𝐎𝐑𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐂 𝐀𝐂𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐘 ☾ 𝐥. 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐠𝐞

𝐱𝐱𝐢𝐢.

wrong

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I AM GOING ON A DATE WITH TIMOTHÉE CHALAMET. We've been friends ever since we were little. Our parents loved each other, which in return, made us love each other as well. The only thing is, for the past two weeks, I've been trying to convince myself that I love Timothée, but the thing is, I don't love him in that way. I don't love him the way I love Louis.

I thought that love was stupid, and fake, and something that people said when they like someone more than the usual amount, but I don't know. It seems like it's a lot more than that. And I know that what I'm saying is cheesy and gross— I hate it too.

But the way it felt when Louis kissed me in the garden, like the whole world stopped and everything and everyone disappeared, or when we were watching the stars and it felt like I could stay there with him forever, or when we were fighting that dragon, I didn't care about risking my life for him. I would risk my life for him in a heart beat. I don't know if that's love, or if I'll ever actually feel it, but I think what I had with Louis is the closest I'll ever get.

So now, here I am, walking out into the girls' dormitory hallway, on my way to meet Timothée for a date, trying to suppress my feelings for Louis, and maybe by some magical miracle, I could find myself liking Timothée in the way he likes me. Louis and I are never getting back together. Well, we were never together in the first place. Maybe that's where I went wrong.

I should've lied and told him that I was ready to be in a relationship. I should've fought my fears and knew that Louis was better than that, but in the end, was he really? He still kissed another girl, he didn't fight for me, he didn't try for me. As much as I like him, I need to suppress these feelings, and start liking Timothée.

I walked into the hallway, closing the door behind me as I began my trek to the foyer to meet Timmy. My stomach felt like it was launched into my throat. I'm not usually nervous of dates, but this one felt different. It felt like an act. An act of pretending to like him, and I know that sounds bad, but if I act hard enough, maybe it'll convince me that it's real.

My head was down, watching my white beat up tennis shoes walk through the silent hallway. Suddenly, the sound of footsteps could be heard on the other side, getting closer and closer with every second. I looked up and my eyes met his.

Louis Partridge.

He stopped. I stopped. Time stopped.

We were the only ones standing in this endless hallway. He looked nice. He wore a black knit sweater, dark blue carpenter jeans, and his famous silver necklace.

I don't know what I wanted to do. I guess I wanted to hug him. I wanted to run through the long hallway, and jump into his arms. I wanted to tell him that I was sorry for being so cold and that I forgive him. That all I want is him. That if I was going on a date with anyone, I wanted it to be him.