One Meaningless Promise~13

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Oooh already chapter 13 ;)))) comment vote and READ my lovely larry shippers.

~Bell

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Chapter 13.

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So in this chapter basically Harry and Louis hate each other so Louis invites Eleanor over to make Harry feel all icky and jealous inside :>

"Paul?"

"Eh, hey Lou. What do you need? Is something wrong? You're calling late."

"No, nothing's wrong. I just had a question."

"Sure thing, buddy. What's up?"

"I'd like Eleanor to come to Bouvet Island."

"Uh, I thought you didn't like Eleanor."

"I changed my mind."

"Okay... She'll be over by tomorrow morning."

Louis hung up the phone and slammed it on his bedside table, running his hands through his hair in frustration. This was a horrible idea, but he was going to do it anyway. He didn't really care. All he wanted was to forget about Harry. And maybe get him a little jealous. The truth was, Louis didn't like Eleanor. Not at all, actually. The only thing he was looking for was someone to distract him from the rest of his life. So that was why he was inviting Eleanor over to the island. And it wasn't like management was going to say no; they knew he didn't like her, she was his "beard" after all, so they'd do anything to get him and Eleanor spend time together.

Louis got up from bed and got dressed in a pair of black jeans, a grey sweater and white vans. Taking one glance at the clock before shrugging on his coat, he left the house and closed the door after him. He shivered as he walked down the dark, eerie streets, the only dull lighting coming from the insides of the small shops lining the sidewalks and the pale glow of the moon overhead. It was getting late; almost midnight. Louis planned to be home by at least one thirty in the morning.

He straightened out his jacket and strolled inside the tattoo parlour, the familiar dark atmosphere and almost smoky scent of the place calming him. At the desk again was the same jet-black haired lady with the colourful fish tattoo on her chest, typing away on her cellphone just like last time. She barely looked up when Louis spoke.

"Hi, I'm coming to get a tattoo," he said, slapping the cash on the counter in front of her.

She looked up and fisted the money, counting it all before slipping it in the register.

"Davis is over there."

She gestured toward one of the rooms where Davis was leaned over a pile of instruments, preparing them for his next project. As Louis stepped through the door, Davis looked up and offered a friendly smile, reaching over and shaking Louis's hand, giving him a hearty pat on the back.

"Louis," his voice boomed in the tiny room, "how are things, bro?"

"Been better."

"What're you looking for, this time, man?"

Louis thought about this for a moment, trying to morph his feelings and emotions into the form of a tattoo. He was angry, and sad, lost, desperate for some kind of affection--from anyone, really. He was lonely and depressed and tired of everything. But he wasn't really sure how Davis could ink that on his skin.

Davis flopped a hand at Louis, shrugging and beginning to set up his station.

"I know just what you need, mate," Davis said, a hint of a knowing tone in his voice.

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