48 Hours // l.t. [1]

Chapter 7

When someone tapped me on the shoulder, I gasped and jumped a little in my seat. My hand flew to my mouth in surprise and waited till my heart stopped pounding to look at the person next to me. It was a girl around my age with sun-blonde hair, a round face and bright smile. She had a blanket in her lap and was wearing a tie-dye shirt.

"Hi," she chirped, either not caring she startled me or was completely oblivious. 

"Hi," I bit my lip, unsure of what this girl wanted from me.

"So, I saw that Louis was sitting with you and I was wondering what he was like? You're so lucky to have sat next to him, gosh," the girl rambled on for a couple minutes, more about Louis Tomlinson, but I wasn't even listening.

My heart dropped a little in disappointment. Were people that curious about someone as famous as he? He was just riding the bus, getting to know other people. He wasn't that much different from me or any other person on the bus--obviously besides the fact that he was ten times more famous than anyone riding the Greyhound bus.

I shrugged, answering when she finally took a moment to breathe. "I don't know, we didn't talk much. He's just like any other guy."

Subtly, I frowned and gave her a side look, something that's supposed to end the conversation there, but this girl was really oblivious, even to the edginess in my voice. I pursed my lips, half-listening to what she was saying. Something about Louis' bands' new album and how wonderful they sounded.

"I wouldn't know," I said the moment the girl took a moment to breathe--she talked a lot. At my words, she turned her whole body to face me, a shocked expression on her face. I quickly said, "I mean, I've never been that interested in their music or even had the time to listen to it. The stuff I listen to is a bit more... Out of their range."

Which was true. I didn't listen to the top hits station; I managed to steer clear of it while I played my favorite station that played early 2000 rock songs.

"You have to listen to this song," the girl dug out her phone, plugging in the ear buds. She flicked through it for a moment before handing the ear buds to me. "I won't take no for an answer."

I sighed, taking them. I put one in my ear and braced myself.

The beat started off upbeat and a little catchy. And for the first few seconds, there were no vocals until a 'whoa' was sung. I listened hard for the lyrics to come.

Stained coffee cup, just a fingerprint of lipstick's not enough. Sweet where you lay, still a trace of innocence on the pillowcase.

It was slow but still somehow upbeat. And as the lyrics continued, I felt it building up.

Waking up beside you I'm a loaded gun. I can't contain this anymore. I'm all yours I've got no control, no control. Powerless, and I don't care it's obvious. I just can't enough of you. The pedal's down, my eyes are closed. No control.

Throughout the first part, a voice stuck out to me. It was the perfect mix of high and low and just a little bit raspy. It warmed my cheeks a little and made me smile. That voice--whichever of the five boys--was wonderful.

Taste on my tongue, I don't wanna wash away the night before. In heat, where you lay, I could stay right here and burn in it all day.

I could tell that there were two different voices here, both of them different from the voice from before.

Waking up beside you I'm a loaded gun. I can't contain this anymore. I'm all yours I've got no control, no control. Powerless, and I don't care it's obvious. I just can't enough of you. The pedal's down, my eyes are closed. No control.

I pulled the ear buds out of my ears, handing them to the girl. I smiled. "They're not that bad actually. Very talented and very good voices."

Whoever this girl seemed to be, my words brightened her mood visibly. A smile stretched her cheeks and her eyes sparkled. "Really? You think so? So many people hate them because they're this supposed boy-band, but they're not! Boys, I mean. They are men. They're all adults. Calling them a boy-band is just a little stupid, don't you think?"

I blinked. This girl had a mouth that wouldn't stop running. But for the sake of being nice, I listened to her closely, willing to talk to her about Louis and his band for a little bit. By the time we reached the next stop--which was her stop coincidentally--I'd decided she was a nice girl with a big heart and lots of love for One Direction.

As the bus rolled to a stop, she turned to me, placing a hand on my arm. A thoughtful expression crossed her face. "Thank you," she spoke softly. "I mean it, thank you for letting me talk about One Direction. I've been on a bus for a day and I've had no one to talk to about anything. So really, thank you."

"I, uh, it's no problem," I stammered.

The girl flashed me a smile before grabbing her bag from the top compartment and swiftly exiting the bus. 

So when I write I do this thing where I my fingers are typing faster than my brain is going, so I end up missing words when I write. And I publish then look over my mistakes cos why not? So if you see mistakes, I missed them or I haven't gotten to fixing them yet. :)