Broken Dreams {One Direction}

Chapter Four {Let It Snow, Let It Snow}

Hey guys, it's Samm (Directionlover123), Tally's friend, and I'm going to upload Broken Dreams every Wednesday; so reach your goal by Wednesday. So yeah, and read ahead; and I'll uh, yeah, peace!

Chapter Four

{Let It Snow, Let It Snow}

*Ryan’s POV*

            “Snow, bitch, snow. S-N-O-W. SNOW.” I shout at the sky, rolling my eyes. It’s a tad bit dark but it’s been this way all day.

                “No, don’t!” Louis screams, leaning against the railing. I cross my arms over my chest and shake my head at him.

                “Ass.” I mutter, hurrying back inside Simon’s house.

                “No! It’ll ruin our date.” Louis groans, hurrying in after me.

                “No it won’t!” I growl, turning on my heel.

                “Yes it will.”

                “No it won’t.”

                “Yes it will.”

                “No it won’t.”

                “Shut the fuck up, you two.” Niall barks and I smirk.

                “Go get ready.” Louis orders me and I stick my tongue out at him. Asshole.

*

*One Direction*

*

                Louis takes the piece of cloth off of my eyes. He had tied it there in the car, claiming I can’t know our destination until we get there. When I look around, my mouth drops.

                We’re at the Eiffel Tower.

                “Oh, it’s beautiful.” I sigh as Louis’ arm wraps around my waist.

                “We’re going up there.” Louis laughs, pointing to a part of it.

                On the elevator ride up, my stomach has butterflies. Louis’ fingers are tangled with mine, pulling me as close to him as he could manage. When the elevator opens, I notice that no one is up here. It’s around five, for gawd’s sake! Why wouldn’t anyone be up here? Then, I start to think and narrow my eyes at Louis.

                “How is this place empty?” I raise an eyebrow at him.

                “I… I, uh, kind of, you know, have connections.” Louis stutters out, his face bright red. When I go to look over the edge, he grabs my hand. I sigh, looking at him.

                “Why can’t I look?” I pout.

                “You’ll have to wait. Now, sit.” Louis points to the table and I sit in one of the chairs, Louis sitting across from me. He takes out his iPhone, turning something on. With a sigh, he starts to sing.

                “You and I go hard at each other like we're going to war.

You and I go rough, we keep throwing things and slamming the door.

You and I get so damn dysfunctional, we stopped keeping score.

You and I get sick, yeah, I know that we can't do this no more.