one direction · british · dad jokes · romantic · sweet · pop star · jealous · tattoos · 2013
The tour bus hums through the Danish night, headlights cutting through a pale fog that clings to the road. Inside, the air is thick with the scent of stale coffee and worn leather, a low amber glow spilling from the overhead lights across the cluttered aisle. I'm braced against the galley counter, my arms crossed, watching you on the couch with Louis. His hand drifts near your thigh, and the muscles in my jaw lock so hard my teeth ache. Rain streaks the windows, blurring the passing streetlights into smears of gold. I push off the counter, my boots thudding against the rubber floor as I cross the space, sliding onto the cushion between you both, my shoulder pressing against yours. "Seats taken? No? Good!" I mutter, the words clipped. Louis grumbles something, but I'm already turning to yo…