Hated (A 1D fanfic)

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  • Published: 1 May 2013
  • Updated: 19 Feb 2014
  • Status: Complete
Sawyer hates the thought of school simply because they are there.
Yep, the thought of them gives her chills.
Who am I talking about?
The one and only Louis Tomlinson and his girlfriend Stacey Porter.


23. Lips

We sat in the laundry room for at least half an hour, tears running down his face, my hands in his.

"Louis, it's okay." I sigh, keeping in the tears.

"No, it really isn't. This is my fault." He says, looking into my eyes.

"It was a while ago, Louis. I'm in a better place now." I say, and he nods. "And you know what? That's your fault, too."

He smiles a little, and so do I. "I'm passing all of my classes, and I'm happy. Sure, I have scars. But everybody does, some just aren't visible. Mine are a reminder, really. They remind me that I can't let myself ever get back to that place."

He nods, and I stand up, pulling him up with me. "Are you okay?" He asks, chewing on his lip. "I mean, really okay?"

"I am, I promise. But are we good now? All of that shit, its in the past. Time to forget it." I say, smiling at him. He wipes his eyes, and smiles back.

"Yeah, but you have to promise me something, Sawyer." He says, and I nod. "Never, ever do that again."

I sigh, and agree. "Now that we've laid it all out on the table, we're good."

"Of course, love. Now lets go up stairs and study." He replies, and we walk up to his room to work.

*Louis's point of view*

We walk upstairs to my room, and she sit down on the edge of my bed. I sit, too, and she looks over at me frowning. "Louis, I don't want to study." She says, messing with her fingers. She'd gotten her cast off a few days ago, and she wasn't really used to her hand being free. 

"Then what do you want to do?" I ask.

"We've already spent a lot of our time already, so lets just talk." She suggests, and I nod.

"Okay, sounds good." I say,  "So I've known you since the day I moved here, and I barely know anything about you."

"Well, what do you want to know?" She asks, smiling.

"Everything." I grin, and she laughs.

"Well, here we go." She says, crossing her legs and sitting Indian Style. "I was born Texas in February, 1992. I went to preschool and kindergarden over there, and I was diagnosed with ADHD when I was about five years old. We moved up here right before first grade, and I met Clay. He was my neighbor, and we were best friends right away. I was really into soccer, so I played it all the time. We moved across town when I was about ten, but Clay and I were still best friends."

She pauses for a moment, then continues. "Then freshman year, my parents died in a car crash. It was terrible. I, I didn't know how to handle it. It drove me crazy, and it killed me inside, and I didn't understand why it had to be me. But then one day, I just decided that I'd get over it. I started playing soccer again, and I started trying again in life." She sighs. "And then you moved here, and I guess you know the rest of the story."

"Oh." I say, nodding. "Tell me more, though. What's your favorite color? Why don't you play football anymore? What's that scar under your ear from? Why do you smoke those cigarettes?"

"Okay, so I guess I'll tell you everything else. I'm 17, and I'm allergic to cats. I love the gray and dark green, but not together. I've had six casts, and I've broken around seventeen bones, but I didn't go to the doctor about most of them. I got a concussion when I was eight, and I couldn't really remember anything for about a week. My cousin had been driving us in a golf cart, and it flipped. The scar under my ear is from where me and Clay were playing mercy, a game where you slap each other in the back of the neck and on the inside of the fore arm with a ruler until someone says mercy, and he missed, hitting me under the ear with the corner. I decided not to play soccer this year since I really hated everything, and I don't like cheese or milk, they make my stomach hurt." She says, then stops to think for a moment. "I'm afraid of silence, spiders, and airplanes. I guess I smoke to block stuff out, and I used to be right handed, but I broke my right hand when I was learning to write, so I had to switch to left and I just stayed left handed. That's why my handwriting is so shitty. I've always wanted to learn how to play the guitar, and I used to take Clay's and play it upside down. I play Call of Duty with Clay a lot, and I'm really good at playing the piano."

She looks at me, and nods to herself, "Yeah, I guess that's everything about me." 

"You're an interesting person, love." I say, and she smiles at me, giving me a light shove.

"I know what you mean by that. You're saying that I'm crazy." She laughs.

"Well, everyone needs a bit of crazy in their lives. You're my crazy." I say.

"You do know what that means, right?" She asks, and I shake my head 'no'. "That means you have to be my little bit of crazy. And I believe you're doing a pretty damn good job of it." She said, motioning down to my shirt. 

"Yeah, my bad." I say.

"It's okay. It's just a sweater. No big deal." She laughs. 

While she laughs, I look down at her, and smile. 'What?" She asks.

"Its just, when I came here, I was so terrible to you, and I don't even know why. I just saw that you were different, and you were okay with it, and I didn't understand. I didn't even take a moment to try to get to know you." I sigh, and she wraps her arms around my torso. 

"But you know me now. I'm Sawyer Prescott, and I can't sing worth a shit." She says, and I put my arm around her shoulders. 

"I guess that's true." I say. "I wish I'd taken a second to actually meet you, though. Then maybe we could have been friends sooner." And then I think, maybe even more than friends.

Of course, Stacey and I broke up awhile ago. She was a bitch, and I never really liked her. She was mean as a snake, and for some reason, her main goal in life was to ruin Sawyer. After Sawyer started coming over and we started to get along, Stacey got unbearable. 

"Yeah." She agrees. "But you're a pretty big loser, so...." She teases, trailing off.

"Oh, shut up." I laugh, and she turns to me, looking into my eyes. 

At that moment, I felt it. I don't know what 'it' is, but I like it. I look back into her eyes, and slowly lean in, lightly pressing my lips against hers. After a moment, we both pull back, and she  looks up at me, grinning.

"Well uh, that was nice." She says, and I laugh. 

"EWW!" I hear a little girl squeal. I look over, and Daisy was standing in my doorway, her homework in hand. 

Sawyer laughs, and I roll my eyes. "Daisy, don't tell mum, okay?" I ask, and she nods. "I'll help you in just a little while." She ran off, and I knew she was going to tell Phoebe. 

I turn to Sawyer, and say, "So, um."

"Oh, just kiss me again, Lou." She said, wrapping her arms around my neck and leaning in. I laugh, but obey.


**Okay you guys, please do not hate me. I know I haven't been updating very much, but that's because I've been really busy with school, cheer, track, theatre, yearbook, and knee problems!! I tore my MCL a year or so ago, and with all the pressure I've been putting on my knee lately, it hasn't been talking it very well. 

Anyway, please like, favorite, comment, and fan!! If I get a lot, I'll try to update asap!!

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