Labels || H.S. [#Wattys2020]

NINETEEN

Thanks to her wonderful photographic memory, Reagan was able to drive straight to the private beach she had come to love so much. She didn't really know whether she should—especially without Harry—but after having heard Lydia yell at Louis for going out too much too often, she figured he wouldn't even be home anyway. To be honest, if the past three weeks had been any indication it would be a miracle if Louis had even slept in his own bed in the past month. And if he wasn't home, well, he wouldn't notice that Reagan was on his property.

She managed to walk the entire shoreline and the sun almost finished setting as she sat down upon the warm sand. She had picked up her hair into a messy bun and stopped caring what she looked like at that point. She had left the house in a pair of tattered shorts and a hoodie, far too tired to even try. Actually, she came to the conclusion that if she was going to be by herself, she should try her damned hardest to like herself no matter what. It was weird of course, but it felt nice to sit upon the sand, wearing something that wasn't constricting and that was actually comfortable.

For some odd reason though, it felt as if someone was watching her. It wasn't that constant feeling that she typically had, the one where she was being overly self-conscious and actually thought people were judging her, no, it was a scary type of different. Her eyes darted around and that's when she saw a figure coming towards her. She couldn't make out the face, nor the body, all she knew was that it was a man. She cursed herself for always refusing to wear her glasses and swore that if she got out of this alive she would always carry them around.

It was a private beach, but it was easily accessible, that meant anyone could have entered. She was debating whether to run or not when the figure called out, "Funny, they said this beach was private. Going to have to call the Realtor..."

She sighed out in relief as she saw Louis step into the light of the moon that finally showed her his crinkling eyes and wide smile.

"You scared the shit out of me." She mumbled, grasping her chest.

"I scared you? You're the one trespassing." He said with a smirk.

"Point taken."

He sat down and patted the sand next to him. Reluctantly she sat with him, watching the waves crash and the moon shine upon the water.

"You're actually home." She said after a few moments of silence.

"Yeah, well, Lydia said I was ruining the band's reputation by getting papped at clubs and parties every night of the week."

"Didn't think you would listen."

"Neither did I." He turned to look at her and asked, "What are you doing here, Reagan Bailey?"

She smiled, Louis had said he loved the way her entire name sounded and she couldn't get him to stop calling her by her whole name now. It seemed no one respected that Reagan just wanted to be called Reagan. She had to admit though, she kind of loved that the boys each had their own ways of addressing her, it made her feel as if she belonged.

"I don't know. I just wanted somewhere that made me feel okay."

He nodded, "I need one of those places."

"You don't have one?"

He shrugged, "I used to. Back in England, it was the little clearing behind my mum's house."

"Sounds like Harry's place." She said, recalling how Harry had said it was his favorite place in the entire world, "Is it a British thing? Do you guys like clearings that much?"

He shoved her arm, "It's different from Harry's. His connects to a forest, mine is just like meadow."

"Okay. But what about here? Don't you have a place here?"