Falling In Love (L.S)

Chapter 1

Louis can't seem to make his leg stop jumping up and down—it's like his thigh has a mind of its own. The thing is, Louis likes to fidget when he gets nervous. The first time he realized he was the type to fidget, when he gets nervous, is when he six years old and was terrified to be starting in his first ever footie game. He would stop wiggling and biting on his nails—drove his mum crazy.

Louis is currently feeling that same nervous pull flood his body. It feels as if his body has too much energy drumming within him to the point he wants to jump out of his own skin, almost. It leads to him shaking his leg up and down—he couldn't stop it if he tried.

"He'll see you now." The phrase makes Louis quickly sit up in his seat—leg ceasing on its own. The secretary, who is in front of him, has a kind smile that reaches her brown eyes. Her black hair is pulled into a bun and she walks right back to her black chair after speaking.

Louis takes a deep breath to calm his nerves but even still, he can feel his palms practically sweating—which, eww. Almost as if sensing his discomfort, the secretary tries to give him the same gentle smile, as before, to help ease his tension but it's not working. Louis still feels like a mess.

You see, Louis has never had a job before. He's eighteen years old and is fresh out of high school. He wanted to go straight to college, at first, but decided getting some work experience on his resume is the best option—that and because he wants to make some money first. Then he'll go to college—right after he figures out what he wants to study.

Louis is lucky about all of this because his mum had been extremely supportive upon hearing the news of him taking a gap year. Louis is more than convinced she's only glad of the gap because it means she gets to use Louis for another year of free babysitting his numerous siblings. But the facts still remain the same—Louis has no experience, and he feels like shitting bricks at the thought of being an actual adult with an adult like job.

The elevator, to his left, dinging is what brings Louis back to reality; leading him to shaking his head. Trying desperately, and failing, to shake away his thoughts, doubts, and fears. He gives the lady one last grimace before walking to the large door on the right; the dramatic side of him feels like this is a walk of doom, but the more realistic side of him tells him to suck it up and enter—so he does.

The first thing Louis notices is how big everything is; from the massive white chairs facing the oak desk to the large paintings covering all the walls. Hell, even the flat screen television hanging from the left corner of the room is fairly large—and oh. Those hands on the desk are definitely big, and manly, and they seem to belong to a body. A built body with toned biceps that show through the short sleeved blue button up shirt. The same hands that appear to be attached to green eyes, red lips, and curly hair.

Fuck. Is the only word consuming Louis' thoughts at the moment because Mr. Styles, the boss, is so fucking hot; definitely Louis' type and the poor boy just isn't prepared. This man should come with a warning or something, for goodness sake. There should be a caution sign on the door that reads: ENTER AT OWN RISK: HOT GUY INSIDE.

"Thought you got lost for a moment." The deep voice says with a chuckle, there's a smirk on the man's face revealing two dimples. Louis feels like whimpering because there should not be dimples. "Please take a seat." Mr. Styles continues while gesturing to one of the white chairs in front of his desk.

Louis makes a sound in the back of his throat that vaguely resembles a grunt as he tries not to blush too hard while making his way to the right chair. The chair is soft, smooth, and practically swallows his tiny frame as he sits in it. Louis sighs heavily. Mr. Styles is just so attractive is the thing, and Louis is not blind.