Once

Chapter Eight

Stella

I received a text from Zayn asking me to come over and look after Louis, as he was incredibly sick but the other boys had an interview, and he was slightly worried. I agreed almost right away, as I didn't have much to do; Courtney had locked herself in our room and Clara was away somewhere. I received another text after telling me that the key was under the door, and nothing else after that. I called a taxi, collected some money and threw a pair of earphones into a handbag. I scribbled something onto a note to leave on the table, simply saying Gone out, might not be home for a while. I knew that even though Courtney hated me at the moment, she would freak out if I went missing. When she sees the note she might pretend not to care, but I know it would be better than her not knowing where I was. Biting my lip in annoyance, I realised that I couldn't get into my room, as Courtney was there - this meant I couldn't get a jumper. Not only was it freezing outside, but I wanted just a little more time to think before Management knew about my tattoo, as they would kill me and fire the girls, which was completely unfair on them. Letting out a sigh as I realised I would have to keep Harry's jumper on - and how much shit Louis would give me for it - I walked out of the door. After a lonely walk down the hallway, an elevator with an elderly woman who talked shit about one of my songs when it started playing through the elevator and a hurried walk through reception, I was finally in the taxi to they boys' hotel. It was barely a five minute drive, which I found rather silly, who would put two rivalling hotels so close to one another? I threw a little to much money at the taxi at the driver, and when he tried to give me change, I snapped at him - I was in a really bad mood. I raced up to Louis room and felt around under the door for a second, and realised I couldn't reach the key. Frowning and wanting to scream with frustration, I pulled a random pen out of my bottomless handbag and slid the key out from under the door with ease. I quickly unlocked the door and went inside, closing it again, locking it behind me.

"Lou?" I called. "Lou mate, are you ok?" I didn't get a reply, so I hesitantly began walking further into the room. "Lou?" I called out again. I heard a crash in the bathroom and I have to admit, I screamed a little - it scared the crap out of me. Backing up against the door and ready to bolt, I heard heavy, clumsy footsteps coming closer and closer. Seconds later, someone was walking out from behind the corner, and at first I didn't recognise him.

"Stella?" A squeaky voice stuttered, and he stumbled slightly as he tried to walk closer to me.

"Fuck, Louis!" I ran over to him and half-hugged, half helped him to remain standing up. Zayn was right - he was really sick. He had giant bags under his eyes, his skin was very pale, and it looked as if the hair that wasn't glued to his face by sweat had been tried to be ripped out of his head. There was no way this was just a hangover. He held onto me, and he was shaking like mad. Just then, he let me go and ran into the bathroom. I walked to the kitchen and pulled out some cloths, running them under the water in the sink and I grabbed a small bucket from the cupboard next to the bin. I stood outside the bathroom door and waited until he had finished being sick before I let myself in. Sitting on the floor next to the toilet was a boy I had grown up loving, a boy who had always been the funny one who joked about everything, the one who was always there to comfort and help other people. And now, here he was, small and shaky, crying on the tiled floor. I felt my heart shatter, and I crouched down beside him, pulling him into a hug. He was pretty much sitting across my lap, crying into my shoulder while I tried to calm him down, stroking his hair. We sat there for ages, and despite how light Louis was, my legs had gone completely numb. Once his crying subsided to sobs and eventually stopped, he slowly began to stand up. He walked over to the sink and cleaned his face and teeth thoroughly before turning to me, sitting awkwardly sitting on the floor, trying to get feeling back into my legs. He smiled a little, which made my heart flutter slightly.

"Am I really that fat?" He asked, pretending to pout. I laughed a little.

"Yup. I wish I was as fat as you, Lou." I say sarcastically. Grinning like an idiot, he held his arms out to me. I grabbed them and he helped me stand up... Stupid freaking jelly legs, I fell against him, and poor Louis was pinned down between me and a wall.

"Sorry..." I say awkwardly, trying to stand up straight without falling straight back onto my ass.

"That's ok." Louis grinned cockily at me, staring me straight in the eyes. I watched his, too, trying to work out what he was thinking. He had pretty eyes... Louis leaned in, his forehead resting on mine. "Can I ask you something? You have to be honest." He said.

"Alright-" I started, and suddenly, he had swapped places with me, and I was the one against the wall. He was breathing right onto my face, and though with anyone else it would have been awkward, it felt strangely comforting with Louis.

"Do you have feelings for Harry?" He asked, his eyes pleading for me to say the right answer, although I had no idea what the right answer was, and suddenly I had no idea what to say. Yes and no. Maybe?

"I, um..." I trail off, wondering how to answer. A look of sudden sadness flickered in his eyes for just a second before they turned blank. He pushed himself off the wall, and I could move. He left the bathroom very quickly, and I had to almost run to keep up with him, not knowing his flat well enough to know exactly where he would go.

"Louis, I don't understand-" I start, and was cut off as he turned to face me, tears in his eyes again.

"I asked you one question. One fucking question. I..." He choked a little on his words. "I like you, Stella." I opened my mouth to tell him that he couldn't have feelings so soon after knowing me for a week, but he stopped me. "Think Stella, think." He stepped closer to me, and for a horrifying moment, I thought he was going to hit me. Instead, he placed both hands on my shoulders and his forehead on mine. "Please, remember." He closed his eyes for a few seconds, and turned around, and began walking away. I didn't think, I couldn't remember anything. I could only think of one thing that might fix this mess.

"Louis." I said, and for a second he stopped walking away. He turned to face me, and took a step towards me. "I don't like Harry." Louis smiled weakly.

"Really?" He stuttered. I nodded, and he took another step, closing in the distance between us. My mind was screaming at me to move, to get away from him before he did something, but I didn't want to. His eyes flicked from my own eyes to my lips, and I gasped a little. He softly pressed his lips onto mine, and although I knew I should have pulled away, my hands found their way up to rest on the back of his neck, while his sat on my lower back. As wrong as it was, it felt perfect, and I don't regret it.

A/N;

SUPER long, boring, cheesy, dramatic chapter for you!! I was told that my chapters were to short, and although this is far from average Wattpad chapter-length, it is VERY long for me!! :D So apparently my story wasn't dramatic enough, so despite the fact that this sort of thing bores me to tears, it's my readers' opinions that are important, not my own!! Love you all(: Who the friddle frag is Louis Tomlinson? One of the sexiest men on earth, pic on the side x