Touch {Louis Tomlinson AU}

three

With sweat dripping down my face, I threw multiple jabs at the gray punching bag. My eyes were narrow and my mind was focused, as Drake was blasting through the speakers of the gym.

It had been a month since my encounter with Louis. I was grateful that there was distance between us, due to the fact that I've wanted to strangle him multiple different times. Nate would come and help me train, but today he was needed elsewhere, which pissed me off.

Just as I struck the bag, the music cut off, causing me to snap my head towards the stereo. I drop my hands to my side, as Nate stated at me with his arms crossed. "I thought you were needed somewhere else." I said rudely, walking over to the bench and unwrapping my hands.

"I was. I finished what I needed to do early, so here I am."

"Well gladly screw off. I don't need you here."

"V-"

"No, Nate. I'm more than capable of taking care of myself." I snapped, collecting my things and exiting the building. As I got into my truck, Nate ran up to the driver side and placed his hand on the window. I groaned loudly, rolling down the window and glaring at him. "What the hell do you want?"

"You have a fight tonight. I'll send you the address. Louis and my fiancée are coming, as well." He explained, before pushing himself off the truck and towards his car. I looked at him as he walked away, the word 'fiancée' stuck in my head.

That's why he was needed elsewhere. He proposed to his girlfriend.

I looked at my steering wheel, my heart torturing me with a ping of jealousy, something I've never felt.

Something I shouldn't be feeling.

\**\**\

Hours later, I arrived to the local fight club, Lucha. My head was pounding, the recent consumption of six beers making my already existing headache even worse.

I walked into the locker room, Nate and the others waiting for me. Louis gave me a short nod, which I completely ignored, as I pulled my black t-shirt over my head and tossed it into the locker, revealing my black sports bra.

I slipped my shoes off and slid my jeans down my legs, revealing my compression shorts. Behind me, I heard Nate telling Louis to "keep it in his pants." I rolled my eyes, grabbing my hair tie and pulling my hair into a ponytail, before sitting down and waiting for Nate to wrap my hands up.

"Your opponent is Carleigh Jacobs. From what I've heard, she tends to strike as soon as the bell rings. She's trained in martial arts, but that hasn't stopped you." Nate explained, as he pulled a chair up and sat in front of me. He took my left hand and wrapped it up. Louis pulled up a chair beside him, my head snapping in his direction and glaring at him. Nate noticed my action, only to point a finger at me sternly. "You need to be a lot nicer, not to him, but to me and yourself."

I snorted, as he grabbed my right hand and continued to wrap my hands. "I'm not that bad of a person." Louis stated, his hands resting on top of his thighs. His long sleeve shirt rode up his arm slightly, revealing a tattoo of the four suits - a spade, club, diamond, and heart - that circled his wrist.

Some of the tattoos this boy has makes no f***ing sense, I swear.

"I'll be nicer when hell freezes over. Right now, I need to focus on the task at hand." I snapped, smiling at both Nate and Louis. "Okay? Good." Once he was done wrapping my hand, I stood up and walked away.

\**\**\

•mystery•

"Don't be offended by her. She's been treating everyone this way for years. Especially her brother." Nate explained, as he straightened up the area around him. "She's had a lot of shit happen to her and her way of coping with it is through anger."

"Can I ask what happened?"

"It's not my story to tell. She'll tell you when she stops hating the world." Nate sighed, as he head towards the door Vale had walked out of moments before.

"Nate," I said, causing him to stop in his tracks and look at me. I was crazy for even thinking what I was thinking. It couldn't work. "I have a plan."

But it was worth a try.

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Hi, hi. Love you. These have been short, but chapters will get longer. Promise.

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Logan, xx

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