Silent Laughter (Louis Tomlinson Fan-Fic) Book 3

Part twenty-three

Louis’ POV

 

From: Winnie :)

 

You seriously miss that?

I sit myself down in one of the couches, Niall still napping in the bed on the other side of the room. My body slumps itself into the cushions, trying to get more comfortable.

 

To: Winnie :)

 

Of course. It’s super sick.

 

The boys and I arrived back at the hotel about two hours ago after rehearsal at the stadium. Niall decided to nap, Liam and Harry are god knows where, and Zayn went to get some weed from one of the hotel employees I think.

 

I don’t even fucking know.

 

I’ve just been here texting Winnie about everything and nothing all at the same time.

 

My phone lights up again in my hold and I feel myself smile a bit like the whipped fucker I am.

 

From: Winnie :)

 

It’s just a hoodie.

I wish there was some handbook for people that like someone but haven’t liked someone in a long time. One that would guide the reader, tell them what to do and what doors to open without opening too many at a time. One that would be titled something like ‘For Louis Tomlinson, the screwed fucker who really likes this chick that isn’t just some chick.’. But also that title would be too lengthy and I really need to just grow some balls and ask this girl out on a date already.

 

But damn, Winnie is also the most fantastic yet complicated person someone could fucking like and I like her. Fuck, I practically told her that I’m falling in love with her and I can sense similar feelings from her, but I also don’t know what’s going on in her head. She’s like one of those rubiks cubes that doesn’t come with any instructions and I don’t know if she’s only still talking to me because she likes being my friend and hopes I’ll get over all of this shit or if she just sincerely likes me too.

 

I’m twenty-four years old, not fucking fourteen, so why am I acting this over dramatic over this girl that I’ve only known for five months?

 

To: Winnie :)

 

No. It’s a super comfortable black hoodie that pretty much tells people to fuck off. It’s a real treasure, Winifred.

 

I press send before stuffing my hand into the pocket of my shorts and pulling out my headphones.