Chapter Three

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Chapter Three

Louis P.O.V 

I straightened the collar of my white button up, shifting in my striped suspenders. A mix of emotions were flying through me as I stared at myself in the mirror. We had arrived back in London only yesterday, and I was already going on my date with this Eleanor girl. I sighed, running a hand over my face, feeling helpless as I remembered everything Paul had said to me for today.

"You have to act like you like her, they've already chosen her for you. Just muster it up and act like you're dating, because if not, Management will not be happy. I'm sorry, Louis, I know you and Harry are close, and maybe they're just misunderstanding this. Either way, I hope you have fun on your date tonight, you're meeting her at the Starbucks on Villiers at 6. So look sharp." He smiled apologetically, than patted me on the shoulder and left. I was left with a million plus questions, but I just stayed silent. 

Lost in thought, I almost didn't notice Harry coming up behind me, his hands in his pockets. Although he had a smirk on his face, there was something off. I gave him a weak, crooked smile. 

"You look dashing, Tommo." He said, laughing, brushing off my shoulders unneededly. I stared up at him, grinning.

"Thanks, Haz. I really, really don't want to do this." I sighed, running my thumbs behind my suspenders out of habit. He cupped his palm against my cheek, before giving it a like slap. 

"Buck up, she's gonna be your girlfriend no matter what." His voice teased, but was hollowed out, something strange there. I paused, and he was looking at me that way again. I bit my lip, letting out a breath. 

"It's like I'm a prince, and being forced into an arranged marriage or something. Except it's because they think I'm gay." I scoffed, chuckling bitterly, shaking my head, walking around Harry, looking at my watch. 5:20. I should probably get down there. I walked into the kitchen, just as my phone was buzzing on the counter. I picked it up, answering it before looking at the ID. 

"Hello?"

"Hey, Lou. Just calling to wish you luck on that date tonight. I know you'll need it." Niall's voice chimed out on the other line, and I grinned.

"Thanks Niall, how's your mum?" I questioned, yet hearing my name called as Niall began to fill me on family details.

"Louis, Lou, look! I'm juggling!" I turned on my heel, my brow furrowing, before an infectious and stupid grin spread across my lips as I watched Harry juggle some pears. I chuckled, rolling my eyes, before slapping a pear out of mid-air. He looked at me in horror. 

"Not anymore." I snorted, moving the receiver of the phone away from my mouth as Niall kept jabbering away. 

"You do not mess my juggling groove up." Harry spat sarcastically, before railroading me into the fridge, the wind knocking out of me. I squeaked, eyes widening as we slipped onto the floor. 

"N-niall I've gotta go." I said quickly, my phone clattering to the floor as I let out a peel of laughter as Harry straddled me down squirming. 

"Jesus, Haz, where did you learn to wrangle so well." I said breathlessly as he pinned my arms above my head, grunting. A smirk pulled across his face, some of those curls falling in front of his eyes.  

"I'm the sex God, remember?" He retorted. Cheeky bastard. I let out a guffaw of a noise, giggling, which quickly stopped as he leaned down and bit my neck. My breath hitched, and eyes popped out of my head. He leaned back up, freeing my arms, but still straddling my legs. He grinned devilishly, and I leaned up on my elbows, rubbing my neck, feeling my face flush. Another elongated moment of where our eyes met and I could feel my heart hammering in my chest.

What the hell is wrong with me, lately? I blinked, looking down at my phone, which bleated at me, a new text message from Paul.

Get your butt to the Starbucks, or you'll be late.

I let out a stiff sigh, looking back at Harry. "Release me, peasant. I must head forth to my... date." I said airily, scowling at the word date. His eyelids lilted gently, and he leaned forward, a smirk still on his face as his lips dangerously close over mine. 

"What's the magic word?" He purred, and I gulped, feeling my face flush. Stop, Louis. I shoved down whatever emotion I was feeling, replacing it with a fake annoyed smirk, punching him in the chest and sliding out from underneath him.

"Get the fuck off of me?" I simpered, looking down as he wheezed, smiling up at me as I stood. 

"No.. no not quite." He giggled, and I helped him stand up. He gazed at me for a moment, before diverting his eyes. "Well... have fun on your date." He said patting my shoulder. I grabbed his hand, holding it there for a moment, grinning at him.

"Oh I will." I winked, smirking as he rolled his eyes, slapping the back of my head as I walked out of our house and clambering into my car, letting out an exasperated sigh, rubbing my face, before starting the engine and pulling out.

Pulling into the narrow back parkinglot for the coffee shop, I could feel my nerves getting a hold of me. I pushed out of the car, and straightened myself up, pushing a hand through my hair. It was incredibly busy today, and probably the most sensible spot for a pop star to be, having a date. Paul had said Eleanor insisted this being where we met though. I exhaled, putting on my sunglasses, wishing I could just evaporate, but I put on my trademark crooked smile and weaved through the lot to the shop, pulling open the door, immediatley being stopped by a girl who was squealing so loud, that it caught everyones attention. I grinned at her, wondering if this was Eleanor, but based off of the typicl fangirl noises, I guessed not.

She bounded up to me, asking for my autograph, explaining how much she loved me, the typical. But it always made me smile, and feel good whenever people did this. After she left, I stood in line for a coffee, checking my watch. 6 on the nose. I looked around at all the filled tables with varying shades of hipsters, but one caught my eye. She was actually alone, her eyes downturned on a book, clutching a coffee as though her life depended on it. My eyes narrowed, curious as to if that was her. As I thought this she glanced up, seeing me instantly, a coy grin pulling on her lips. She closed her book, putting in a bag, pushing a piece of hair behind her ear and standing, eyes still on me. She was pretty, very pretty, but something felt very off. 

She came gliding over to me, extending her hand out to me, her grin widening even more. I didn't offer her as much of a smile, but shook her hand. 

"Hi, Louis. I'm Eleanor. I've been looking so forward to meeting you." She cooed, her voice seeping affection. My face flinched, I couldn't really say the same. I nodded. I wanted to ask her how she got into the bearding business, but I held my tongue. I sighed.

You have to do this, Lou. Suck it up and just act like you're genuinely excited to be doing this. 

I smiled slightly larger at her, feeling everyone's eyes curiously settling on us. 

"What would you like to do?" I questioned, nearly having to force it out. She grinned back, taking a sip from her iced coffee, swirling around. 

"I've got a few ideas." 

Driving on the way home, I was mentally exhausted. Sure, tonight had been fun, but something was still violently nagging at me, blinking warning signs. Sure, if she was a beard, she knew that she wasn't actually going to have a real relationship with me, but maybe we could be friends, just to make this whole process easier. She was a nice girl, and I did like her, but the over the expanse of 3 hours we aimlessly walked around London shopping. Sure, don't get me wrong, I love shopping, just.. not as a date. I sighed, drumming my fingers on the steering wheel. 

I thought about Hazza juggling, and a warm grin spread across my face, a painful laugh erupting from my throat into the otherwise quiet interior of the car. I sighed, when it suddenly hit me. What was nagging me so much.

She wasn't my Hazza. 

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