Burn Me Like the Sun

Being in Liam’s house without anyone else around made it seem bigger somehow. The coffered ceiling appeared to hover further above me than it had when I was backed into the corner of the sofa with Louis using my leg as a pillow. The telly appeared to have swallowed up the entire wall that it was leaning against. Even the coffee table looked to have grown, as earlier it seemed just big enough to house a passionate game of Risk. Now, with a new stack of magazines piled in a corner and no tea mugs to speak of, it looked large enough to line with felt and play some billiards.

With everything suddenly appearing so huge, it made me feel even smaller, and I hated the familiar feeling.

“Did you feel like anything specific?” Liam asked behind me as I tip-toed into his living room.

I shook my head in response, too busy taking in the ample sunlight that was bursting through the bow window to give Liam a proper answer. It was brighter today than it had been the entire last week, and the light seeping through the blinds was just enough to illuminate the entire living room, from the dark floorboards to the beams on the ceiling.

Liam sighed after a moment and ducked into the kitchen, leaving me to myself.

I took a seat on the sofa with a blanket lumped in the corner. It looked like someone had slept there, or at least taken a nap on the settee, as the leather was still wrinkled and the other two sofas still had quilts neatly draped across the back cushions. I played with the fringe of the knitted quilt, as I was at a loss for what to do. I didn’t see a clicker in sight, and I was afraid that if I so much as touched the telly, it’d fall over and crush me to death. The magazines looked too neat and tidy to mess up, as did the rest of Liam’s flat. He was more organized than Louis and Fran combined.

Liam came sauntering back in with two thick Eurosandwiches squeezed together on a plate a few minutes later. He beckoned me to sit back down when I got up to follow him back to the kitchen, and set the plate on the coffee table.

“Want a drink?”

I clasped my hands together, staring at the sandwiches. “I’m guessing it’s a bit too early to be on the piss,” I joked dryly. “Suppose you don’t have any coffee on hand?”

He barely nodded before he went back into the kitchen, emerging a moment later with a glass of water and an apologetic look.

“It’ll be a moment.”

“’S fine,” I said, watching Liam as he settled himself in the corner of the sofa adjacent to me. He reached for a sandwich and started eating, his head ducked as he slouched forward.

“I thought you said you were hungry,” Liam observed, taking a sip of water as he glanced at me.

“I am,” I told him, nodding my head a little as I played with my fingers.

“Go on, then,” he mumbled past a fresh mouthful of his food, covering his lips with his hand. “I brought it out for you to eat, not for you to look at.”

I tentatively reached for the sandwich, making sure it didn’t crumble and spill all over the floor and the leather cushions. My stomach grumbled when I got a whiff of the meat piled on the sandwich, then I let myself take a heady bite. But I nearly spat it all out with what Liam said next.

“I think you should forgive him.”

I turned my head in his direction but kept my eyes focused on the arm rest next to me as I carefully chewed my food. A surge of gooseflesh pricked at my arms as I struggled not to sling back a threat in response.

If anyone in One Direction was smarter than the rest of the boys, I’d pegged it to be Liam within the first hour of getting to know him. It wasn’t that the rest of them were idiots (though Louis certainly stood out from the combined stupidity of the other four lads). Liam just seemed more careful and attentive and rational – almost kind of like Fran, when I thought about it. If anyone else had said the exact same thing, that I should forgive Louis, I would have brushed them off heatedly or in the least slung out the proverbial threat; I mean, I’d nearly torn Harry’s head off the night before when he’d suggested all but the same thing. But there was something in the way Liam said it, like he was just as convinced that I should throw Louis a bone as he was sure he loved to sing, that made me steel myself.

“Not—not now, of course,” he continued when I still hadn’t snapped from the staggered state that had turned my tongue into sand. “But one of these days.”

I’d barely swallowed my first bite before I settled with shooting him a severe look, my eyes narrowed. Guilt gnawed at his face, his forehead wrinkling as he struggled to appear apologetic, but he only ended up looking scared instead of sorry. He cowed under my pointed stare and settled for taking a sip of water, finally chancing another look my way as I dropped my sandwich back onto the plate.

“Well, go on. I know you’re just dying to say something. You know, put me in my place, maybe top it off with one of those nice, detailed threats you’re so famous for.”

I scoffed. “Alreet, then. If you’re asking for it.”

He only smiled softly.

“I’m just so… so angry.” I took a deep breath, my fingers shaking as I let it out. “I’m almost always on the verge of angry, but this just takes the fucking cake.”

I clenched my teeth, bracing myself as I stole a glance at Liam. He’d put his sandwich back down as well and had his legs pretzeled out in front of him, his drink in his lap as he studied me carefully. He looked genuinely curious and not the least bit phased, so I went on, locking eyes with him as I spoke.

“I’m so bloody livid that the simple thought of forgiving that twat fifty years from now – and trust me,” I said, pointing at him, “that will still be too soon – makes me want to scream. I feel like knocking the prick’s teeth in. Humph. Pretty much threatened as much this morning.”

“This morning?” Liam’s brow curled as he looked at me, his back becoming rigid as he twisted in his seat.

“He stopped by for a visit before I left for class.” I laughed bitterly. “Oh my god, he’s such a dafty fucker. Just made things worse for himself. But honestly, though, who’s the bigger idiot – him, or me?”

Liam sighed, shaking his head. “Blake—”

“That’s what I thought,” I quipped sourly.

“No, Blake, just—” Liam groaned a little, tearing his eyes from me. He reached up and rubbed his palm over the buzzed ends of his haircut, glancing off to the side.

I sucked on my teeth, burying my hands in my lap. “You know, you’re acting like you’re on his side. And frankly, it’s cheesing me off.”

He snapped his eyes back to me, all wide and innocent. “I’m not!” He sighed gruffly, pressing his lips to his glass of water. “I didn’t know what he was doing, at least not until last night.” He shook his head, chewing on his lip as he took a moment to think through his words. “I had an inkling, though. I asked him about it as best I could when he brought over those sugar cookies the both of you botched, but he lied to me.”

My heart whimpered at the memory, but I ignored the strain in my chest and burned my focus onto Liam.

“What about last night, then?” I reminded him, finally dragging the quilt onto my lap and staring at the rainbow of threads that lined the edges. “You said he told you everything, yeah?”

He only nodded.

“Well?”

Liam looked at his lap, a muscle twitching in his cheek as he clenched his jaw. “It’s not much, to be honest.”

“Stop mucking about, mate,” I bit out. “Just tell me what he said.”

He clenched his teeth again, then reached over and set his hand on my armrest, his usually muddy eyes suddenly sharp and honest. “He tipped off the paparazzi at Forbidden Planet.”

My eyes slipped shut, and I brushed my fingertips against my lips as the corner of my mouth twitched. My nerves were fluttering about, making it impossible for me to decide if I felt more furious than wounded.

“But that was the only time.” He grunted once, shaking his head. “Honestly, though, he hasn’t been exactly avoiding the paparazzi like he normally does, so it doesn’t mean shit. None of it does. God, he still used you.”

I let out a quiet, breathy half-laugh, finally looking at Liam as he pinched my leather armrest between his fingers. He had said exactly how I’d felt since I’d found out, and I was sure he didn’t even realize it.

“He invited you to the BBC benefit before he knew Vic was going to be there,” he continued, his voice becoming quieter. “He wanted a chance to sort of, y’know, introduce you to our world without scaring you off. He thought you were going to warm up to the paparazzi, but when he finally realized that you hate attention just as much as you hate him right about now, he thought he’d show you his life from a distance.”

I frowned. “You know what he called it, Vic being there?” He hummed curiously. “He said it was a happy accident,” I repeated lamely.

“What a prat,” Liam grunted, scratching at his patchy stubble.

“I’m just…” I ran my fingers through my hair, glancing off to the side as Liam hunched over the arm rest, his gaze still locked onto me. “Oh, god. I hate him. So much.”

It was almost a minute later when Liam finally spoke, his eyebrows upturned as he looked at me, his features drowning in sympathy. “You know what I think?”

“If it’s not a detailed plan on how I can get away with murdering the wanker, then I don’t care.”

The corner of his mouth picked up as he fought a smile, but he gave in to the urge, shooting his lap a grin that reached his eyes. He twisted his face back into a picture of earnestness after a moment, his eyebrows pinched together.

“I don’t think he meant for things to go as terribly as they did. I honestly think he’s sorry, Blake.”

I scoffed. “Mate, I don’t care if he’s fucking sorry or bloodied up in a ditch. He hasn’t even given me a reason to even consider forgiving him, and yet you still keep pushing me to give him a chance.”

“He will give you a reason,” he offered breathlessly, looking the kind of hopeful like a child on Christmas Eve. “He hasn’t given up just yet.”

I opened my mouth to give Liam reasons of my own why Louis would never go to such lengths to apologize considering he knew he had a death wish if I ever saw him again when I heard a faint string of beeps coming from the next room.

“For a second, I thought that sounded like me mobile,” I mused. “That your coffee maker?”

Liam got up and circled around the couch, taking the leftover food with him. “Yeah, that’s it. Wait.” He paused just at the foot of the couch, and the light from the bow window curled around him. “Isn’t your mobile still at Harry’s?”

I shrugged, but got up to follow him to the kitchen. “Yeah. Why?”

“I was thinking, well…” He bobbed his head as he walked, and I followed close by. “Maybe I could take you. It’s kind of on the way, no? At least, it’d be easier that way. You wouldn’t have to go by yourself some other time. And I know you don’t want to.”

Liam was right, I didn’t want to go by myself, because I was sure if Louis answered the door with that same guilty look he’d plastered on not six hours ago, I’d slap it off his face.

“I can give Harry a ring and let him know we’re stopping by, yeah?”

I was only able to nod before Liam got distracted by his own mobile, which was suddenly ringing rather loudly in his pocket. He nearly tripped over his own feet at the sound, and he struggled to keep the leftover food balanced on the plate and his water from spilling as he reached for his pocket. I took the dishes from him before he could drop everything and make a mess of the floor, and he answered his mobile just before it stopped ringing.

“’Lo?”

I circled around Liam as he ducked his head, his arm folded over his chest as he nodded to whatever he was being told. He glanced at me before he twisted around and leaned against the island, his back curling forward.

“Does he need me right now, Macey?” he pleaded softly. I busied myself with putting away the dishes when Liam shot me a look, his forehead wrinkled in the center like a bulldog. “Can you give me an hour? I’m with a friend.”

I smiled to myself, but made sure Liam couldn’t see as I pulled my chin to my shoulder. It faded quickly, though, when I remembered that I wasn’t exactly planning on seeing the rest of the lads anymore. Not after what happened.

Liam sighed shortly and nodded again, mumbling his thanks before he hung up.

“Macey… That’s Giles’s assistant, no?” I recalled distantly.

Liam nodded and pocketed his mobile. “Says Giles wanted to speak to me. What he can’t say over the telephone or in front of the boys, I haven’t a clue. Probably just wants me to fill him in on what happened after you gave Louis a good verbal lashing in front of everyone.” He shot me a weak smile.

I swallowed hard, averting my eyes from him.

“That’s not to say that I’m telling him anything,” he offered, sounding hopeful. “This is between you and Louis. But for the boys’ sake, I might have to. He likes holding them over my head.”

“It’s fine, I don’t care. I’ve already been embarrassed enough,” I grumbled, crossing my arms and leaning against the counter across from him.

“Well, I’ve still got some time before I have to be there.” He mimicked my pose, hooking his hands on his elbows. “Let’s just go to Harry’s now so you don’t have to go by yourself. I’ll even fetch it myself if you want me to,” he offered sweetly.

I was about to tell him that I didn’t need any help, that I could take care of myself, that I was just as capable of taking the Tube as he was of making a detour on the way back to my flat, but then my brain short-circuited with the image of me running into Louis while standing on the doorstop as Harry fetched my mobile, the picture clearer than 35 millimeter film. And of course Louis would find an excuse to pry himself from the piano (where I was sure he had glued himself since our—well, my shouting match that morning) and confront me while I waited for Harry. Just the possibility was enough to make me want to hurl, but seeing it so clear in my head made my hands shake at my sides as my ears were flooded with the sound of my own heartbeat.

So I let Liam stop by their townhouse when he promised that he would fetch my mobile for me.

Liam drove quietly on the same roads he’d taken when he had picked me up, but when he went to take a right on Warwick Road instead of driving straight through the light, an eerie sense of calm expunged my nerves, lulling my shaking fingers to a stillness that only came over me after a towering caffeine crash at the end of a long night at work. I started breathing regularly again until my heart rate picked up once more – not out of anxiousness, but pure pleasure from the realization that this would probably be the last time I’d have to chance running into Louis.

One of the things that went through my mind after I’d stained Fran’s dry-cleaned work shirt with my tears on the settee the night before was whether or not I was going to stay mates with the rest of the lads. While I did enjoy the time I’d spent with the boys, all things considered, I couldn’t see myself watching a match at Harry’s or grabbing a pint with Liam without chancing running into Louis or the idiot even tagging along. Just the pure association of Louis with the rest of the boys to begin with made it feel like I’d always have a soft stone at the pit of my stomach, taking up room and weighing me down and reminding me who of the five would be missing every time I came around. I couldn’t chance that, as much as it would upset the rest of the boys, and even to an extent Fran.

It was in Liam’s Beemer that I realized if I was going to end whatever friendship I had with the rest of the lads, it would be best to get it over with quickly, starting with seeing Harry one last time, even if it meant risking an encounter with Louis. So that was why when Liam told me he’d be back shortly and climbed out of the car, I pushed open my passenger door and trailed after him, my mouth set in a firm line and my eyes narrowed.

Liam jumped and looked over his shoulder when he heard the car door slam shut, his hands poised in front of him like he was being held up at gunpoint.

“I thought you wanted to stay behind.”

I gave him the most resolved look I could muster, rolling my eyes up to meet his as I tilted my chin to the side, adding a quirked eyebrow for effect. “I’ve changed my mind.”

With slight confusion wrinkling his forehead, he only nodded and turned back around, ambling up to the buzzer at the front gate.

All I could make out was crackling on the intercom, but the way Liam’s face fell, his eyebrows pinching together as he bit his lip, told me exactly who was on the other end. He answered back quickly and quietly, and soon the smaller gate beeped open, and I followed Liam across the garden to the front door as the giddiness that had made my hands shake out of anticipation dragged down my feet like they were set in cement blocks.

I couldn’t exactly wait in the car again. I couldn’t take back the front I’d shoved at Liam, and I certainly didn’t want him to worry about me either. And I just knew he’d force it out of me why I changed my mind and tagged along, and as much as I wanted to leave the rest of the boys behind, I couldn’t do that to him. I couldn’t say it out loud. So when Liam ambled up to the patio, I stood off to the side and leaned against the handrail along the stairs, far enough away and at such an angle that it would be difficult for anyone to see me around the corner while I still had a good view of the doorway.

If I couldn’t run away, at least I’d try to hide.

Liam reached up to ring the bell, but before he even pushed it, the door swung open, the cool air from the house drenching my skin through my cardigan.

My chest felt heavy and all at once light, like there was a hollow space where my heart should have been, suddenly replaced with hot air and a dull sense of want. The breath immediately hitched in my throat, and I aimed my eyes at the ground, my fingers already reaching up to play with the ends of my hair.

I never thought Louis could have such an effect on me. He wasn’t even trying to get a rise out of me and I was still struggling to stand up straight. I pegged the feeling on misplaced guilt, though it didn’t exactly quite fit, like a beaten puzzle piece thrown into the wrong box.

I hated how broken he looked. He was wearing his glasses again, and his hair was a curly mess, all piled at the top of his head. His joggers hung low on his waist and his t-shirt was even more wrinkled than it had been that morning, as if he hadn’t slept all night and finally collapsed on the couch once he got home after he came by my flat. His eyelids were pink and puffy, the soft, swollen skin under his eyes brandishing a single wrinkle that I’d only ever see when he was laughing.

But he definitely wasn’t laughing now, looking the proper hot mess that he did, and I think seeing him so ruined hurt the worst. Because in some twisted, unfortunate way, it was because of me.

“Hey, mate,” Liam started, shooting me a quick look as he rolled his neck. “Is Harry in?”

Louis narrowed his eyes and shook his head slowly. “Why are you asking me? Just give him a ring or something,” he grumbled, his voice scratching my ears like sandpaper. “Mobiles exist for a reason.”

Liam sighed. “Is he here or not?”

“Went out to meet with Giles a few minutes ago,” he mumbled, looking off to the side. “You might be able to catch him at Sony if you’re quick about it.” He paused for a moment, then scrunched up his nose. My heart grew wild. “Why?”

“I’m here to pick up Blake’s mobile for her.”

Louis’s face fell, his brow wrinkling as he scrunched his nose again. He ducked his chin to his neck as he rubbed his lips together in a belated attempt to hide his dejection from Liam. But even from around the corner of the doorjamb, I could still clearly see the stricken look that crossed his face.

“Course you are,” he grunted, nodding a little. “Tough luck, because I don’t have it. I didn’t even know she lost it.”

“Harry has it,” he explained, nervously shifting his weight. “She asked me to pick it up for her.”

Louis’s head shot up and he narrowed his eyes at Liam. “She… She asked you?”

“Yes,” he replied, a bit unsteadily.

“When she doesn’t have her—how?”

Liam’s brows pinched together. “I—”

“She’s in the car, isn’t she?”

Liam glanced at me – the picture of acting, that boy was – and shook his head, reaching up to pinch the nape of his neck. “No, she’s not. I haven’t even—”

But before Liam could even think up a passable lie, Louis stepped onto the patio, first peering around the corner to his right and then twisting around to his left, where I was hiding just beyond the edge of the doorway with my mouth agape in surprise. I could feel the familiar sensation of fight or flight shake my bones as Liam moved in front of me. His arms splayed out to his sides, and he gave Louis a hard look as he planted his hand on the doorjamb, his jaw set. But Louis wasn’t daunted in the least and tried pushing him aside, his eyes bright and pleading and sprinkled with red as he narrowed his gaze at me over Liam’s stiff shoulders.

“Blake, just—Liam, stop it, for fuck’s sake—Blake!”

I moved out from behind Liam, shaking my head as I ignored the pleading look Louis had trained on me. I crossed my arms and started down the stairs, only stopping at the last step when he called out my name again.

“Babe,” he gasped, sucking the air back in his chest as a strangled breath left my own.

I spun around, pointing a threatening finger at Louis as Liam scattered off to the side, shooting me an apologetic look. But it didn’t even matter, as I could barely focus on what I’d say to Liam back in his car while I had standing in front of me the most infuriating man I’d ever known, just inches from getting his windpipe crushed by my bare hands.

“Shut up. Fuck, Louis, just… Just shut up.”

He instantly stiffened at my voice, making a dissatisfied noise as he wrinkled his nose yet again. Liam started his way down the steps and met me at the bottom, his shoulder brushing mine.

“Blake, please, just give me one minute—no! Thirty seconds. Just let me—”

I shook my head and slunk behind Liam, ducking my head so I couldn’t be tempted to watch Louis’s reaction from over Liam’s shoulder.

“Liam, please, didn’t you tell her?”

Liam sighed deeply, and I could feel the heat roll off his back as I stepped closer to him. I couldn’t hold off any longer and snuck one last look at Louis, taking in the pained expression that had brought out every little wrinkle and every last line in his face, from the streaks around his mouth to the stress lines in his forehead, all of which, combined together, made it seem that much more likely that his skin would split open from all the tension pinching his muscles.

He tried taking the first step down the stairs, but Liam instantly stiffened in front of me and pleaded, somewhat annoyed, “Louis.”

He clenched his jaw, watching me behind Liam as a painful expression pulled at his face – quite like the one he had on when he’d burned himself on my stove just a few weeks ago. Seeing Louis so defeated coaxed out a frown of my own, despite how hard I tried to stop it. I finally tucked my chin to my neck and promised myself that I’d not look up from my scuffed trainers until I was sure he had crumbled into dust at my feet.

“Why are you being so quiet?”

I could feel Liam steel himself again, and he brought his arm behind him, touching my jittery hands as he shifted away from the stairs.

“Why are you hiding yourself behind him?” He licked his lips and shook his head like he was listening to a depressing news segment. “It’s just me.”

I could only shake my head at the ground as I heard Louis’s slippers grate against the concrete steps.

“Blake, I’m begging you, just look at me.”

I shook my head like I was stuck in an electric chair, my chin jerking unsettlingly. I couldn’t look at him, and even if I wanted to, it wouldn’t do either of us any good anyway: my temper would rise, and I’d probably give in to my resentment, slinging insults and snippets of anger at him like they were lightening bolts. Still, his words carried a weight in my eyes, and I brushed my thumb under my eyelid, suddenly soft and puffy like his. Luckily enough, my skin came up dry, but it still felt like someone had crushed a solid pepper and grinded it into my eyes and sprinkled my face with the remains.

Liam made a warning noise, his voice gruff. “You’re only making it worse, mate.”

“Don’t.” Louis stretched out the word, his voice curt and unsavory before it hitched as he raised his voice. “I know. I’ve been, I am, I’m just… just a fucking twat. I know. But—”

I scoffed quietly, shaking my head again. I bit my knuckle as I stared at the cyme of white carnations housed in a large flowerpot at the edge of the driveway, all on the verge of blossoming, and counted a perfect dozen. But a single flower was left drooping over the edge of the pot, withered and abused by the sunlight, its green leaves shriveled and pale.

“I already miss you.”

I snapped my head at Louis, then pushed Liam out of way, a snarl hitching my lips as I bared my teeth. “Don’t. Don’t you dare,” I growled. “It’s not been twenty-four hours, but you better get used to it. Because trust me, ten lifetimes after today, it’ll still be far too bleedin’ soon, you ungrateful, loathing, self-centered bastard.”

He brought up his hand and grated his fingers through his hair as he stared back at me. His eyes were bright and wet and nearly as red as his lower lip, which he had trapped between his teeth almost to the point of drawing blood. His glasses had slipped down his nose, which was burning a bright pink along with his ears.

It felt like the blood in my heart had been drained straight from my chest and spilled into every nerve ending I had. I was light-headed and angry and buzzing from every inch of my skin, and watching Louis cower and stare at the ground, like he could even fathom what I was feeling, made it that much worse. Even a bucket of ice water wouldn’t have been enough to calm me down.

I made sure to slam the iron gate when I walked out of his garden as coolly as I could manage, sinking my feet into the grass with every step.

When I shut the passenger door, I crumbled into the warm leather of Liam’s car like one of the Superman sugar cookies I’d made with Louis, only there was nothing heroic about how I struggled to breathe with my lips pressed to my knees as my fingers yanked roughly through my hair.

I finally sat up after a moment when I heard Liam’s door open. I only glanced at him once, taking in the grim line of his lips and his apologetic eyes before I twisted around in my seat and forced myself to stare out the window for the entire ride back to my flat.

I brought my fingers up to my face just as Liam pulled from the curb, but when they slumped back down in my lap, they were wet.