Lastly (L.T.)

Chapter 21

I heard a knock on my door while I was making myself dinner on Saturday. I didn't know whether to expect it would be Louis or not, he hadn't knocked on my door since the night he had Harry tell me the plan. I left my pot on the stove and padded towards the door, opening it shyly, not sure what to expect.

Sure enough, Louis stood there in a black suit with his hair slicked back looking absolutely amazing. I tried to keep my eyes on his face as I took in his clothing.

"Will you be busy tonight?" He asked like there was a chance that I had other plans and wasn't just waiting around for him.

He seemed to realize his mistake as he paused after he said it, frowning a bit.

"No did you have plans or something you wanted to go over?" I asked, unsure as to why he was here.

He scratched his hair at the base of his neck, looking strangely flustered. "The guys will be at the club tonight and they wanted to know if you'd be up for coming along?"

I couldn't contain the slow smile that crept up my face, "sure, I only have the one dress though," I pointed out. I still hadn't bothered to shop for anything other than groceries in the three days I'd been cooped up in my apartment.

Louis frowned in thought, and I found myself staring at the way his dark brows knit together. "I might have something," he said, "I'll be back in a minute."

"Okay." I nodded, watching him as he turned and walked back down the hall without another word.

I shut my door, completely confused over the strange interaction and silently wondering if it was Harry, Liam, and Niall who had asked if I was going. I returned to my pot, which was now boiling. I cracked the spaghetti noodles in half to make them shorter and stirred. It was barely five minutes before I heard someone rap at the door again.

"It's Tommo." I heard him say, and my back stiffened when he used the nickname he had introduced himself to me with. I had so far decided that Louis was a completely different person than the one I had slept with, but the use of the nickname sent a shiver down my spine at the foggy drunk memory as I opened the door.

He was holding a black tube top and a short flowy black skirt in his hands. I could tell just from looking at the material that they were expensive. He held the items out to me hesitantly and I took them, unsure of what to do.

"It's a few hours till dark, do you want to come in, I'm making dinner," I blurted out, mentally smacking myself in the forehead for how stupid I sounded.

Louis looked shocked, though he was trying to hide it. "Sure," he answered.

I held the door open and stepped back to let him in, feeling silly in my black leggings and tank top next to his crisp suit. He sat himself down at the bar behind the counter where I was cooking, facing me. I returned to stirring my pot, the awkwardness between us growing.

"Do you want help with anything?" He asked, breaking the silence.

"If you want to get the sauce out, I can start heating it up," I said, pulling a saucepan out and pointing to the fridge. Louis stood up, pulling off his suit jacket, and tossing it on his stool before walking over to the fridge.

He got the sauce out of the fridge and set it on the counter for me. He went searching for plates as I pulled the lid off the jar and accidentally bumped me as I poured so that some of the sauce slopped onto the counter.

"Watch it!" I cried, and I heard him chuckle.

He bumped me again, this time on purpose, so that more of the sauce spilled.

"Tommo!" I shouted, laughing.

He burst out laughing, proud of his mess. I hipchecked him in revenge and he only laughed harder. I couldn't help but laugh with him, he sounded so carefree.

It wasn't until we stopped laughing that I realized I had called him Tommo instead of Louis. I had no idea why I had done it, maybe because this carefree side of him seemed much more like the man I had known when I first met him.

I finally managed to get most of the sauce in the pot, though a considerable amount had ended up on the countertop. He hunted around the kitchen for plates and cups, and was distraught when he discovered I had no alcohol in the house. I finished the spaghetti while he ran back to his apartment for a bottle of wine.

I made the plates as he poured wine into drinking glasses, since the apartment had only come with a few dishes. We ate at the bar and mostly in silence, enjoying the fact that we could spend a few minutes of our lives away from the chaos of the gangs. It wasn't an awkward silence; more of a companionable one, where we both knew where we stood. I still had so many questions for him, but was happy to push them off to another time in order to save the moment.

As soon as we were finished eating, I brought my plate to the sink and Louis followed me, carrying his own dishes.

"I can clean those if you have somewhere you need to be." I said to him, breaking the silence after nearly half an hour.

He seemed a bit offended, "do you want me to leave?"

I surprised myself with my own answer, "no, of course not." I said bluntly, then wanted to smack myself again. I hated how much of an effect he had on me.

"Then I can help, love." He said unbuttoning and rolling up the bottom of his sleeves to help me with the dishes.