Treacherous {Louis Tomlinson}

(9) Complications

    Hey everyone. I know I haven't updated in almost two weeks again and I'm sorry. I've been pretty busy lately. I also know I never posted that other chapter I promised with my last update, so here it is (finally). I hope you enjoy. :)

    Comments are always appreciated, and may earn you a dedication. ;)

    Love you guys!

    Clara.

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    *Louis*

    “Louis!”—“Louis is it true?!”—“Is Louis Tomlinson the father?”—“How his Ellison, Louis?”

    Voices bombard me from every direction as the paps shout questions at me. I keep my eyes on the ground and follow Andy closely, girls screaming and cheering around us. I press my lips together and try not to think about the words floating around my head. I’m suddenly grateful for the sunglasses over my eyes. I feel the bag around my shoulder start to slip and reach up to put it back into place. As I do there’s a vicious jerk from the bottom and the strap slips from my fingers, slamming against the crook of my elbow and burning the skin as it twists around my arm.

    “Hey!” I hear Andy shout, switching sides to make the girl who’d grabbed my bag let go of it. “Keep back! Step back!”

    In front of me Lucas gestures for me to keep walking as Andy deals with the girls. I try not to feel annoyed by the fans. I know that without them we wouldn’t be anywhere. But sometimes it’s just so hard to appreciate someone who is practically trying to attack you. Ducking into the car, I slam the door behind me and drop my bag on the floor. I rub at the red mark on my arm bitterly. Andy gets in the other side and the driver pulls out into the road. I rest my head against the seat and take in a deep breath.

    “Are you hurt?”

    “Just a minor burn from the strap. I’ll be fine.”

    The ride to our tour bus is relatively short and soon I’m stepping out of the car. There are still girls and paparazzi crowding around the gates, but the car park is thankfully blocked off from the public eye. I slip on the strap again just as Harry walks up to me. He claps a hand on my shoulder and we share a look. Ever since news of Ellison’s pregnancy got out yesterday, the boys have been subtly checking on me every few minutes. I immediately look around for Harper and try to not feel disappointed when I don’t see her. After an afternoon of doing interviews I am certainly ready to move on to our next stop. With a sigh I take my bag to our bus and drop it on my bunk. When I step out I see Harper coming out of her own car with Caroline and Lou.

    I can’t help but admire the way she always looks so put-together. Today she’s gone for a black dress with what looks like polka dots on it and a belt across the middle. Her muscled legs are on display, her shoes brown to match the belt. She has on a cream-colored cardigan to ward against the chilly air. I tell myself to stop staring and force my eyes to wander somewhere else. My phone rings just as Sandy, Dan, and the others arrive. When I see the number on the screen my hand clenches into a fist.

    “What?”

    The crying on the other is a little shocking, but I’m not in the mood to feel sorry for Ellison. She created this whole mess herself.

    “I’m s-sorry, Lou! I didn’t say that you’re the dad! I sw-wear to G-God!”

    I sigh and feel my shoulders release some of their terseness.