Silent Laughter (Louis Tomlinson Fan-Fic) Book 3

Epilogue

A/N: F*** it

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"What if she doesn't like me?"

"I think if she didn't like you, Winnie then she wouldn't have continued chatting with you for like a million months."

"It's only been eight."

"She's going to like you."

"How do you know? It's different. Like this is actually going to happen. Person-on-person interaction."

Louis cradles my face in his hands and gives me a soft smile before kissing the tip of my nose. He's been doing that lately, finding more places on my face to kiss other than my lips. And I'm not complaining about that at all.

"She's going to like you." He whispers. I can feel his warm breath on my skin and it's still exhilarating to this day.

"How are you so sure?"

"You're the best. If she doesn't like you than she doesn't know what she's missing."

I groan loudly and he rolls his eyes quickly before chuckling, kissing the side of my forehead before finally releasing my face. We're both just standing in the airport, one of Louis' bodyguards holding up one of those tacky cardboard signs that has her name written on it in bold, red painted letters.

Izzy helped me paint it.

A few paps are surrounding us like usual and even though I still haven't gotten used to the whole people knowing who I am thing, I block them out, grabbing Louis' hand and squeezing it. It's nice being able to do that in public. Despite those flashes, everything has felt more real. 

My dad still thinks that Louis is a tosser, but he's my tosser and I love how I can hold his hand forever and still feel like it's the first time. And no one can tell me shit about it. Not even Mark. 

Gene thinks that Louis is just one heated up pixie with facial hair while my mum seems to like him but still thinks he needs a haircut.

People begin entering the building and maybe I'm too nervous about this, but I can't help it. This girl is the epitome of genius and I don't want to seem like a total idiot. At least when I was behind the screen I had more time to come up with more intelligent responses to her analogy's on life and such. But this time, I'm going to have to wing it and it's frightening. Coop told me not to worry about it, that I already sounded like a portable Ghandi that can fit in someone's pocket, but I was still stressing. Especially since she has gone through a lot in the past year and I don't want her to feel anymore disappointed. 

People are beginning to grab their suitcases, one man using his whole back to carry this Mickey Mouse duffle, then a woman grabbing this dark purple suitcase that could fit a body, and I wished Louis wasn't so close to me so I could have space to pace. But then again, all the cameras are ever so surrounding and I don't want tomorrow's headline to be something about me being some crazy girl that Louis is dating. What's taking her so long.

"Relax." Louis mutters.

I don't. 

"When we get home, I'm going to make you some dinner for you and your friend and everything will be all good. You both will laugh and she'll see how great you are and how lucky I am an-"

"Louis, you can't cook."

"Exactly. Great conversation starter."

I smile at that, just a little, and can't help but turn to him and leave a small kiss on his cheek. His cheeks are the roughest things to kiss, those small hairs pinching my mouth, but I still touch my lips there anyway as much as I can. I'm addicted to every part of him I guess. It's kind of pathetic but people consider that quality of mine to be charming.