Summary:
Louis is definitely fine and Lottie is definitely crushing on her French teacher, and these two things have nothing to do with each other. Except they do. And Louis is not fine.
Notes:For .
Well, I hope this wasn't a total disappointment? I tried my best but my weird, angsty ass just couldn't listen to directions. I apologize if this was The Worst.
For the prompt about Harry being the French teacher. You know the one :)
Nothing in this is based off of real life. Everything's made up--even the ages and names of some. Things are more fun in fiction.
(See the end of the work for .)
Work Text:
Louis Tomlinson enjoys a good movie, sure. He does. He's not even opposed to watching it more than once. Hell, he'll even watch it three times, if it's good enough; he's generous.
But for Christ's sake. Moulin Rouge is just not good enough to warrant seven goddamn views in four days.
"LOTTIE," he bellows from the shower, after the fourth consecutive rewind of 'Lady Marmalade', "CAN YOU GIVE IT A REST? Goddamn. Don't you have headphones or...some shit?"
Even amidst the billowing steam and deafening stream of the showerhead, he can still practically hear his sister's teeth bare into a snarl—one Louis is well acquainted with himself; they are oh-so-very related.
"Piss off!" she shouts, as any doting sister would, and Louis just sighs through the suds of his shitty bar soap that smells like warm plastic.
Why, oh why, did he ever choose to move back home after living The Good Life™ in London? (Oh, wait. Maybe it's cuz he actually began to sort of hate that life and, consequently, broke up with Zayn after, erm, four years, was it? Oh yes, that's why*.)
*Details.
But whatever, he's patient, and he's promised to be Mr. Mom to his six (six. six) younger siblings, now that Will's fuckered off and left his mum alone. Because, yeah, that's also a thing—much like Louis, his mother has also undergone some life changes in the past year, her life has also been upended. And that's what made it so easy to come back here, honestly.
It's almost nice that Louis and her are both newly-single, in a sick and twisted way. Kinda nice, keeping each other afloat, developing a sort of camaraderie that feels like a friendship. Leaning on each other for the little tedious shit that somehow feels even more tedious these days. Making awkward breakup jokes that are most likely too soon (but their family never really had any tact anyway, so it doesn't matter in the slightest to either of them). It's that sorta vibe. Free and callous and bitter and a little secretly lost. A lot rebelliously independent. It's kinda like a Bachelor Pad, except it's not. At all.
Anyway. Louis is patient. He can deal with his seventeen year-old sister's obsessions, whatever. At least it's better than fourteen-year-old Louis' strange fascination with Cats! the musical. There was a solid 365 days there, where he smoked copious amounts of weed, painted whiskers on his cheeks with his baby sisters' bubblegum eyeliner, and crooned 'Memory' in the dark whenever he was suffering from one of his many [frivolous] teen breakups. Actually, come to think of it, that might've also been the year he dabbled in hallucinogenics for the first time...
Aaaanyway. Yes. Lottie is definitely manageable.
So he just clambers to his room, a white cotton towel wrapped around his waist that does nothing to collect the drips that pour from his soggy hair, and begins to get dressed in Day Off clothes (a rare occurrence) because the day is young, he's got shit-all to do, and time doesn't stop. Hm. Maybe he should listen to 'Time' by Pink Floyd. Maybe that would be some kind of symbolic gesture of how his life is continuing. Maybe it would enlighten him to New Beginnings and Serenity despite the fact that he's in his mid-twenties and living at home. Or! Maybe he'll stop having an overly dramatic inner monologue that prompts him to have existential crises every five goddamn minutes, and maybe he'll just get dressed and go downstairs and grab some lunch. Maybe.
