"𝗜 𝗰𝗮𝗻'𝘁 𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗽 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗮𝗯𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂, 𝗝𝘂𝗹𝗶𝗲𝘁𝘁𝗲." he said softly, almost a whisper. He ran his thumb along my bottom lip, moving his hand to my chin, tilting my head up so I would be in his gaze. His hand softly ran down...
A/N: hey its me, the annoying author note before nearly every chapter but i just wanted to say, thank you all so much for your comments, it's my favourite thing to see in the morning when i wake up and see you guys interacting. i try to reply to all of them but i do get busy with other things but do know that i read all of them <33 !!!! okay enjoy, teehee - love daisy
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I placed the coffee cup in front of Louis, who had taken off his coat and draped it on the side of the sofa. I had went back to my phone and told Joost it was just Louis and after sitting through a fifteen-minute rant about how I couldn't scare him like that, we exchanged our 'I love yous' and 'goodbyes.' I sat down on the edge of the lounge, crossing my legs. "Why did you come here again?" I asked, still confused by the situation.
"Saw that video of you hiding in a bathroom." he said bluntly, taking a sip of the coffee I had made him. "Okay, when you put it like that, it sounds terrible." I said with a sigh, running a hand through my hair. "You really need to work on being less creepy, though." I added, trying not to laugh.
"Why?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "Louis, you literally entered my house in the middle of the night without contacting me first," I said, watching as he bit his lip, thinking to himself.
"I'll work on that." he said, attempting to lighten the mood. I exhaled deeply, bringing my knees to my chest. "Can I ask you something?" I said, resting my head on my knees, watching Louis.
"Yeah, what's up?" he asked, placing his cup down. "Did Joost mention where he was staying before he left?" I asked, observing as Louis leaned back into the couch, sighing.
"I think so. Why?" he answered, glancing up at me, his brows furrowing slightly. "Just curious." I said softly, standing up and walking over to the kitchen junk drawer to grab a notebook and pen. "Can you write it down for me?" I asked, placing the items in front of him.
"Um, okay." he muttered, scribbling it down on the notepad. "Is everything like, okay?" he asked, raising an eyebrow as he handed it back to me. "Yes, I promise." I said softly, tearing off the piece of paper and slipping it into my pocket.
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I stood in the slowly moving line at the airport, clutching my carry-on bag tightly to my chest. My eyes wandered to the large windows, where I watched the workers busily preparing the airplane. Nervously, I bit at the skin around my fingers, tapping my foot in a restless rhythm. The urgency within me was overwhelming—I needed to see him. I needed to see Joost. I needed to clear my thoughts, to pour out everything that had been weighing on my mind: my concerns, my fears, my dreams.
