soft and worried. His eyes were wide and wet with sympathy, a stark contrast to the guilt that was vibrating off Louis.

I ducked my head, raking my shaking fingers through my hair. “Em, I… I need to…”

I spun around so fast that my heels squeaked like a couple of blow horns, even over the steady trip hop music that had been playing the entire night. My eyes focused on the nearest wall, where I spotted my nearest exit, nothing but a set of doors, and honed in on them, ignoring my name as Giles halfheartedly called after me. I started walking, my feet barely touching the ground before they bounced forward again. I didn’t tear my gaze from the doors for a second, not even as I ducked past party goers and wait staff alike.

Every sound came muffled in my ears as I ran, all the conversation surrounding me and even the music that echoed around the walls. But his voice cut through everything, alarmingly clear, like picking up a radio station in a sea of eerie static.

“Blake.”

I gave Louis the dirtiest look I could muster as I frantically clawed his fingers off my wrist, no longer confident in my ability to form words. I tried my best not to snarl outright, but I couldn’t help as the corner of my mouth picked up and my eyebrows knitted together tightly. I crossed my arms in front of me and wrapped my fingers around my elbows, my grip tight enough that pins and needles started to fuzz up the feeling in my arms.

“Please, just let me explain—”

“No!” I quietly shrieked, my eyes nearly popping out and pegging him in the forehead. “You lost the chance to explain yourself when you decided to lead me on!”

He balked, his eyes traveling down the length of my body before he locked eyes with me once more. “Fuck, you didn’t think—lead you on? Like… Like, erm…”

I grunted, caustically amused, and shoved his shoulder, quirking a challenging eyebrow at him. “Pull your head out of your arse, you knob,” I snapped, defiantly livid. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Oh,” he sighed. “R-right.”

“But even if I did, I certainly wouldn’t now, you twat!” I spat.

He groaned, the rough sound throttling my senses, and dragged his palm against his cheek, exhaustedly eyeing a waitress that nearly slowed to a stop next to us. He shook his head before she could open her mouth to ask if we’d like to try some of the appetizers, they’re seriously brilliant, and he kindly waved her away, his face gaunt. Her mouth formed a lopsided O, and she sidestepped us just as quickly as she got Louis’s clue.

“Just—Blake, please,” he pleaded, his voice hoarse and quiet as he set his hands on his hips and scanned the clueless guests chatting away around us. He chanced a hasty step forward, but instead of backing away like he thought I would, I closed the space between us, my hands balling into fists as I swiftly uncrossed my arms.

I grabbed him by the lapels of his suit, no longer steady and soft like I had been not an hour ago, and pulled him towards me, my grip tightening on the fabric as he stumbled forward. I was every single thing I was not when I had tried to wind him up in the corridor, and the shock of such a comparison coursed through me, feeding my fingers a frenzy that I could just barely cap. I felt like I could either break him or let the feeling break me, either of us shattering into a million pieces.

I felt demoralized. I was hurt and overwhelmed and hollowed out. I couldn’t think clearly, I was so blinded and confused. Everything seemed so wrong, and as I stood there, I felt so tortured, so distraught, so completely and utterly toyed with that my insides could have boiled straight through my skin. I felt sickeningly empty, so used and humiliated to the point that I could taste my own worthlessness. I felt exhausted, abused, and utterly alone, along with a million other emotions that the human mind has never had the need to invent a word for until that moment.

He looked frightened when I grabbed him, his eyes wide and finally focused on me towering above him with a silent, simmering rage. But when his bright eyes slid over my face, I wished he would go back to being meek and scared and guilty, as I couldn’t handle the heat of what felt like a hundred suns that came with his steady stare, not when I couldn’t forget that he had been using me the entire time I thought we were actually mates. And the worst part of it all was that he didn’t have to tell me, I just knew without a single doubt that Giles was telling the truth with just one glance at Louis.

It killed me because while I knew him, while I could read him, while I knew what he was feeling with just a single glance, I had apparently never knew him at all.

Not a second after my fingers closed around his suit, I could feel a few pairs of eyes hone in on the two of us. I couldn’t look away from Louis and snarl back at every single person who mistook me for their telly, but even if I could, the weight of all those strangers’ stares made me want to cower away again.

As much as I wanted to hurt Louis, as much as I wanted to reach out and slap him until there was a shiny, red imprint of my hand across his cheek, as much pleasure and horrifying satisfaction that would give me, it would also give him exactly what he had wanted from me this entire time – attention. It wrenched my heart in so many different directions that I could have keeled over from the strain in my chest. Coupled with the embarrassment that had stained my cheeks a deep and most permanent crimson, it was a real possibility.

So with my heart hammering hard enough against my ribs that I thought I might burst open at the seams, I did what I never did, and I ran away.