She's Not Afraid - A Louis Tomlinson Fanfiction

21-year old Louis Tomlinson is a normal college student studying at London University: He’s living a good social life with his four best friends, partying and making plans for his very near future. But then something new and unpredictable got pushed into the picture: Love. Before Louis knows it, he’s fallen for a girl that he barely knows - and she is basically the definition of a "wild child". As their relationship sprouts, he will have to face problems he had never dreamt of handeling before and feel the backside of the gold medal known as love: Betrayal, hatred, loss and misery. *Check out the trailer in the sidebar! :)*

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18. Chapter Seventeen

 

I dropped the dirty plates in the soap water and gently started rubbing off the breakfast’s leftovers with a kitchen swamp.

“Thinking about that you made the meal, it was actually a fair attempt of cooking,” I chuckled at Louis. His eyes widened until they were on the size of basketballs. “I know!” he exclaimed. “I should be on Masterchef.”

“Right, that’s where I’ll set the line. You’ll burn the kitchen down and end up killing people with a kitchen knife whilst trying to cut out onions.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Only if they provoke me.”

I smiled and lightly shook my head. Gosh, he was hopeless. “People can provoke you easily Lou, and we both know that.”

“Yes. Like you just did.” I stared uncomprehendingly at him. What was he talking about now? I hadn’t—

That’s when he broke off my thinking by locking his arms around me and started tickling me. I broke out laughing so loudly I might have broken his hearing ability. And I damned him. He knew how ticklish I was and which places to touch if he wanted to make me laugh my lungs out. “Stop it!” I screamed in between the laughs. “Stop!” He only kept on going with the tickling on my ribs and stomach. “What? Sorry, I can’t hear you!” he grinned. “What did she say again?” I fought to get out of his grasp, but his athletic arms were holding me too close and too strong fastened.

“Stop it, Lou!” I tried to say without laughing my head off and attempting to pull an earnest face. “I will not leave this house before we have finished the dishes!” My argue seemed to soften him a little bit up: In my favor he stopped tickling me, but he didn’t quite let me go. His arms were locked around my waist, holding me close to his muscular body and even closer to his handsome face … and his crazily kissable lips.

“You are going to stay here forever, then!” Louis’ voice made me snap out of my own little world and back to reality. I looked up at him to see him cheekily wiggling his eyebrows at me. “I can promise you we are going to have loads of fun.”

I playfully slapped his arm. “Ew, you’re such a pervert.”

“You know you like it,” he insisted.

“I hate it.”

“Take that back.”

“That’s not going to happen anytime soon.”

It didn’t look like him, but he seemed to give up on the silly discussion. He used to be so determined to win a fight, even if it was just a small and careless one, but today he was apparently feeling like doing the otherwise. “Well then, I’m just going to do the dishes,” he said without even pouting.

This didn’t look like Louis at all. Had an alien taken over his body throughout the night?

He placidly pushed me a few centimeters to the side, and took a glass down in the soap water to start cleansing it. Only he didn’t clean it; he threw the water in the glass right at me in stead.

“Are you going to take it back?”

I hated it when he was this cocky.

It was payback-time.

I quickly grabbed another glass and filled it with water, before throwing it right at him. It splashed on his chest and drenched his T-shirt to the bone. Maybe that would teach him a lesson: Never mess with Jessica Clarke when she is marginally annoyed.

I could see his face slowly heating up when he looked down at his soaked shirt. “Whoopsie,” I teased him with a pensive smile playing on my lips. He cupped his hands and filled them with the soap water. Just before he threw it at me, he grinned at me and said, “Oh, babe, you do not know what you have just gotten yourself into.” And that was the clue: We started throwing the dishing water at each other, which if you actually think about it, is kind of gross.

Soon the black linoleum floor around us was one big pool of water, but we didn’t seem to care. All that mattered to us in that moment was to win over the other—if there was ever going to be a winner. Even though the water was burning hot and gross, we were laughing our heads off over the fight. But in the middle of it all, my thoughts returned to my special sore point. Standing here and laughing with him like nothing was wrong didn’t feel right. 

I put a stop to the water fight as my body stiffened. 

I couldn’t hold it in any longer. He had to know.

“You told me those three special words.”

The silly grin on Louis’ face got wiped off within the moment the words had escaped my mouth. His lips parted slightly from each other, like he was surprised—and he probably was. When he had told me he loved me he had thought I’d been asleep.

For a short moment his forehead crinkled into an anxious grimace. And surprisingly, now I wanted to take my words back. It had never been my intention to see him like this. Maybe I should just have kept my thoughts to myself; maybe there was a story behind all of this I didn’t know of just yet?

Louis face softened up the second after, but I could still see the plain frown on his face.

He put the glass in his hands down on the kitchen table; it made a clinging, low sound and I looked down at it in a try of not to meet his stare. I tried to swallow the lump in my throat, as I heard him take the last few steps towards me. He cupped my head in his hands and I reluctantly moved my eyes from the kitchen table to meet his gaze.

“Well, guess what?” he silently said. “I meant them.” By the look in his eyes I was not in doubt that he spoke the truth; and even though I wasn’t showing it on the outside, I was slowly starting to panick.  

“I love you,” he said and gently caressed my cheek with his thumb.

I didn’t say a word. The thoughts in my head were too many and too overwhelming. When he told me that he loved me to my face, it felt even worse than the first time; like a punch in the stomach that hit all the air out of your lungs. To many girls this would not have been a big deal: To hear a guy say the words “I love you” for the first time, and they would easily be able to say it back. The thing is I’m different: In this case, I wouldn’t be able to tell it the guy back.

I wasn’t ready for this.

I wasn’t ready for getting committed to somebody by telling them I loved them.

“I love you, Jess,” Louis repeated himself. I still didn’t make a sound, and I could see that it was starting to impact him. “Please,” he whispered. “Just say something.”

I kept still.

“I need you to say something,” he begged.

I bit my lip and looked away from him in a try to hide the tears that were starting to form in my eyes. It was breaking my heart to hear him like this.

He let go of my head and abruptly started to pace around the floor. “So all of this was for nothing?” he asked me in a slightly raised voice. “Is that all that I am to you? A toy you can play around with?”

I couldn’t believe my own ears. Did he think I was only using him? I heard him mumbling a few words beneath his breath: “Well, maybe I am.” He stopped pacing the floor for a minute before staring in my direction. “The thing is, sooner or later either a toy gets lost or broken.”

“Why are you saying all of this?” I finally asked him in my heavy state of confusion. My voice was husky and shaky, like I had been crying. 

“Because I have been keeping this inside me for too long. It had to get out at some point, right?” he replied. “I want us to become an official thing, but you want us to stay under the covers. And I obey you.” He let out a snort.

I could understand why he was angry and why he was pouring out his feelings to me, but why did he have to do it now? Just thinking about that we had been having a ball a couple of minutes ago was strange.

Louis went on. “I tell you I love you, but you don’t say it back.” He tried to swallow the lump in his throat, but didn’t seem to succeed. His eyes were just as watered as my own as he was breathing heavily in and out a try to get control over himself.

I felt like crying. I was weak in fighting and had been ever since the Fletcher episode. Fighting tore me apart and here I was, fighting with the person I cared about the most. It was so wrong. And I wanted it to stop.

When I looked up at him again, I was surprised to see that he wasn’t mad anymore. All I could see was that he was in pain. The agony was showing itself all over his face, making me want to walk over to him and pull him in for a tight and warm embrace, assuring him that everything was going to be okay; only I couldn’t. 

The next few words that escaped Louis’ mouth left me breathless: “I can’t do this any longer.”

He turned around and walked to the front door with heavy footsteps, leaving it wide open as he excited the flat. I guess this was his spontaneous and offensive way of asking me to leave.

What made my heart ache was that the whole thing felt differently from the way it had with Fletcher.

This time, I knew I had brought it on myself.

 

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