Make Me Beg [l.s - edited version]

eighteen

Louis' POV:

Liam and Zayn both wish me good luck on my date with two quick hugs before Zayn smacks my ass as his parting gift and I'm out the door.

I put the address Harry sent me earlier today into the GPS and begin driving to the destination he still has yet to disclose. However, he said the date wasn't a super formal thing (Liam must have relayed the information that I'm not often one for candlelit dinners) and said that I shouldn't feel obligated to dress up in fancy attire for the occasion.

But of course, I spent a solid large portion of the morning trying to pick out clothes that screamed 'I look effortlessly fashionable, despite the fact that I spent two hours choosing this outfit'. After going between three outfits and getting Liam's opinion on all of them, I settled on a semi-casual look. I'm currently wearing a pair of slim grey joggers with a black and white stripe down the side, a white undershirt, and an oversized Polari sweatshirt on top.

And, of course, Zayn helped me with my hair to make it look disheveled, 'but like, in a hot way that would make him want to take you home the second he lays eyes on you, and then take you on thirty more dates after this one', as Zayn put it.

He added a 'maybe you'll finally get a good lay with a decent guy, because I swear your virginity grew back since the last time you had a fuck' after his little pep talk and words of encouragement (if you will), but that just earned him a friendly punch on the arm.

Because, no, I'm not going on this date to get laid - I'm going on this date because an insanely cute and nice guy asked me out and I'd just about be the stupidest person to roam the earth if I had rejected such an offer. Just to clear things up.

Back to my date preparations, I find it ironic that Zayn dedicated so much time to my hair because as I look in my car mirror, it looks like I just rolled out of bed. I smile to myself as I drive down the street, happy that I still look and feel like myself, and not some fake poser with greased back hair and some crazy outfit that I would never be caught dead wearing.

Harry hasn't specified much about what we're doing or where we're going today, now that I think about it. He simply sent me a 'trust me x.' text message and an address this morning, and let my imagination run wild.

The GPS navigates me through the streets of London and I end up parked in front of a Greek restaurant. At second glance, it's the restaurant that I always tell Liam and Zayn we should eat out at some point, but never seem to have time to do so. So yeah, I'm even more excited than moments ago (it's hard to believe that's even possible, but it is) and clearly, Liam helped Harry pick out a place that I would like, which is so sweet of Harry to ask and Liam to share.

I park the car and pay the meter with some pocket money I found inside of my car's glove compartment. Looking around, I don't see Harry's black SUV parked along the curb, so I stand outside of the front door and pull out my phone.

As if on cue, Harry texts me the second I turn on my phone, which currently has a rather embarrassing picture of Zayn passed out on our sofa set as my lock screen in a pink wig and matching pink outfit (don't even ask how it happened, because I'm not quite sure myself) that I find utterly hilarious.

Harry: hi lou

Me: hi! I just got here

Harry: yay!

Harry: you look really cute

My head snaps up and scans the line of parked cars across the side of the road, but there's not one single black SUV to be seen. Nor my curly-headed and green-eyed date.

Me: are you here?

Harry: yeah, i'm in the car. only got here a few minutes ago and i'm just listening to a George Harrison cd at the moment