Illegal Love (Louis Tomlinson fan fiction)

Done.

Molly

I blink at him as his chin lowers. He hangs his head, his long hair shielding his face from my vision. I can picture his teeth sinking into his lower lip, his lips pursed tightly to the point where they hurt. His eyes are closed as he takes deep breaths, trying his hardest not to yell at me. Apparently his hardest wasn't hard enough.

"Louis," I whisper, setting my hand on his shoulder. He flinches away from my touch. I frown at him, clenching my teeth. "Talk to me."

He shakes his head, looking at me with his eyebrows raised. "Molly," he says softly. "You are so stupid."

My eyes narrow. "What do you mean? You're the one acting like a dick."

His icy blue eyes meet mine. "Excuse me? You don't know who the fuck you are, so you decide to buy a motorbike and drive around some dingy neighbourhood for no apparent reason. You didn't know where you were. You didn't know who was there. You didn't have any idea who you were, or what you were doing, so yeah! Driving to nowhere in the middle night is such a bloody brilliant idea!"

I gape at him. "So this my fault?"

He scoffs. "Of course this is your fault! You were the one who went down there!"

"I didn't want any of this to happen? Do you think I wanted to get lost and molested! And I was doing fine without your help!" I scream at him.

He bites his lip, giving me a sad, mocking smile. His red tongue prods at his teeth as he plays with his lip, biting it and rubbing it between his fingers. He shakes his head and rolls his eyes, looking up at the ceiling for a moment before standing up. "You looked like you were doing just amazing when I got there. And you sounded amazing on the phone, too. Screamin' and such. It was a great call to get in the middle of a gig."

"You are such a fucking hypocrite!" I yell at him. "You tell me not to go down there. You tell me its a bad place. You tell me, and mock me about how stupid I am for going down there while you were right there! How fucking idiotic is that?"

"Listen," he snaps at me. "There's a lot of things that I do that I believe you, or, in some cases, anybody shouldn't so stop trying to turn this to me and lets talk about you!"

"We always talk about me! I want to talk about you! Your bad decisions!'

"Well, I don't," he tells me, grabbing his coat. " I'm leaving."

I scoff, crossing my arms. "Youre leaving? Really? Right now? In the middle of our conversation?"

He looks amused. "Did I stutter?"

I roll my eyes. "Fine. See you in class."

"Fine. See ya," he says as he leaves the room.

"Fine!" I yell after him.

"Fine!" His voice echoes through the house. I scoff.

"Fine!"

"Fine!" The door slams. I suddenly feel cold and alone. My heart beats faster as tears well up in my eyes. My throat burns with unshed tears that I refuse to let go.

"Louis?" I call. There's no answer. "Louis?" I whisper. He doesn't respond.

--------

Walking into that fucking classroom was probably the hardest thing I've ever done. My feet just wanted to turn tail and run. My mind was telling me to run as fast as I possibly could away, but, of course, me being me, I followed my stupid-as-fuck heart and stumbled into the classroom, my feet and legs basically unable to work, so I had to force them. I was five minutes late.

Louis stares at me for a bit from his desk, one leg folded under him and his chin placed carefully in his palm, watching me with narrowed eyes as I take my place behind Ceci. She gives me a worried look, but I'm too focused on staring Louis down, trying to seem intimidating and not like I cried myself to sleep and added a bunch more make-up to hide my red eyes. You know, the use-the-entire-bottle-of-Murine-redness-reducer-look. He glares at me as I take my seat, making sure to be as silent and slow as I possibly can at putting my books and backpack down.

He clears his throat, looking down for a second as he folds his hands on the desk over some ungraded paper. I sit down, looking bored. "Miss Hunt, you're late."

I scoff, giving him a small smile. "No shit."

His lips part in surprise. I can tell he's dying to say something. To yell at me. Curse me out. But, no, I have my wall up. Nothing's taking me down today.

He does that half lip bite/half playing-with-his-lip thing that drives me crazy. I stare at his ringed finger with no emotion what-so-ever. He sighs. "Do not provoke me today, Miss. I'm not in the mood."

I smile at him innocently, folding my arms to mimic him. I bite my lip. "What if I am?"

He glares at me, taking a deep breath before marking something on his post-it note stack and tearing it out. I sit back and cross my arms over my chest, quite impressed with myself. I feel quite badass.

Mr. Tomlinson starts the lesson about a book. Or a time-period. Or a character, I honestly don't know. I just don't care enough today. A yellow piece of paper drops on my desk. I jump before looking up to see Mr. Tomlinson walking away. I narrow y eyes at his back before gazing at the paper.

Stay after. I need to talk to you.

I scoff and roll my eyes. Like shit I will.

At the end of the class period, he dismisses everyone. I leave my stuff at my desk and walk over to him. I don't wait for him to say anything. The ring from my finger is ripped from my grasp and I place it on his desk, write on his worn copy of Pride and Prejudice. He gazes up at me, surprised and confused. I frown at him. "Keep it, you hypocritical, pompous ass."

I grab my stuff and leave the room.