Shift ☆ Louis Partridge

19 | Loving Louis

☆

[y/n]

_

WE WERE MAKING THE MOST OF FOREVER.

It seems dismal, that word, like something fragile made to be broken—but being with him makes me feel like it's true. I love every moment I see his face, and I hate every moment I'm away.

Monica and Heather nearly threw a fit when I broke the news to them, and they didn't speak to me for an hour out of shock. I still remember the googly-eyed look on their faces; a combination of a jack-in-a-box and a cabbage patch kid.

I met Millie through a facetime call a few days ago, and she basically ranted at Louis the entire time for wasting her time ("you could have just asked her, you bloody idiot, I spent hours doing research on mind control for nothing!").

But despite all the little nuggets of memories, I had three favorites. More was to come sure, but when I reminisce on where we are, all I can think about are these:

─ ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─

"WOAH, WOAH, WOAH," Louis laughed, nearly falling off the bench, "we aren't in a rush!"

We had planned to see a play at the Globe Theatre for fun—midsummers, I think—and we lost track of time on the way there. My boyfriend was complaining about his thirst, so we stopped to get tea, but then we realized we had 10 minutes to travel twelve blocks to get to our destination.

So, yes, we were in a rush.

"Don't drink your tea so quickly," he said, pulling me along the pavement, "if you do that, you'll end up getting—"

I cut him off when a loud hiccup escaped my lips.

"Those," he grinned, "exactly what I meant."

I slapped a hand over my mouth, trying to suppress the feeling of bubbles in my throat. I knew that if I covered my airflow, I'd just internalize the noises, and if I didn't, then they'd be louder than a phone on full blast (okay, exaggeration, but still).

"Sorry," I said sheepishly, dodging a stroller, "but we're going to be late!"

Louis squeezed my hand. "That doesn't mean you have to chug an entire mug of tea!"

"I panicked!"

"Stop panicking!"

"I would if—" I began to say, before another hiccup escaped, "never mind."

Letting go of his hand, I stopped in the middle of the pavement, digging my eyes into the ground as I tried to focus. Stop hiccuping, stop it, I told myself, this is embarrassing. It was, really, even though I knew Louis wasn't one to judge.

I saw him double back from my peripheral vision, but I was far too focused to notice the smirk on his face.

"What are you doing?" He asked slyly.

I narrowed my eyes at the concrete. "Trying to get rid—hic!—of my hiccups."

"Doesn't seem to be working."

"Now is not the time for sarcasm, this is of dire importance."

"Tewks."

"Not now, Lou."