Mr Bump - A Louis Tomlinson fanfic

Chapter 8

1 MONTH LATER

~LOUIS POV~

Things were finally starting to settle down. The first week or two was torture, the constant screeches of the paparazzi was unbearable. After the press conference, when I came out as a couple with Clara, the media went crazy. I tweeted it, put it on Facebook, confirmed it whenever anyone asked. However, people doubted us. Some people even sussed out Harry's plan. But Clara and I carried on as normal, holding hands in public, cooing at each other in romantic coffee shops, being as 'cutesie' as possible. I even bought her a promise ring, and proposed to her in a public restaraunt. Harry told me I was being too obvious, so we've tried to cool it down now. But I think people are finally starting to believe us, and the media are focusing on some other celebrity couple now.

"Lou? What are you doing up so late?" A voice whispers from behind me. I whip my head round, and smile fondly at the sight. Clara is rubbing her eyes tiredly, wearing one of Harry's rugby shirts and a pair of girl boxers. Her slim legs are restless, and she nudges her toe against the floor. Her hair is thrown into a sloppy ponytail. No matter what she wears or what time of day, she always looks flawless.

"Couldn't sleep, babe. You okay?" I ask softly, and she nods. She walks over to the couch I'm sitting on, and flops down on the floor, crossing her legs.

"I'm so tired, Louis. Of it all." She sighs, her voice cracking. I notice her eyes are red and blotchy. I lean forward and reach for her hand.

"What's wrong? What have people been saying to you?" I urge, but she shakes her head.

"Just meaningless hate, Lou, I understand that. It's... It's been going on for ages, and we just don't seem to be going anywhere, you know?" She says, and my heart sinks.

I thought she had been enjoying herself. I know I had. Secretly, I think I'm starting to like her. All the flirting, holding hands, kissing etc had really led me to believe she liked me, too. But maybe she was just an amazing actress. I think I've stopped acting.

"You're not having fun with this anymore?" I croak, and she shoots me a disbelieving look.

"Having fun? Lou, if this is your idea of fun, I seriously worry for your mental health." She retorts, sniggering nastily. Its moments like these when I realise why I shouldn't like her. She has severe attitude problems, and truth be told, she's a real bitch. She's stubborn, cocky, selfish and rude. 

I scoff, removing my hand from hers. "Whatever. Go back to bed, Clara." I hiss, and she stares at me open-mouthed. I'm not usually this rude, but I'm sick of her mixed signals.

"Okay.. Er, night then?" She says hesitantly, and sneaks back to her room. 

I smacked my forehead with my palm. These feelings were irrational. We were in a fake relationship, and I knew that. So what was my problem? Of course she wasn't sending me mixed signals, she was just acting. Sometimes it felt so real though, like she really did like me. But then she'd catch herself, and go back to acting. I had no idea what was going on, I just knew I couldn't stay mad at her.

I tiptoed to her bedroom, and knocked softly. She told me I could enter, but when I opened the door she was curled up in bed. 

"Louis? What do you want?" She choked out, somewhat harshly. I winced, this was going to take some softening.

"Clar... I'm sorry. I was a dick. I'm just, really confused at the minute. Can't you understand that?" I pleaded with her. She sat up to face me.

"Louis, I honestly don't know what you have to be confused about. Can you leave me alone now? I'm tired." She replied flatly.