Constant | Louis Tomlinson

[ COMPLETED ] ** CURRENTLY UNDERGOING EDITING DUE TO AMATEUR WRITING AND MISTAKES ** ||||| Tarin was a typical girl. She was enjoying her last year of high school, with her few close friends. She had never thought much about boys, she focused on her academics. With graduation only two months away, and university starting in four months, she had all her focus on her future career, that was until she met this boy. This boy who was like no other. This boy who would steal her heart. This boy who would change her life forever. ||||| Warning: There are scenes of sexual content, foul language, self-harm, drug use, underage alcohol use, and violence in this fan fiction. ||||| Louis Tomlinson ||||| Also can be found on wattpad, where I follow back

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10. 10

 

I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes, rolling over to look at my alarm clock. It was near two in the afternoon. Clearly I'd fallen back to sleep not long after my dream. Much to my disappointment, my dream of Louis hadn't continued. 

I rubbed my temples as my head still pounded, feeling dehydrated from my hangover. And then it all came back to me . . . my night of pure humiliation. The night that I threw myself at Louis after knowing him for a mere day, and him rejecting me. I hung my head in shame, remembering that Louis had messaged me late last night wanting to talk. I didn't want to deal with this. It was embarrassing as it was, and I didn't want to face him again.

Ugh. I hadn't regretted getting drunk. I needed to let loose. I hadn't regretted the dancing. That was the best part of the night. I just wish it hadn't been Louis I was grinding on. I wish the alcohol hadn't moved my muscles, reaching for Louis' hand and pulling him towards the bathroom. I blacked it out of my mind. I didn't want to think about my foolishness.

I dragged myself out of my bed, changing into sweats and a t-shirt and heading to the kitchen, grabbing a bowl of cereal, Tylenol and more water. I made my way back to my bedroom, placing the bowl, Tylenol and water on my desk near my laptop. 

I ate the Tylenol and began eating my cereal as I opened my laptop, pushing the power button. What should I say to Louis? Should I talk to him on Monday at school? I think I'd much rather text him or something. I didn't want to cause a scene at school when I'd yell at him for using me. Maybe I'll just send a message with my number.

When I logged into Facebook, I noticed I'd had another message. Another one from Louis. I opened it up and read what Louis had to say. 

 Louis Austin: Hey Tarin, whenever you can, text me.

A phone number followed the message.

Ugh, great. I ran over to the other side of my bedroom, grabbing my phone. I sat down at the desk once again, entering Louis' number into my phone.

 To Louis: Hey Louis, it's Tarin. You told me to text you...?

I pressed send. Maybe I should've said something else? Before I even had time to think it over I had an incoming call. I pressed the answer button as I placed it to my right ear, "uh hello?" I spoke into it awkwardly. I grabbed another spoonful of cereal as my caller spoke.

"Hey," I immediately recognized the voice.

"Son of a bitch," I swore, my mouth still full of cereal.

"Wait!" Louis says desperately. "Tarin, before you hang up . . . just let me explain, okay? I feel awful enough as it is, please don't hang up," he was pleading with me. I hear him sigh on the other end of the phone and I imagine he's running his hand through his hair frustratedly. 

"I don't need your pity Louis. It was a drunken mistake, now leave me the fuck alone." I spat. I was just about to push the end call button when I heard him speak again.

"Tarin wait. Please! Can I explain? Can I pick you up later and we talk about this. I think I know how you're feeling and I don't want you to feel like that. It's eating me up inside. Please. Just let me pick you up later. We'll go to the park and talk. Please." Louis was still pleading, and I felt awful for yelling at him when I heard the sincerity in his voice. It sounds like he's actually sorry for what happened last night. 

"O—okay Louis . . . but no funny shit, okay?" I squeaked out. I play with the cereal in the bowl in front of me aimlessly.

"Absolutely not love. I'll text you when I know when I can pick you up. And can you please send me your address?" His voice is soft and sweet on the other side of the line. 

"Yeah, sure Louis." I said simply.

"Okay, bye."

"I'll see you later." And with that, I hung up the phone, feeling completely uncertain about tonight.

 
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