ℰ𝒾ℊ𝒽𝓉ℯℯ𝓃

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LOUIS' POVLouis grunts as the sun shines on his face

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LOUIS' POV
Louis grunts as the sun shines on his face. He reaches for his phone on the bedside table and turns off the alarm filling the once quiet room. He turns on his back and stares at the ceiling.

A soft smile creeps on his face as he realises. Today is the day. Louis is going on a date in a few hours. The butterflies and anxiety make his stomach twist. What the fuck is he going to do to impress a world-famous superstar?

He begrudgingly gets off the bed and drags his feet to the bathroom, phone in hand. Louis puts on some of Harry's songs as he showers.

Fuck. His voice is like magic.

The wheels are turning in Louis' head as he showers. He makes a plan. This date has to be PERFECT.

A little while later, the man is staring at his wardrobe in nothing but his towel. Who knew finding an outfit could be so hard? Louis certainly never cared about clothes that much. He's usually in whatever is the most comfortable.

Louis gets dressed in a simple pair of jeans, a soft jumper, and a denim jacket. He sits in front of the mirror for what feels like hours (it was 20 minutes. Okay, maybe closer to 30).

The alarm he set on his phone the night before goes off. 11:30. Louis puts on his jacket and shoes. He grabs his phone, wallet, and keys and leaves the house. He can't be late. Not today. Not for this.

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