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You took a deep breath and got into the car. The car you’d helped Louis pick out. Where you used to feel at home, with his hand on your knee listening to “this great song I just found!” You settled your backpack between your feet and pulled the seatbelt across you. You kept your eyes down, focused on the run in your tights.

That’s where all your bad luck had begun. The run in your tights, that is. You had been running to catch the train for school when you walked too close to a bench and got caught on a nail. Your rough luck continued when you knocked over your friend’s coffee. You were cautious after the coffee incident because bad things came in threes, right? You went to catch the last train home when it had started to pour. The rain didn’t usually bother you, but your jacket did little to prevent the cold water from making you feel damp and cold all the way through. You just wanted to get home and crawl into your bed and pretend that this day had never happened. You heard the conductor’s voice come through the PA system. You couldn’t really understand what he was saying, but you heard something about a delay and then everyone started to leave the platform. You pulled your jacket tight and started out into the rain with everyone else. The walk would take about 25 minutes and then you’d be home. As you were walking down the street, a car drove past and splashed a huge puddle onto you and the people around you. 

You walked there without even thinking. It was half a block away and you were cold. You were nearly at the house when you saw his car pulling out of the garage. You froze, suddenly so unsure of why you’d thought it would be okay to come here. He shifted the car into drive and started the car towards you. He slowed when he saw you at the gate, probably wondering who was trying to get to his house. You cursed yourself and took a step towards the street. He rolled his window down. “And to what do I owe this honour?” He smiled at you.

“I’m not really sure how I ended up here, but it was closer than home and the train isn’t coming and I was cold and you’re busy, so I’ll just walk home.” You shrugged. 

“You’re mad if you think I’m letting you walk home in this.” He shook his head. You heard him unlock the doors. 

“No, Louis, I’ll be okay.” You shook your head. “It’s only like 10 blocks home. It’s not raining that hard.” 

He raised an eyebrow at you. “Get in the car.” He said, monotone. You opened your mouth to protest again, “I’m not letting you get sick out here. Get in. Seriously? 10 blocks in the rain?” His tone was firm. Your last bit of resolved slipped away when you felt an icy bead of water go down your spine. You walked to the passenger side and got in the car. You took in your surroundings. There was a coffee cup with lipstick in one of the cup holders and you felt like all the air was knocked out of your lungs. You looked away immediately. You fished through your backpack for you phone with shaking hands. You tried to play it off as cold. A simple starbucks cup shouldn’t illicit this response from you. You tried to focus on the text message from your friend about an assignment you were working on together, but out of the corner of your eye you could see the crimson colour on the lip of the stupid Solo lid. Solo, ironic, you thought to yourself. Louis wasn’t “solo” anymore. You were, though. 

Since the phone was proving to be a terrible distraction, you trained your eyes out the window. You catalogued all the landmarks between your houses. It had been 8 months since you’d been down these streets; you’d been avoiding them and the memories you had here. There was the blue and pink flower pot where Louis had picked a flower out of the pot to stick into your hair. A cheesy gesture then, but now it made your heart hurt because Louis was probably doing these same adorable things with this new red-lipsticking wearing girl. Did he hold her close on days like this, like he used to do with you? Was he on his way there now?

Stop. You needed to stop. You had been doing so well. You were dealing with the split. You had caused it. It had never been a question of whether or not he loved you, but instead, if the love, that seemed almost suffocating sometimes, was healthy. He went away for a month to tour and you literally felt like a part of you was missing because even making sure that you had all your fingers and toes didn’t fill that void. When he came home, you explained how lost you’d felt. You described it like the buzz of the tattoo gun and the sting of the needle. You put up with both because you knew it would be worth it in the end, but there were points where it hurt so much you wanted to cry. You told him you didn’t want him to be like getting a tattoo; the annoyance you put up with in hopes that everything would turn out just right. He was quiet while you spoke and after you stopped, he let his head drop. He agreed that maybe things were too much. You tried to remain calm as he told you he loved you and that maybe it was best if the two of you ended things. 

“There’s our bench.” He said so quietly you weren’t sure if it was his voice playing in your head or him talking out loud. You chanced a glance at him and the slight frown on his lips made your heart hurt. He didn’t get to be sad about it being over if he was with someone else. You heard yourself scoff and looked back down. “What?”

“Nothing.” You tried nonchalance.

“Am I not allowed to remember things?” He tested, annoyance clear in his voice. You remained quiet. “If I recall correctly, I was like a tattoo gun.” His tone was sharp and took you by surprise.

“Who is she?” You kept your eyes focused on your index finger as you toyed with the hold on your knee. 

“Who is who?” He asked after a second. You lifted your hand and pointed at the cup, certain that your voice would fail you. “Are you serious?” His voice came out as a laugh. You looked up at him as your eyebrows drew together. 

“No, you’re right. I don’t get to have that information anymore.” You said after you felt less shaky. You just wanted this ride to be over. 

“Do you really think I’d move on that fast?” He pulled the car over. You kept your eyes down and tried to slow your heart down. “No really, do you?” The hurt in his voice pulled the bits of your heart that he still held, would always hold, to the front. 

You lifted your head and looked over at him. His eyes met yours and all you wanted to do was get that look of pain off of his face. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be over you.” He admitted, looking down at the cup. “It’s Lottie’s… If you care.” 

“You’re just saying that because you know it’s what I want to hear.” You sighed. 

“No,” His tone firm, “I’m saying that because it’s true. I’ve been miserable for the last 8 months so I’ve been going home whenever I can. And this week was particularly tough because of how busy everything is, so she surprised me and came here yesterday and brought me coffee and made me calm down. I saw you on Monday and you were sitting at a coffee shop with some guy and I almost blew off plans with Niall to drive home. Niall talked me down.” He looked down, “And you thought I was seeing someone.”

You thought back to monday. You’d been having coffee with your friend’s boyfriend. He’d been wondering what to get her for her birthday so you offered to help him look. “I can’t believe you’d be mad at me for dating someone when you’ve already moved on.” You heard him mutter.

“Do you think I walked to your house today because I was dating someone?” You snapped back. “Why wouldn’t I have just called him to come get me? But no, I got soaked in the rain in hopes that you’d be able to help me.” You took your seatbelt off, determined to get out of the car. 

“No.” Louis said as you reached for the door handle. “I’m sorry.” You sat back in the seat. “God! How do you always do this to me?”

“This is why we broke up.” You whispered. “We drive each other crazy.” 

“Yeah, but I never had a problem with you driving me crazy.” He sneered. “You seemed to think it was a bad thing, but I am so in love with you at even when you make me so made I could scream, I still want you right next to me.”

“You were so in love.” You corrected, dreading what it would mean if he were still in love with you.

“Am still.” He refuted. “Madly.” He lifted his shoulders and looked down at his hand. You trained your eyes on the side of his face and bit your lip, thinking it over in your head. Before you knew what you were doing, you were halfway over the centre console with no hopes of going back. You grabbed the back of his neck and pulled his face to yours. The kiss started a little awkwardly as Louis was taken off guard but you quickly found your rhythm and he was matching your movements, leaning back to grant you more room. 

“Are you really still in love with me?” You asked, struggling to breathe normally. 

“Yes.” He said, pulling you back to him.
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xx.