"I don't have an extra car like Goose does, so you can just sit behind me," Louis straddles his cycle, patting the seat behind him.
I get on, "Where do I put my hands?"
"Haven't you rode a cycle before?" He asks, "Put your hands around me."
"Duh, I've ridden one! But I didn't know if it was going to be awkward because-"
He looks into my eyes as he grabs my hands and puts them around his waist. I don't even know what to say. His leather T-Birds jacket feels cold against my bare arms.
"See, it's not that awkward," He starts the cycle and we drive off. It's so loud, but it's a peaceful type of loud. The wind blows my hair around and its starts to blow in my face and mouth so I duck down and rest my head on his back, wrapping my arms tighter around him.
He stops at a red light, "I live right over-"
"I know where you live, Chloe," He says.
"How? I never have anyone over?" I ask. How does he know where I live? No one ever comes over to my house because I have a little brother and sister, and they like to cause trouble.
"You did in the ninth grade. You had a birthday party. Of course, we didn't really know each other then... but you invited the whole grade."
"You remember that?" I'm surprised.
"How could I not? It was the highlight of my freshman year."
The light changes to green and he speeds off in the direction of my house. Was it really the highlight of his year?
"We have arrived at our destination," He smiles, hopping off his bike, taking my hand and helping me off, even though I am perfectly capable of doing it on my own.
"Thank you, kind sir," I pretend to curtsy.
"So... are you going to invite me in or what?" He asks bluntly.
"O-oh, I didn't know you wanted to come in," I say, leading him to the door.
He doesn't say anything, but neither do I, and I continue into the house. We pass through the kitchen and the living room, then finally up the stairs to my room. I don't know why I'm taking him up to my room.
"Well... this is my room, I guess," I sit cross-legged on my bed.
He wanders around aimlessly, going through my things. He checks out my box of records, and he looks at the papers all over my desk and then he starts to go through my drawers.
"Hey!" I shout, jumping up, grabbing his shoulders and yanking him backwards.
"What?!"
"Don't do that," I shut my dresser drawer.
"Why not?" He tries to reach around me to open it again.
"Because I have underwear and stuff in there!"
"Sooooo?"
"Sooo, I'd rather you not be going through all my personal things."
"Okay," He plops down on my bed, "Where is everyone, anyways?"
"Well... my ma's at work, and everyone else is at school still," The elementary school ran longer than the high school did.
"Ahh," He says, putting his hands behind his head and leaning back against my pillows. I lay down beside him on my stomach.
"So, you never told me what Michael said," I prompt him.
"Shakespeare."
"Yeah, same difference."
"He said yes, but it's costing me five bucks per paper! And I have to go pick it up tomorrow at his house. But you can't tell anyone!"
"I wasn't gonna."
"I got a rep to protect. If anyone found out, my rep'd be ruined, and Sharon would kill me!" He exclaims.
I pull the pillow out from underneath his head, "No one cares about your rep, Louis," and I start to hit him with it.
"Hey!" He shouts, muffled by the fabric. He grabs another one and starts to hit me back.
I run out of my room and try to get to the stairs but his long arms pull me back to him. It reminds me of the night we played Seven Minutes in Heaven.
I don't struggle this time, and I spin around, his hands resting on my hips and I look up. I can feel my lips start to move closer to his, like a magnet was pulling me. My heart begins to beat faster and I can't stop looking at his lips. They're so perfect and so kissable and-
"Chloe! I'm home!" My ma shouts from downstairs and we jump apart. He runs his fingers through his hair and I clear my throat.
"Um," He coughs, "I think I'm going to head home. I'll see you tomorrow?" He says very quickly and he books it downstairs and out the back door.
I blink a few times. What was that? I go downstairs to help my ma put away groceries.
YOU ARE READING
1961 // louis dimucci
Fanfictionhappy birthday chloe enjoy my terrible writing and the sex god fantasies of louis dimucci