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heyyyharry · 4 years

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Flatmate: Y/N and Layla fight and the boys have to do something

Word count: 2.7k (Yay long blurb! I personally loveeee this one)

Anon:

We’ve seen flatmate Harry and y/n fight but what about y/n and Layla’s big fight? What would they fight about that would leave them no speaking? I can see them fighting and Niall still wanting to hangout with Harry and Layla throwing a fit that he’s picking sides 🥺

I definitely see Layla as the type to be upset regarding y/n getting closer to another girl for the fear of being replaced and y/n loving that Layla loves her so much but says she can feel smothered and wants to be able to make her own friends 🥺

“So you and Louis aren’t talking...again,” Harry said as he flopped down next to Y/N and pulled her into his arms.

“I’m not talking to him,” Niall scoffed, one hand using his phone, the other wrapped around Layla. “If he wants to talk, go to Layla’s and beg me to come back.”

“Oh my God.” Layla rolled her eyes. “You boys are so dramatic. Kindergarten must have been hard for you.”

“As if you and Y/N never fight,” Harry said.

“Never.” Layla lifted her shoulders.

Y/N nodded nonchalantly. “That’s because you’d bullied me enough in the past.”

“True,” Layla said while inspecting her nails. “Bullying you was so...last year. Now I’m bullying Harry.”

She pushed out her tongue and reached across Y/N to pet Harry’s head like he was a dog. He slapped her hand away and brushed his hair back into place. “I don’t believe you,” he said. “Even Y/N and I fight sometimes.”

“Since when did Y/N and you become the standard of everything?”

“Since always.” Harry wiggled his eyebrows, and she mockingly smiled at him with her whole face.

She didn’t care if anyone believed it; she and Y/N were not one of those basic girl friend duos. Sure, they weren’t a match made in heaven, and those cheesy friendship quotes on Tumblr didn’t apply to them. If Y/N made a friendship bracelet for her, would she wear it? Yes, only if it didn’t look like shit and went well with her outfit that day. Would she make Y/N a friendship bracelet? Absolutely fucking not.

But the thing was, Y/N didn’t care about those things. She was the ‘okay, fine, whatever’ type of girl; not the mean one, more like a people-pleaser. Layla, on the other hand, always had a lot to say about everything. Fuck the ‘we’re best friends because we have a lot in common’ bullshit. Layla believed best friends – just like lovers – had to complement each other. You started off as two completely different people and learnt to compromise and live in harmony and eventually morphed into one.

Layla had been somewhat influenced by Y/N’s tame manner; she no longer slammed doors in (some) people’s faces, or pulled Trix’s hair when she walked behind her, or kicked Harry’s in the nuts (because those were Y/N’s properties now. Ew!). And Y/N had gained more self-confidence since they’d started hanging out; she wore more revealing clothes, drank alcohol without throwing up and went to bars with only occasional panic attacks.

Layla believed they were imperfectly perfect for each other. So why would they want to risk losing it over a stupid fight?

A week after the conversation at Harry and Y/N’s place, there was a group assignment for the International Management course Layla and Y/N had registered together. Initially, there had been Harry, who’d bailed them at the last minute for his internship in a big firm (which he couldn’t shut up about). But at least she had Y/N. They would group together as they always did; it was the rule.

“What do you mean you’re doing this with Portia?!” Layla cried out as she grabbed Y/N’s shoulder and spun her around. “Who the fuck is Portia?”

“She’s in my book club and she’d asked me weeks ago,” Y/N said, hugging her textbooks to her chest. “I have other friends, too, you know.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“Nothing. This isn’t personal, Layla.”

“It fucking is. I can’t do this with other people. I have anxiety.”

Y/N arched an eyebrow. “No, you don’t.”

��When I present an academic topic, I do!”

“Every single one of our courses has presentation assignments!” Y/N shouted at her. Y/N had never shouted at her. If one of the boys did that, she would’ve slapped them. But this was Y/N.

Y/N had never shouted at her.

She took a step back, eyes widened in disbelief. “Why are you shouting?”

Y/N said nothing and pinched the bridge of her nose, like she always did whenever she argued with Harry.

“Wait. Are you picking a fight with me?”

“We’re not fighting, Layla.”

“We weren’t until you started shouting!” Now Layla was shouting too. “You could’ve at least told me you’d picked another. What am I supposed to do now?”

“Stop being so melodramatic.”

“No, this is real drama.” Layla raised a finger. “First, you picked someone else without telling me–”

“There’s still plenty of time to find you a partner, Layla.”

She ignored Y/N and raised another finger. “Second, you shouted at me.” Then another one. “Third, you–”

“You’re so controlling, you know that?” Y/N interjected and glanced around to make sure they weren’t causing a scene. “This isn’t even a big deal. I can still help you with the presentation without being your partner. We don’t have to do everything together. It’s like you think you made me or something.”

Layla arrogantly crossed her arms. “Well, if you feel that way then maybe it’s true.”

Y/N dropped her jaw, her eyes too big. “You know what?” she said with a huff, holding the books tighter to her chest. “Good luck with your anxiety when no one wants to group with you because you’re...you’re a bitch!”

Y/N winced like she’d never called someone a bitch before. That was because she’d never called anyone a bitch before. Layla let it sink in when she watched Y/N walk away.

“This is ridiculous, babe!”

“Don’t! Let me go!” Layla grabbed the handrail of the lift as Niall tried to pull her out of there with his arms tightened around her waist. The door slid open again and they snapped their heads at the same time to see Ben, who awkwardly lifted a hand to say hello.

“Ben, tell her she’s overreacting,” Niall said as he let go of Layla and squared his shoulders, taking rapid breaths.

Ben shifted his eyes back and forth between them. “Is this a prank? I don’t want her to bite me again.”

Niall turned to Layla, eyebrows arched high. “You bit him?”

Layla answered with a shrug.

“What is going on?” Ben asked.

“She’s mad at Y/N and now she doesn’t want me to see Harry.”

Layla smacked his arm the second he finished. “I didn’t say that. I said I’d wait in the car and you dragged me up here.” To Ben, she said, “An old lady saw him pull me into the lift and almost called the police to report domestic abuse.”

Ben looked each of them up and down. “You two are a weird weird weird couple.”

“There you are!”

“Fuck, Harry!” Layla and Niall cursed at the same time when Harry popped up in the doorway out of nowhere.

“Why are you standing here?” he asked.

Ben pointed to Layla, “this one doesn’t want to see your girlfriend–” then Niall “–this one was almost arrested for domestic abuse.”

“Long story,” Niall said with a shrug.

“I’m not going in there and none of you can make me!” Layla folded her arms across her chest and cowered in the corner of the lift. When she saw Harry exchange looks with Niall, she immediately threw herself at the gap between Ben and Harry, but Harry caught her before she could slip out and threw her on his shoulder. She was screaming and kicking, but he didn’t put her down.

“Have a good day, Ben!” Niall said.

“You know what? I wanna watch this,” Ben cackled as he ran after them.

“Put me down, you–you stupid piece of shit! I’ll bite you!”

“If you bite me, I’ll bite you back, Layla. I’m serious.”

The threat froze Layla. Harry did sound serious so she might not want to cross him. He carried her to his room, put her down, and slammed the door in her face. She plunged right at it and slammed it with her fists while fumbling with the handle.

“Open this goddamn door, Harry!”

“It won’t work.”

She whipped around and saw Y/N lying on Harry’s bed, twiddling with his Rubik’s cube. Layla hadn’t seen her since their fight on campus; it’d been a week. They had never gone this long without talking to each other, so it was weird to see Y/N again in this situation.

“Tell your boyfriend to unlock the door,” Layla commanded as she squared her shoulders and lifted her chin.

Y/N dropped the Rubik’s cube on her stomach and finally looked at her. “He locked me here, too, Layla.”

“Sucks to be you. Locked in your own flat,” Layla sarcastically replied as she walked to the chair and flopped down in it. “Now what?”

“Hurry up, girls. We don’t hear apologising!”

“Fuck off, Ben!” Layla shouted at the door.

“What is Ben doing here?”

“No idea.” Layla rolled her eyes as a smile stretched her lips. Y/N was smiling, too.

They sat together in silence for the next fifteen minutes. Layla kept stealing glances at Y/N whenever she felt Y/N staring, but every time she looked, Y/N focused on the Rubik’s cube. She wasn’t actually solving it because she would’ve finished it a long time ago. Layla knew her too well; she just wanted to seem occupied.

“Stop doing that. It’s annoying.”

Layla instantly regretted saying that when Y/N sighed and put the Rubik’s cube down on the nightstand.

“Sorry,” Layla mumbled.

“For what?”

“For saying it was annoying.”

“Oh.” Y/N nodded. “That was a bit annoying, though.”

They both chuckled but didn’t make eye contact.

“So...how’s your presentation?” Layla asked after another moment.

Y/N looked up, batting her eyelashes, but instead of answering, she asked, “H-How’s yours?”

“Fine.” Layla leaned against the chair, staring at her fingers that were drumming on the desk. “I’m actually–” she cleared her throat, not sure why she did it “–I’m actually doing it alone. And I’m fine with that. I’m gonna crush all you bitches.”

“Oh.”

Silence.

“What’s your presentation about?”

“You can’t ask me that, Y/N.”

“I’m not gonna steal your idea,” Y/N giggled. Layla had missed her goofy giggles.

“Tell me yours first,” Layla said.

“Don’t laugh, okay?”

“Okay.”

Y/N shyly tucked a strand behind her ear. “Japanese management techniques.”

“You cheating little bitch,” Layla grinned with her mouth open and gave Y/N’s shoulder a nudge. “Harry’s helping you, isn’t he?”

“Yeah.” Y/N giggled into her palms; it was like she’d contained those giggles for too long and now she couldn’t stop giggling. “He insisted because–”

“He’d done an internship in Japan, yeah, yeah, your intelligent handsome boyfriend,” Layla mocked, and they both laughed together.

“What’s your topic?” Y/N tapped Layla on the knee. Layla didn’t think she was aware of that.

“I haven’t got one.” Layla shrugged. “I might steal yours.”

That was a joke. She didn’t expect Y/N to reply at all. But then Y/N said, “if you want to.”

Layla burst out laughing, but as Y/N didn’t move a muscle in her face, she froze. “Wait, you’re serious?” Y/N nodded once, which made her eyes grow bigger. “Why?”

“Because...I’m not doing it with Portia anymore.”

“You’re not?”

Y/N shook her head so fast her hair bounced. “I’m doing it by myself.”

“That’s dumb.”

“You’re also–”

Layla cut her off quick. “I’m only doing it by myself because I hate everyone and everyone hates me. You’re not me, so do it with Portia, dumbass.”

Y/N was quiet for a moment before she said, “I don’t hate you.”

Layla softened all at once. Y/N reached for her hand and squeezed it, leaving her no choice but to look in Y/N’s eyes.

“I’m sorry,” they said at the same time, froze, and cracked up together.

“Can I go first?” Y/N said between giggles and Layla motioned her to go on. She shifted a bit without moving from her spot on the bed. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I was wrong to not tell you I was doing the assignment with someone else–”

“I shouldn’t have assumed that you were doing it with me.”

“No, you should.” Y/N furrowed her eyebrows. “Because we registered for this class together. We were supposed to do it together.”

Layla stuck up her nose. “Okay, fine. Go on.”

“And I shouldn’t have called you the b-word.”

“Say it.”

“Say what?”

“The b-word,” Layla mocked with a teasing smirk.

“B-Bitch?” Y/N said alarmedly, making Layla guffaw as she tossed her head back, one hand over her eyes.

“Now I see why Harry keeps forcing you to curse. You are hilarious.” Layla patted her friend’s cheek, and Y/N brushed her hand off, blushing.

“Your turn.”

“Sure.” Layla crossed her legs as she slipped her hand out of Y/N’s fingers to lace her own fingers together on her knee. “I’m sorry that I’m controlling.”

“You aren’t.”

“Shut up. I am,” Layla snorted. “See? Controlling.”

“Okay, controlling,” Y/N agreed. “What’s next?”

“I’ve never had a girl best friend before you.” Layla dropped her gaze to her hands, unable to make eye contact when she said sentimental things. “I guess...I guess I was jealous...and a bit hurt that you could just replace me with anyone and I–Well, I only have you.”

“Aww, Layla.”

“Don’t.”

“Sorry. Come here.” Y/N spread her arms but Layla swatted one of her hands away.

“I’m not gonna cuddle you in your boyfriend’s bed.”

“It’s only a hug,” Y/N said, still keeping her arms open. “Come on. I don’t usually give hugs. You can’t deny me, Layla.”

“You’re so fucking weird,” Layla said. Still, she scooted the chair closer so Y/N could close her arms around her. Though her hands remained on her knee, Layla closed her eyes and relaxed into the hug.

“I really missed you,” she heard Y/N say.

“I missed you, too,” she said back, grinning wide.

They ended up doing the presentation together. Harry told them he was offended that they didn’t need his help anymore, but he was happy that they’d made up. They got an A for the assignment, and Y/N suggested they celebrate it with pumpkin lattes and hamburgers. Layla hadn’t eaten fast food again since she'd been nominated for Prom Queen. But for Y/N, she called it a cheat day and ordered a turkey burger with extra chilli sauce. They blasted music and ate her car.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Y/N said with her mouth full as she used her free hand to fish something out of her bag. “For you.”

“A friendship bracelet?” Layla was taken aback, holding the burger to her mouth like her hand was stuck in that position. It wasn’t just a friendship bracelet. It was hot pink. Layla couldn’t come up with any outfit that could go with hot pink.

Y/N giggled. “I was babysitting the other day and the kid taught me to make this.”

“It’s ugly.”

“I know right?” Y/N shoved the last piece of the burger into her mouth and rolled up her left sleeve. She was wearing one, too. It was bright purple. “I gave you the less ugly one. You’re welcome.”

“Wow, I’m sobbing,” Layla said with a straight face as she offered her hand. Y/N happily put it on for her.

“There you go. Our first ugly friendship bracelets.”

Layla didn’t comment, but seeing how giggly Y/N was made it impossible to hold back a smile. She turned the music up and started bobbing her head while Y/N tapped her feet and sipped her pumpkin latte. Layla intentionally put her left hand closer to Y/N’s so she could see how the bracelets looked together.

Hideous. Their colours didn’t even match. But she loved that awful composition. Just like her and Y/N.

#flatmate!harry #flatmate blurbs

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