I was interrupted by someone carelessly walking by, almost hitting me in the face with a black and white Van's backpack.
"it's impolite to stare", he said when he was already a step behind the table I was sitting at, leaving me with an open mouth.
...
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watch out for this happening later ^
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-H-
Less than an hour later, I was sitting in a lounge on the fifth floor – that I now knew was reserved for royalty. Niall and I had been lucky that nobody had seen us on our little trip. I was wearing a black suit that Eleanor had given me, and although feeling better styled than I ever had before (Not even on the day of my graduation when my mum bought me an entire new outfit, I looked this fit) and yet I felt not the tiniest bit ready to meet the prince.
First of all, nobody had seen him for years.
Secondly, I was going to be his boyfriend. At least fake-boyfriend.
And thirdly, Eleanor had told me he was good looking. Even one more reason to feel like pissing my pants. What if he didn't want me? If he would see me and then order Eleanor to go find someone else? Or what if he –
The door on the other side of the room was opened from the outside. This was it; this was me meeting the prince. I felt about to have an outbreak of sweat or throw up – maybe both.
The maybe first thing I realised about him was that he was wearing Vans.
Vans that seemed way too familiar.
I think the moment I looked up into his face, I stopped breathing. And so did he, freezing in the middle of his movements when his eyes fell on me.
Well, Eleanor was definitely right when saying that Prince Louis looked fine. Immaculate, even. Pristine. Perfect. All of that.
"Styles", he greeted me, his voice neutral but commanding and deep. I had stood up when he entered but now, I regretted it, I felt like I couldn't trust my knees.
That was the moment it clicked in my head. That was the moment when the loose pieces of information in my head suddenly fell together like a puzzle.
He was the prince.
---
So... the prince was my fake boyfriend now. I was just changing into my footie jersey on the bench in the changing rooms, checking my phone for one last time but there still wasn't a new message. I stuffed it back into my locker. I had wanted to talk to my mum, and it worried me that she didn't answer for the whole day.
"You coming?", Niall yelled from the door, whereupon I quickly scanned the room for William... or Louis, more like. Yesterday, we hadn't really done than anything other than awkwardly shaking hands on being 'boyfriends' from now on (No, he hadn't called Eleanor to tell her that he wanted her to go fine someone else, thank god).
