Drawing the Line // louis tomlinson [hold]

Two- impossible

Two- impossible

-

Extraordinary. . . It has to be extraordinary. . . I replay Mr. Beck's words in my mind as I clutch a warm cup of green tea between my fingers, gazing out at the gorgeous landscape from my living room.

That was one reason I wanted my own house instead of a dorm, I couldn't just let my eyes wander for ages at the outside world with a dorm. I loved my house because I got to play a big role in the design and it turned out much like Edward Cullen's house In twilight (cheesy, I know) which was exactly what I was going for. Only my house wasn't in the middle of the woods.

Along with my other thoughts, I was also pondering wether or not Louis would actually show up, or if he would abandon my request and leave me hanging. It did happen a bit abruptly and he may not have taken me seriously, but I really hope he did.

Not that I was eager to have Louis in my home, but I was rather excited to see where this would lead me and my project. It is most certainly a challenge, working with Louis Tomlinson, I would imagine. But I know this is really the challenge I need, and I'm more than ready to take it on.

I had done paintings and sculptures and pottery, water color, pastels, and anything else imaginable, but never have I ever actually worked on a living, breathing human. Of course I wasn't going to be painting Louis, or running a paint coated brush over his skin, or drawing a sketch of him and. . .louis jr. But, I would be doing something a lot more thoughtful, deep, and complex. I would be working on his emotions, in a way. Not in a creepy, weird way, but In a way that would result in something beautiful.

I take generous sips of my tea, knowing that I'll be needing it if I'm going to work with someone as Infuriating as Louis Tomlinson. Maybe I'm wrong and he's actually a decent person, maybe he can prove me wrong. But I wouldn't be surprised is he was just as arrogant as he's seems on social media.

I listen to the soft, consistent ticks of the clock, counting down the minuets until the almighty Tomlinson might actually show, or if he would at all.

Eventually, I hear knuckles on wood. I leave my mug and stride my way over to the front door, a tsunami of relief washing over me when I see the familiar face of Louis just on the other side of the door through the peephole.

"You finally showed up," I say, opening the door wide enough, allowing Louis to lead himself in.

"Yeah, love," he says as I kick the door closed with my heel. "It wasn't like I was about to pass up an opportunity to come to your house, I mean, look at you."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, Louis." I roll my eyes, already regretting my rash choice of an art project.

"This is a nice place you have here," he says, his mouth open slightly in awe, changing the the subject abruptly.

"Thanks," I say slowly, not sure of his rather thoughtful comment.

"But," he continues and I realize I've thanked him too Soon. "Where are all the posters?"

"Posters?" I question and arch my eyebrow.

"Yeah I mean, I assumed you were just some some crazed fan looking for a good excuse to get me over to your house," he explains like this happens on a daily basis.

"God, you really are as conceited as I thought," I shake my head, taking in an exasperated sigh. "Sorry to disappoint, but I was serious when I said this was for my actual art project." I say, my tone a bit more venomous that I had intended it to be.

"Aw, shame." He contorts his features into a pout. "But, it's fine."

"We should get started." I tell him bluntly, shuffling over to what I had set up.

"Alright, well, i was thinking you could draw me like one of your French models," I can almost hear the smirk in his voice.

"This is a serious art project, it's half of my final grade," I'm growing more and more fed up with Louis by the second.

"Well, if this is so serious, then I expect a payment." He says smugly, crossing his toned arms over his chest.

"You can't be serious," I gaped.

"This is a serious project, is it not?" He wasn't going to budge, and I needed to start this project soon, so I caved.

"Fine, I'll pay you by the hour," I pinch the bridge of my nose, praying I make it through this project without bursting a blood vessel.

"Aw babe, your the sweetest, but I can't start today. I have some business to take care of." He says, already turning for the door.

"No," I said simply, standing my ground. "I don't think so,"

"Excuse me?" He turns, his mouth parted slightly like he was awestruck someone had defied his request.

"Your my project and we go by my rules," I say, it was my turn to wear a smug look knowing I had the upper hand. "Sit your ass down, Tomlinson. I'm drawing the line." I pull out a stool, tapping the top, signaling him to sit down.

Much to my surprise, he obliges, sitting down on the wooden stool I pulled out for him. Feeling victorious, I shuffle over to a stack of paper I needed for the first step of this project. They were some of my old abstract paintings and sketches. I pluck a few from the pile, a few good ones for starting out with the impossible Louis Tomlinson.

"If you don't mind me asking, love," Louis speaks up, rupturing the silence. "What's your name?"

I hold the paper under my arms, stepping back over to Louis who is obediently sitting on the stool. "It's Macy, if you must know."

"Macy," he repeats, his voice holding admiration. "That's a pretty name, Macy."

"Thanks," I say, brushing off his compliment. "Now let's get this started, shall we?"

-

It's open, whoop whoop!!

Gah it's a sucky chapter, the next one will just be a continuation from this one . . .merp. .

I started is early because I was excited for this, tbh

I'll have the third chapter up soon I hope, they might be short chapters tho, idk. . .

But it's up, yay!