Apathetic |[D.S]| 1

2. "nice socks"

I know he's tall and he's fit
But I won't fall for it
Don't want his hands
Or his lips coming near me
Cause he's a fuckboy
...

Lou's POV

"Hi?" I gulp, "can I help you?" I sound so pathetic. God, I need to straighten up. I have to let things go and just act natural. Every guy can be just as attractive as this guy is. Besides he can't be the only one who looks like this.

I lean against the side of the door hitting the knob against my hip then trying not to whimper or wince from the pain. Ugh, who knew I could be so clumsy? Well at least on the other side I'm not being mean to him.

He hasn't said anything yet but his eyes are telling me he's looking at me. Morley down or away from my face or eyes.

Is he checking me out? No, no there's no way. Nope, not gonna believe it. Nor do I want too.

I'm only wearing a baby blue ribbed long sleeve shirt with jean shorts. That's my outfit not including my hair or my shoes but those aren't really "eye-catching" either.

Is it the way I smell?

I don't smell bad, do I? God if I could put my arm up to smell if I put deodorant on today I would...but I'm too scared he's gonna make a move. He's still looking down so technically I could do it. I try leaning my arm up against the door but his words cut my actions off.

"Nice socks," he breathlessly chuckles looking down at my feet as he runs his hand through his hair, shaking it then putting his hand on his chin, his fingers pulling and playing with his bottom lip. It rests between his index finger and thumb as he pinches it together. While he's doing that I look down and notice the mix-matched pair.

Are you kidding me? Today I just had to pick my socks out in the pitch-black darkness of my room? I remember putting them and my white sneakers back on in the car but I didn't think it was that big of a deal.

Goddamnit, why did I decide to take my shoes off in here? I can literally see them from where I'm standing by the door. Fuck you Nike Airs. Fuck you.

"Thanks for the compliment is that all you came here to say?" I roll my eyes getting annoyed as I rub my hand on my hip soothing the somewhat pain that it's still feeling. I begin to close the door slowly since he doesn't say anything but the second it almost closes it doesn't.

I look down and his foot is blocking it from closing. His shoes are black boots laced up like high tops.

"Is Kayla here yet?" He asks his eyes finally connecting to mine. He's like one of those rich white kids. Blonde hair, blue eyes. Mr. Perfect and please sit on my lap. Ugh, fuckboy's probably got a girlfriend named Kayla.

"No," I sigh trying to keep my temper down, "can you move your foot please," I say opening the door wider so he doesn't have to wedge it through. He stands straight again like he's waiting at the door.

His eyes watch me as I give him a stern look tilting my head to the side trying to figure out his profile and picture. He hasn't said much to me and I don't even know his name. I don't want to ask because he'll probably not tell me and if I tell him mine he's gonna make fun of it as Porter does.

I close the door slowly and as soon as it locks I let out a breath that I didn't know I was holding in. I turn my around letting my back hit the door as I rest for a quick second and then I look down.

I take my socks off, feeling ashamed even though I shouldn't give a fuck about what a random guy thinks of them. At least my feet are warm!?