One Direction Imagines

Louis Imagine for Louis Ann Garcia (@weheartONEDIRECTION)

This is an imagine for a girl named Louis Ann Garcia, and it's with Louis, so it might get pretty confusing...so everytime I'm talking about The Tommo , I'll just say Louis. When I'm talking about the girl , I'll say her full name...hope that clears things up:)

**Louis Tomlinson's POV!**

"Boys...I just don't think I can do it," I tell them. "I'm not ready."

"Yes you are," Liam assures me. "You've been ready for a long time. You know exactly why you broke up with Eleanor months and months ago. You still haven't even gone through with your original plan of what you were going to do after you broke it off."

"Yeah," Zayn agrees. "Let's face it. You broke up with El because you're in love with another girl, and you need to tell her how you feel, Lou."

"I'll just chicken out or make a fool out of myself," I say. "And she won't even feel the same way."

"I see how she looks at you," Harry jumps into the conversation. "Trust me, she feels the same."

"What do you mean 'how she looks at me'?" I ask, confused.

"She looks at you the same way you look at her. Neither of you look at anybody else that way," Harry explains.

"Well, I'm not going to make some huge romantic gesture because she'll probably get scared off. So how am I supposed to tell her?" I inquire.

"Just meet in a private place and tell her how you feel," Liam instructs me. "That's what I'd do anyway."

"I'd take Liam's advice," Niall adds. "If he's been in a relationship for two years, he knows damn well how to do it right!"

I laugh. "Alright, lads. I guess I can do it."

"Yay!" Harry and Niall cheer.

I laugh at them and stand up, heading off to my room. "I need some time to plan out what I'm going to say, and then I'm gonna hit the sack...goodnight boys."

"Goodnight Loueh!" Zayn calls after me and I chuckle. Those boys...

****

The next day, I'm stood at the front door of Louis Ann Garcia's flat, feeling as if I'm about to puke. I take one of my shaky hands off of the bouquet of flowers I'm holding, wipe my sweaty palm onto the side of my leg and nervously knock at her door.

"Be right there!" I hear her call.

A few seconds later, she opens the door. Her waist-length, beautiful black hair is wavy and her sparkling brown eyes are slightly enhanced with mascara. She's wearing shorts and a t-shirt, but I still can't think of a time when she looked more beautiful.

"Hey Lou," she smiles warmly at me.

"Hi," I utter. 'Hi'? Not a, 'hello beautiful,' or even a 'hey love.' Just 'hi'?! Smooth, Louis. Smooth.

"Who are the flowers for?" she asks curiously.

"Erm...you," I stutter, extending my hand that holds the flowers out to her.

"Aw, Louis!" her face lights up. "You shouldn't have! They're so beautiful," she tells me as she takes them out of my hand. "How did you know roses are my favorite flower?"

"Oh, well..." I start. "We were at the park a few years ago, and you pointed out some roses in the garden there. You said they were beautiful and your favorite flower, and then I picked one out for you and you brought it home with you." I mentally slap myself in the face. You couldn't have just said that you randomly picked roses at the flower shop? Nope, you have to go and sound like a grade A stalker.