Drawing the Line // louis tomlinson [hold]

Four- she's different

Four- she's different

Louis's POV

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One day. Not even. It was only a couple hours. She was the one to drive me out, which I most definitely wasn't expecting. Usually when I'm around other girls, nobody leaves except me because of course I can't sign Autographs and take pictures forever.

But Macy is different, she made me storm out,which meant she was under my skin. But of course I would never admit that because I'm the one that gets under the skin of others. Nobody gets under my skin, because that simply isn't how things work.

Upset at the occurring events, I bust through the door to our hotel room, nobody present to hear the door scrape the wall. I kick it closed with my heel and continue my minor tantrum into my room where I collapse on my bed, not sure what to do with myself since all the boys are out doing whatever.

That's when I notice the crumpled, damp piece of paper still crushed beneath my fingertips. I unclench my fist, carefully taking the somewhat demolished sheet from my hand and un-balling it, in attempt to try and smooth it out gently.

Once I restore it to something close to what it used to look like, crease marks are everywhere, the water color bled into the ink and the lead smudged hopelessly, creating even more of a mess than it was before I left Macy's.

I sigh and toss it to the side, not caring if black paint bled into the crisp, white bed sheets. At first, I stare at the ceiling, but once that proves boring, I shift so that my eyes have a nice view of the black inky mess.

Just like before, I see nothing but smudges and creases and lines, but the more I look at it, the more things reveal themselves. I don't see "cats" but I see angry storm clouds where the water color seeped into the ink and lead, making them swirl together making what looked like the beginning of rumbling storm clouds about to release water across a long stretch of thirsty, dry plains.

I have no clue where that sudden burst of creativity came from, but it should satisfy Macy. That was a lot deeper than kiddie pool level, so it was something, at least.

Pleased with myself, I set the painting down again, not on the bed because I have a sudden change of heart and care wether or not the sheets become ruined from the contents of the paper.

I sigh again, deeper this time as I outstretch my arms over the soft white sheets, surely wrinkling them under my weight. But I smile, knowing that I will be able to prove Macy wrong as I make my to that god forsaken college tomorrow morning.

"Oh Louis," I chuckle to myself as I look back up at the pasty white ceiling. "You really are a genius."

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Three cheers for short chapters!