ILTHY | l.p.

11 | frosty walk

CHAPTER ELEVEN
❛ 𝘄𝗶𝘀𝗵 𝗶𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝘀𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗹𝗲, 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗼𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲
𝘀𝗶𝗱𝗲 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗺𝗲 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂'𝗿𝗲 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗮 𝗿𝗶𝗱𝗱𝗹𝗲. ❜
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[ y/n ]

"I'll walk you home."

"No, it's fine."

"Please, I insist."

"I'm only three blocks away."

But while I was speaking, Louis had already reached for his coat and put it on. I huffed my cheeks and sighed. He's so...

Ugh.

"We've argued long enough, so I think it's time for us to agree on one thing, and that is me walking you home," Louis said, and his tone was more of a declaration than a request. I hated it, but I think he's got a point.

"Fine." I stood up, also taking my coat and scarf. I have nothing to lose anyway. Except maybe for three years in my life.

Louis didn't reply, but he did wait for me to gather my things and opened the front door for me when we left outside. There's a weird fuzzy feeling deep in my chest, but I think it's from the cold. Louis does look extra adorable with his red ears and nose, though. Then I remembered how sensitive he really is to extreme weather, and yet he still offered—no, demanded—to walk me home.

"We didn't have much work done today," I mumble while walking, stuffing my frozen fingertips inside my coat's pocket. After all the arguments and exchanged glares, all he's really done is furiously draw scribbles and me finish all the cookies. I guess some things never really change.

He didn't reply, so I assumed he was ignoring me, but then I suddenly heard a snort, and I looked up, only to find Louis laughing. "We're terrible!"

I unconsciously smile in agreement, then look back in front. We are both really horrible together. He laughed until I couldn't help but laugh with him.

ⵌ

We've reached the steps of the door, which I've known too well. My home, I mean. Huh, door is such a funny word to me now.

"Thanks for the free cookies and walking me home, Louis," I say with a small smile that feels genuine, looking up at his towering figure. "But next time, let's not work together alone. We'll work with Mille. We need this song finished as soon as possible."

I expected Louis to agree, and I took the first two steps on the stairs.

"No," Louis says, all soft and gentle. "We work alone."

I whip my head back to look at him in disbelief. "We won't finish a thing if it's just the two of us."

Louis licked his lip, shivering slightly from the cold, and shrugged. His shoulder was tense, and I could tell it's from how freezing he was. But why isn't he leaving? Why is he still standing on my front porch, staring at me with those dark brown eyes and a look I can't explain?

"I want to finish this with you, Y/n. And we will finish it." He smiled. "Besides, I owe you a lot. And I promised."

I close my lips in a line, leaning against the column, and sigh. Is this his way of apologizing? He could have really just said, 'I'm sorry', but of course he wouldn't, right?

But he did put in an effort.

Is it enough, though?

Oh whatever. I'm easy, so what?

"Fine." I nod, trying to look stern. "But you have to stop being an asshole. Once you slip, I'm out."

Louis smiled. "No second chances?"

"Hey. Take me seriously here." I glare.

"Alright! No asshole things." He laughed, then rubbed his cold hands together, trying to warm himself up. My heart softened a little, feeling pity for him. It took a little debate in my head before I gave in and removed my red scarf.

"Come here," I told him.

Louis skeptically walked closer, standing on the first step, making me a bit taller than him. Slowly, I wrap the scarf around his neck, securing it around him without looking at his eyes. I didn't need to look to know he was staring.

"Your eyes..." Louis whispered. "It's a different shade."

I finally looked into his dark orbs. "It's just a boring color, Louis."

"No. It brightens when you're happy or excited, and it's dark when you're sad or angry. You might not know it, but your eyes are my favorite shade."

My breath hitched.

How will I ever know that?

"Get home safely, Louis."

"Uh, yeah." Louis stepped away, creating a huge distance between us, his hand wrapping around the edge of my scarf. "Thanks for this, Y/n. And for today."

I couldn't really stop him, even if I wanted to. Louis walked away too quickly, too easily, after saying that my eyes were his favorite shade. He meant them; I know he did from the way he said it, but it seems like he doesn't want to mean it.

I can't figure him out.

What is Louis Partridge?

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