" Louis,
I Don't appreciate being used nor do I fancy the idea of being someones call boy. Unfortunately, none of that seems to matter in retrospect; I would be your bitch if you were to ask. I've heard of a thing called making yourself "too" available and I reckon that is what I've done, made the chase all to easy. Even as I sit here writing I sense the neediness in my tone and what this letter is projecting so let me clarify some of the points I am trying to get across.
One: I don't really need you Louis and as harsh as that sounds it's the truth. I was fine before you stumbled upon The Parlour and lounged in my chair. However, I do want you. Simply stated I guess but still I feel it lacks the emphasis I intend it to have.
Two: Being who you really are is difficult; in fact I never was this confident before I realized I needed to stop pleasing others an start to think of my own wants and needs. I was a shy kid who basically hid in the closet, hell I was so far in the closet I stumbled upon Narnia. Everything was perfect on the outside, I've always been a great actor, I was off to University. Majoring in whatever high paying job I found on a list which I think was called " How to Despise the Adult You Have become", i could be mistaken the name might have slipped my mind. Anyway, the point is it was as if someone had flipped a switch and I wanted, no I NEEDED, to become myself. I'm not suggesting you come out if you're not ready, I'm suggesting that you should come out if you're ready but you're afraid other people aren't.
Three: Don't let this letter persuade you into thinking I'm an ass, the truth is I'm just straight forward and i tend to keep it that way.
That's it, that's all the points I could come up with as I sat here. The only thing I can think to tell you now is that I enjoy you, your company... your Presence. If you find that you've changed your mind about me and you just know I'm here waiting, but not forever Louis, Even life itself has it's expiration date.
All My Love, H."
YOU ARE READING
The Parlour {LS//AU}
FanfictionOn a street in London hidden between two tall buildings sat a tattoo shop. 'The Parlour' was written in lights bringing in passer byers from the autumn air. In the back of the shop sits a tall boy with long curly hair and emerald green eyes; a boy w...
