ILTHY | l.p.

14 | two idiots (not) in love

CHAPTER 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍
❛ 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝗼𝗻𝗹𝘆 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄𝘀 𝗯𝗿𝗼𝗸𝗲𝗻 𝗲𝗻𝗱𝘀 𝘆𝗲𝗮𝗵,
𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁'𝘀 𝘄𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘀𝗮𝗶𝗱, 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗴𝗶𝗿𝗹, 𝗹𝗲𝘁 𝗺𝗲 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗴𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗱.  ❜
▃▃▃▃▃

[ y/n ]

The next day comes in the nth time of questioning my ability in decision-making. I sit across from Louis, my chin on my hand, staring and envying how long his lashes are while I struggle with mine.

"Do you fancy me?"

I think that question was enough to stress the rest of my short lashes off. "Excuse me?" I ask, almost sounding offended.

Louis looked over to me, his dark eyes twinkling. "You keep staring."

I scoffed.

"I have ladies of all ages fawning over me, and yet here you are, blessed in my presence, but won't admit how much you appreciate my existence." He exhaled slowly while leaning back, never losing eye contact. Narcissistic much?

"I am going to pretend I never heard that." I respond back and lean forward to reach for the paper. "And for the sake of our agreement, I will also pretend you don't need therapy for your narcissistic personality order."

"Ouch."

I ignored him and read the lyrics he just made with the help of me, of course.

All I knew
This morning when I woke
Is I know something now
Know something now I didn't before

And all I've seen
Since eighteen hours ago
Is green eyes and freckles and your smile
In the back of my mind making me feel like...

"None of us have green eyes," I say with a frown and look back up at him. Louis shrugged and sipped on his coffee.

"We can change it, I think."

"Where did the green even come from?"

I followed his eyes, which narrowed on something. It was my matcha drink. Suddenly feeling conscious, I reach for my order and drink as well. I heard a chuckle and ruffling of things.

"If you were in love, what would you say to that person?" Louis asked so suddenly.

I answered without any hesitation. "Easy. I love you."

His eyes twinkled once more. Maybe it was the light reflecting? I wasn't sure. There is something I couldn't point out at all. His cheeks also dusted a bit pink, but it could be the cold. I could spend hours trying to find the right words to use to describe how Louis' face lit up, and none of those words would actually matter because this man in front of me in his old t-shirt and ripped jeans was...

Was what?

My words are gone.

"You say I love you way too easily," Louis suddenly says, now spinning his pen between fingers. I'll pretend for a moment that I didn't notice how he struggled and how the pen kept falling off. He was trying to be cool, and how did he even suck at it? This man is literally friends with Millie Bobby Brown.

"You asked." I defended myself with a roll of my eyes. "Obviously, you have to tell someone you love that you love them."

"What if it's forbidden?"

I snort. "What is this? Romeo and Juliet?"

"He's married." Louis added, trying to make his words clearer.

"Why would you fall in love with a married guy? That's bitchy and not in a good way."

"He loves someone else."

My brows furrowed, and I clicked on my tongue. "You can give him a choice."

"Ah, so you're still a risk taker." Louis smirked and sipped on his coffee again. "Typical Y/n. You're going to get yourself hurt."

I have flashbacks of all the men I've been involved and betrayed with, and my heart did crack a bit from the bitter memories. My head also did hurt a little from how embarrassing everything was. I did charity way too much and still got cheated on in the end. I mean, how could they want me first but still fuck me up in the end?

"I thought we had an agreement you wouldn't be such an asshole?" I frowned. He let out a heavy breath and a look that called me boring. He shifted on his seat again to make himself extra comfortable. The table space was small and Louis is a pretty tall guy, I could imagine how uncomfy this whole thing must be for him.

Good. I picked the right cafe.

I returned the paper back to him after encircling the other words I do not approve of. I watched as he hummed while reviewing it all over again. "It feels bland," Louis says, "there's something missing, it seems. I can't quite figure it out but these lyrics don't hit home."

"It's a love song, dingus. And you're not in love. It'll obviously be written wrong." I argue.

"Fine. You try to write. See if you do any better." Louis huffed and nudged the paper back towards me. I pushed it back to him.

"I'm not in love either."

"You?" Louis makes a funny face. "You're always in love."

"Excuse me?"

"You're in love with glitter, for example." Louis cuts me off, a small smirk decorating his annoyingly perfect face. "With that grass drink you always order, With butterflies. With the color purple. With men that look pitiful."

His last sentence took me out. But I wasn't angry or offended, even if I tried to be. I couldn't stop the laugh I had to let out. "So you keep track of my ex-boyfriends? Is that what you're saying? "

"They stand out in crowds, Y/N. They look like trolls who ask riddles before letting you pass the bridge."

My brows furrowed and my lips closed, taking mild offense that he would think I have such bad tastes. I hate to admit he was right.

"Can we not talk about my exes? "I mumbled, reaching over for my drink once more.

"I love you," Louis suddenly says, then slowly nods, tapping the pen on the table. "Or I'm falling in love with you. Which stage is our song about? "

I looked up, briefly thinking, then looked down towards the paper again. "Which is easier? "

"Both are fucking complicated, Y/n."

"Woah!" I chuckle. "Obviously someone isn't the loverboy everyone thinks he is."

Louis chuckled deeply. "So we're both not in love at the moment."

"That is correct."

"But it can also mean we can fall in love."

"Fine." I huffed and leaned closer across the table in annoyance. "Do you suggest we actually go find love in less than two days to actually write a song that is literally due in two weeks? "

"What I am suggesting," Louis cleared his throat and leaned forward as well, face to face with me, "is that we get the hell out of here."

My brows furrowed, staring deep into his dark orbs. I have no clue what he is on about, and it made me doubt if this song will actually be done on time. It scared me.

Louis folded the paper, slipped it in my tote bag with the pen, and scooted himself from the leather couch to stand up and stretch his long limbs. He let out a breath of relief and looked down at me.

"You coming? "

"This better work." I muttered and grabbed my bag, standing up as well as the chair screeches on the floor.

▃▃▃▃▃