𝗳𝗮𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗶𝘁 ✰❤︎ 𝗹𝗼𝘂𝗶𝘀 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗿𝗶𝗱𝗴𝗲 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

| 12 |

Chapter Twelve

~

Louis POV

Well today wasn't exactly the best day. I didn't really expect to be ratted out by y/n's friend in front of her.
But honestly, after hearing what I did the way he phrased it, I feel disgusted with myself.

I mean he's right.

I kissed a girl without consent.

And then basically forced her to date me.

So in other words: I'm a literal predator.

And now walking through the door after a long seven hours of school, all I wanna do is go to sleep and never wake up.

"Hey Louis," I hear Millie say from the kitchen. She was peeling an orange until there was no more white stuff on it. It usually means she's making me one, since she knows how much I hate that white part of it.

"I made you two cuties for when you got home," she grabs the two small oranges and sets them on the opposite end of the counter as I walk up.

"Thanks," I try to give her a little smile as I drop my heavy backpack from my shoulder.

"Uh oh," Millie's expression changes, "what's wrong?"

I'm not gonna lie, sometimes the fact that Millie knows exactly when something is up can get annoying.

I shrug and start taking a few steps back from the counter.
"I just had a bad day. I don't really wanna talk about it."

Thankfully, she let me go without creating a fuss.
"That's alright. But at least take the cuties and actually eat them."

I lightly chuckle under my breath and walk back over, grabbing them from the counter and then turning around.
"Thanks."

She calls back "your welcome," and yet even though I can't see her face, the skeptical tone in her voice is enough to know she's suspecting something.

I walk to my bedroom, shut the door behind me, and flop straight onto my bed.

What if Finn's right?

What if I'm genuinely pressuring her and she feels like she has to do this?

Ugh. My life was already a hot mess after Clara left but now?

Now it's indescribable.

I pick my face up from the pillows and reach for my phone, which had been sitting in my pocket.

First thing I open: Spotify

Music is my escape. I don't know if it's just me, considering everyone else in the grade goes to parties and does drugs to feel better; but this is how I help myself.

I don't have a lot of playlists. Just around five.

A happy one.

A sad one.

One for parties.

One for car drives.