C H A P T E R    F O U R

Muzzles and Midol

❄●❄

                 "JESUS CHRIST LOTTIE, what the hell have you got in these?  Boulders from the Rocky Mountains?"

                  The blonde in question rolled her eyes as Louis dropped another box at her feet, tying her hair up into a knot before following him back out to their mum's car.  Lottie's had already been emptied and moved out of the way.

                   "Almost done," Jay announced, half inside her trunk.  She emerged in seconds with an armful of stuffed animals.  "You could have packed these into a box, no?"

                   Louis pulled a large suitcase from the backseat while Jay transferred her armful of plush toys into her daughter's arms, surprised and praying that she didn't have many more clothes than however many she'd managed to stuff inside this thing.

                  "Mum, 'course not.  Would you shove your babies into a box?" Lottie was saying.

                  Louis got a second look at just how many stuffed animals his sister actually had.  "Where on earth do you plan on keeping those?"

                  "Wherever my room is."

                  "Lot, your room is the den.  It's a one-bedroom flat."

                  Lottie pretended she wasn't surprised by this, but Louis saw a flash of panic on her face before she was able to hide it.  "I know.  Obviously I meant the den."

                  "Did you, though?" Fizzy asked, appearing from the other side of the car with a box in her arms labeled Musiq.

                  As far as Louis could tell, Lottie either didn't hear her younger sister or chose to ignore her as she disappeared inside the building with her armful of stuffed animals.  Louis frowned as he watched her go, admittedly wondering to himself why he ever agreed to this.  He suddenly understood Zayn's repulsion at the idea of Lottie moving in last night.

                  "Don't wind her up," Jay warned Fiz, slamming the trunk of the car shut with what must be the last of Lottie's possessions.  "I wouldn't worry, bub," she said then, standing beside Louis.  "I doubt she'll make this hard on you.  You were her last hope."

                  Louis didn't really believe his mum in the slightest, but he loved her for trying and he figured reassuring her wouldn't hurt.  And he loved seeing her – he didn't get to nearly as often as he'd like these days – but he couldn't wait for her and Fizzy to leave so that he can get Lottie situated and then maybe head on over to Gibson's before the evening rush.  He was usually gone on weekdays by then, but with weekends he had to be careful.  The evening rush is random, never occurring on a scheduled time.  That was the only thing he didn't like about the place.

                  "I'm sure everything will be fine," Louis said, smiling his tight-lipped, squinty-eyed smile because he knew it was his mum's favorite.  "I lived with her for twelve years, and we only came out with some bumps and bruises.  What's another few months to a year?"  God, that pained him to say aloud.  A year? 

                  Jay rubbed his back, returning that same tight-lipped, squinty-eyed smile, and said encouragingly, "You two did always get on the best."

                  "I get on with all of the girls.  Right, Fiz?"

                  The fifteen-year-old blinked at her brother before rolling her eyes, and considering she bore a striking resemblance to their mother – more than Louis himself or even Lottie did – Louis couldn't help giggling a bit, imagining Jay responding similarly had he not directed his question at Fizzy.

                  The three of them brought the remainder of Lottie's things inside, and after some hugs and - Louis was pretty sure - a tear or two on Jay's end, it was just himself and Lottie (and Charming and Dashing, who'd made themselves comfortable in the pile of Lottie's stuffed animals now taking up most of the sofa).  Eventually, Lottie pulled Charming onto her lap and made herself comfortable, sinking into the cushions the same way Louis usually does. 

                  "Are you hungry?" Louis asked, turning to see what he could find in his fridge.  There had to be some kind of leftovers in there. 

                  "Not really.  Do you have hot chocolate?"

                   Why the hell would he have hot chocolate in September?  "Uh, no.  I've got...tea, beer, apple juice, and milk."

                  "Apple juice, then.  Hey, which one of these little guys is which?"

                  "You've got Charming.  Dashing is the one currently chewing that stuffed pig's tail."

                   He heard Lottie gasp, some shuffling, and then a meow, and the next thing he knew Dashing had joined him in the kitchen.  "Hey, pal," he greeted him quietly, pouring his sister a cup of juice. 

                  He remembered when Lottie was younger, when he still lived back in Doncaster with everyone; she was so different then.  He supposed he was probably quite different then as well, but even her appearance has changed drastically.  She was so blonde now...did she bleach her hair?  Wasn't that bad for it?  He wasn't sure, and he didn't frankly care enough to actually ask.  She'd lost some weight, too.  He remembered being worried that she'd become too concerned with the way she looked that while he was home for her seventeenth birthday he sat her down to talk about it.

                   She quickly laughed him off, of course.  And then she pulled out a journal where she had jotted down a surprisingly detailed diet and exercise plan; he couldn't complain.  As long as she wasn't harming herself, he couldn't complain.

                   Not that he was the poster boy for healthy habits or anything.  He knew he wasn't.  Maybe that was one of the reasons he was always so worried about his sisters following in his footsteps.

                  He brought Lottie her apple juice and then clapped his hands.  "Alright, let's get some things situated.  I've got to run a couple errands, so I'll leave you unpacking while I'm gone."

                  His sister wrinkled her nose.  "Of course you're going to leave me to unpack alone."

                  Louis nearly scoffed.  "Honestly Lot, at the rate you move you'll hardly have one box emptied by the time I get back.  Let's go."

                  She set Charming aside and stood, following her brother when he led her into his bedroom.  "I made some room in my closet for you, but if you need more than that you're going to have to go out and buy yourself a dresser or a rack or something.  If you need the bottom drawer of my nightstand, my socks are in there but I suppose I can move them."

                  "Your room is small," she noted.  "Smaller than I remember it being the last time we visited.  Have you gotten more furniture or something?"

                  Louis looked around, trying to remember if he'd made any major changes to the place since Easter.  "Not that I recall.  It's just messy."  He slipped around her and back out of the room.  "C'mon."

                  There really wasn't enough floor space in the bathroom for the both of them, so he waited in the hallway after ushering Lottie in.  "You can have the top shelf behind the mirror and whatever room is left beneath the sink.  Don't touch my razors, my tooth paste, or my deodorant.  I'd like to hope you've grown out of the phase, but somehow I doubt it."

                  "Ye of little faith," she mumbled.  "No worries.  Your razors gave me rashes anyway."  Louis smiled a bit, fond, while Lottie peeked behind the shower curtain.  "Do you not have a shower mat?"

                  Louis stared at her.

                  "Lou," she scolded.  "You could slip and fall, you idiot.  You have to get a shower mat."

                  The last thing Louis felt like doing in that moment was getting into an argument with his little sister, so he raised his hands in surrender.  "Alright, alright.  I'll add a shower mat to my list of things I didn't plan to spend money on today but clearly am going to have to.  Don't worry."

                  "What else is on that elaborately-titled list?"

                  "A muzzle and Midol."

                  Lottie's laugh rang out in the otherwise quiet flat.  She swatted at her older brother as they made their way into the kitchen.  "Don't be a dick."

                  Louis told her where all of his food (there wasn't much) was stored and pointed out the grocery list he'd stuck to the fridge but never used because he was either working, writing songs, or sleeping lately.  Sometimes he was truly surprised that he remembered to eat at least one meal a day. 

                  Lottie decided she'd shower and then unbox her clothes and get whatever she planned to keep in Louis' room away first so that if he wanted to go to bed early tonight he could do so unbothered.  It began to bother Louis how grown up his sister seemed for some odd reason, and he figured he needed to get some fresh air; he's been lifting Lottie's shit all day and he needed a break.

                  "I'll be back in a few hours," he announced, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

                  "Sure.  Don't forget the muzzle."

                  "Noted."

❄●❄

                  HE MANAGED TO miss the evening rush, thank God. 

                  In fact, for the most part, Gibson's was empty.  There was just one couple hiding behind a laptop screen in a booth as far as anyone could possibly get from Louis' little corner, himself, and the barista boy.  His name was Chad; he was a blonde, freckled college student with braces.  Louis liked to discuss the weather patterns and whatever is currently trending on Twitter with him sometimes, but after Louis got his tea today he retreated into his corner eagerly and quietly.

                  One thing Louis didn't particularly enjoy about Chad, though, was the boy's taste in music or lack thereof.  He usually had the worst playlists on repeat, which was why on weekends, Louis made sure to always bring his headphones.  As he settled into the black sofa and pulled out his moleskin notebook and a pen, he allowed Paul Simon to lull him into a creative, relaxed state.

                  A couple hours later, he was pretty sure he'd garnished up enough material that the lads would forgive him for missing a day or two of writing with them.  He left Gibson's with a swing in his step and a smug half-smile on his face.

                  After fetching a bath mat so that Lottie wouldn't throw a tizzy later, he returned to his flat to find that she'd made next to no progress, like expected.  She did, however, manage to move all of her stuff out of the way of the pull-out bed in his sofa.

                  Her hair was damp from her shower, hanging limp and long in front of her face as she attempted to make her own bed.  She glanced up at the sound of Louis returning, offering him a quick smile.  "I did your dishes."

                  "Why?"

                  "As a thanks, I guess.  Also, thank God you remembered the mat.  I nearly died in there."

                  Drama queen.  "I'm sure.  Weren't you going to unpack...something?"

                  "I did," she insisted, sitting herself on her finished work.  "My clothes are put away.  I did end up needing that drawer so I just put your socks on your bed."

                  "Ah."  Louis brought his bag into his room, shutting the door behind him so that he could change into some sweats and a T-shirt.  When he went to bring the bath mat into the bathroom, Lottie was sifting through his movie cabinet.

                  "Have you got Grease on DVD?  I would have brought my copy if I'd known you didn't already own it, but I figured – "

                  "Of course I have Grease," Louis scoffed, lying stomach-down on his sister's bed.  "Who do you think I am?"

                  "Then where is it?"

                  "It's like you don't know me at all.  Already in the player."  He crawled toward the coffee table (which had been moved out of the way as well) and used the remote to turn both the TV and his DVD player on.  "There."

                  While Lottie began the movie, Louis slipped into the kitchen to put a pizza in the oven.  When he rejoined her in the den, she was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bed with one of her stuffed animals in her lap.  In moments like this one, Louis didn't see his grown-up little sister.  He just saw Lottie, baby Lottie, the little strawberry-blonde nuisance who wouldn't leave Louis' side a few short years ago.  A lot has changed, but her eyes haven't, and they were as blue and innocent and youthful as ever.  A lot like his, actually.  Just bigger, wider.

                  He climbed back onto the bed and sat behind her, gathering all of her hair and beginning to braid it the way he used to watch their mum do it almost every night after Lottie's shower.  She didn't say a word as if this didn't surprise her at all, and together they watched their favorite movie.  At some point Charming and Dashing decided to join them, and Charming even took the place of Lottie's giant teddy bear in her lap. 

                  Louis was pretty sure that cat already loved her.  Traitor.  At least he was still Dashing's favorite.

                  For now, anyway.