Breaking Free • TFC 2.0 • l.t. au

Chapter One

Chapter One

"How long has it been?" He asks.

I shrug and lean back in the sofa. "Around 2 weeks since I've gone out this place" I say and flick a peanut skin on the center table.

2 weeks have gone by really slow. Not that I'm complaining. I'd rather stay here than go back to my dorm where Carrie will find me and do every possible evil thing Carrie Shelsher can do.

"Hmmm and 2 weeks since I've been coming over?" He asks.

"Not that I'm complaining but you're missing out a lot in the outside world." I tell him.

"And the outside world did that..." He pointed at my wrist. The scars were still there and they may never come off. I pull the sleeve of my jacket to cover up the marks. The marks just prove how much of a mess I am.

"I'm going to go set up the table..." I say and got up from my spot on the couch. I don't want this conversation with him, or anyone. It's been so hard to forget and move pass something that leaves you scarred. Especially if you see the scars every single waking moment of your life and wonder why you're still here.

I walk briskly into the kitchen and open the cupboards. I pull out the ceramic plates and place them on the counter top. I pull out the forks and spoons from the drawer and set them aside. Louis stood by the corner, watching me intently.

"You're setting the table at 3:45 PM?" He asks with a chuckle.

"I like to be prepared. What time are you leaving for Wembley anyway?" I ask him. He takes a step closer to me and shows me his million dollar smile.

"In a while." He says. His voice was low and his hands are shaking on his sides.

He's obviously nervous. Peter said he has to sound really professional and experienced during the interview so he'll leave an impression. The edge that Louis has against the other applicants is that he's younger. Very much younger. Most of them are around the age of 30 while he's only 21. The board, according to Peter, loves young people as staff. It brings out freshness in their programs.

When he touched my face, I can feel them trembling and his palm getting sweaty. "You're hand's wet, I get it." I say with a half smile. He chuckles and drops his hand. He attempted to pull the sleeves of his shirt up but his hands were shaking too much.

I push his hand away and fold the sleeves up carefully and neatly up to his elbow. I did the same with the other and looked up at him. "This is the first I've ever seen you so nervous, you know?" I tell him.

"Because this is Wembley Stadium we're talking about." He says with a scoff. The front door clicked open and aunt Cecile walked in with Peter and the two girls. The girls didn't take a second to look back but instead raced to their rooms.

Aunt Cecile went straight to the kitchen while Peter stood by the wall. He grinned at Louis and took a step closer. "Today's the day, huh? Good luck, lad. Don't let me down." He says, patting his shoulder and entering the kitchen.

"Maybe I should get going." He says and picks up his blazer from the couch.

"I'll walk you out..." I say.

When we stepped out the freezing temperature, I regret not wearing a sweater. The top of Louis' car had a layer of thin ice as well as the windshield. It's only the first week of November and it's already freezing.

He grabs my hand and turns me so I'd be infront of him. He covers my hand with his other one and I can feel how soaked they are despite the cold.

"They'll love you." I say.

"Is it so easy to say that?" He asks with a cheeky smirk.

"I should know." I say with a shrug. He cups my face and kisses my forehead. I smile to myself and gently push him away.

"You're the only one who can keep me sane right now." He says and brushes his thumb on my cheeks. "You sure you don't want to tag along?" He asks.

I nod and pull his hand from my face. "You're going to be late, go, now." I say and push him in his car.

How ironic is the insane person the one keeping the sane person sane.

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Sorry its so short!

There'll be LouisxMeg moments in this book, I promise you that ;)