Anonymous

Okay, maybe I overwhelmed him. But once I started asking questions, it was kind of hard to stop. There were quite a few things plaguing my mind, and he was the only one who could clear it up.

But from the confused look on his face, I probably asked too many at once. “Sorry,” I muttered.

“No, don’t be. I’m just going to answer one at a time. Okay?”

I nodded.

“Alright, so…why I made an account.” He stopped and bit his lip for a second. “God, this is going to make me feel pathetic. But I made an account just so that I could leave you a comment to let you know how much I liked your story. It was only supposed to be a one-time deal. And even though you didn’t know it was me, I thought maybe you’d feel good about someone new liking what you do enough to leave a comment.” He stopped and cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Sorry. I’m kind of a loser.”

“You’re not a loser,” I whispered. Then, remembering how Elena’s told me multiple times how shitty my computer’s microphone is, I repeated it louder. I had no idea how true that was or not, but I didn’t want to run the risk that he hadn’t heard me. How embarrassing that would have been. “You’re not a loser. I think that’s actually really sweet.”

“Thanks,” he laughed. “But I know you’re just being nice.”

He closed his mouth for a second before opening it again. But he didn’t have the chance to get a word out because I cut him off with, “Before you answer the next question, can you tell me one thing?”

“Sure,” he replied, although I almost didn’t hear him because I was too busy snickering over the fact that I just said one thing to Louis Tomlinson.

“What was it about my story that made you feel so obligated to comment on it? I’m sure you’ve read loads of stories, and yet you’ve never commented on them.”

In response to my question, Louis did something I never thought he would have: he blushed. “Are you really going to make me answer that?”

His embarrassment was catching, I realized as my face was enveloped in heat. But it just made me more curious as to what brought forth that reaction. “Uh, yeah. I want to know. It is my story, after all.”

“Alright, alright. I guess I owe you, since I kind of lied to you about who I was for over a month.” He sighed and shook his head. “But before I say anything, I just want to say that I’m trusting you. And I want your friend to leave. She doesn’t have to know.”

I looked up at Elena, who was staring at my quizzically. “I just want to say that he’s making me really suspicious right now.”

“Just do it,” I told her simply. “I’m not going to do anything dumb.”

“I dunno…” she trailed off teasingly. “It is Louis Tomlinson, the same guy you’ve been panting over since he was on that dumb talent show years ago.”

“Oh my God!” I screamed, covering where I thought the microphone was. Obviously, he knew that I loved him and the rest of the boys. But saying it aloud like that, knowing he could hear, was just mortifying. “Elena, get out.”

“Alright. I’m telling you, though, if he asks you to take off your shirt or any other article of clothing, maintain your innocence and dignity and just say no.”

Trying my hardest not to laugh, I picked up the shoe next to my chair and chucked it at her. Even though it landed about a foot short, she still pouted at me.

“Out!” I chuckled, and she finally listened.

“Okay, she’s gone,” I informed Louis, who looked highly amused. I got slightly embarrassed when it occurred to me that he probably heard everything, but I did my best to ignore it. “You can answer me now.”

“How do I know she’s actually gone?” At first, I thought it was a valid question, but the way his lips quirked up in the corner alerted me that he was teasing me, mimicking me.

But even so, I humored him, standing up and turning my computer around to show my entire room, thankful that I only put up one of my six One Direction posters. Who knew laziness would come in handy?

“Satisfied?” I asked jokingly.

“Yeah, okay. Now sit down. Even though we’re talking over the computer, you’re making me feel really short.”

I snickered, knowing that in real life, my five-foot frame would do nothing of the sort. But I sat down anyway. “Stop stalling,” I demanded, adjusting the computer screen so I could look at it without getting a double chin. “Tell me.”

Despite my urging, he still took his sweet time, rubbing his temples for a second before looking straight into the camera, almost as if he was staring straight through my soul. “Alright, this is going to sound really dumb, since I’m not even completely sure what made me do it. But I just love the way you portray me in the story. In most places, I’m just this perfect person with zero flaws ever, and it makes me feel inadequate. But in your story, you made me...human. Even though my character in the story was kind of an...idealized version of myself, he was still real. I loved that you saw me that way, and I kind of wished I was that person.”

There was a short silence, so he let out a chuckle to break it up. “Sorry. That sounds really pathetic.”

“It’s not pathetic at all,” I breathed. My eyes were itching like mad behind them, letting me know that at any moment, the tears would appear. “That’s really sweet, actually. I’m glad you like the way I portray you.”

“I love it,” he assured me. “Not like.”

“Okay,” I agreed.

There was another brief pause before Louis said, “Should I answer the other questions now?”

“Oh, yeah, go ahead.”

He started off into the distance for a second before turning back to the computer. “Okay, so your question was why I told you, right?”

I nodded, afraid that my voice would crack if I spoke. God, I had to get myself together.

“That one’s easy. I just felt like shit for not telling you and lying to you about who I was. I’m not one of those pedophiles who can easily fool people and not have any guilt about it.”

At his statement, the tears fled from my eyes, and I burst out laughing. “Oh my God. I’m so glad you’re not a pedophile. Thanks for clarifying that for me.”

He grinned his trademark smile at me. “You’re welcome. Always better to be safe than sorry, yeah?”

“Oh, of course,” I agreed. “After all, predators come in all shapes, sizes, and ages.”

“And any social status,” he added. “Just because in One Direction doesn’t mean that I’m not a creep.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I giggled. “So, um, last question?”

“I forget that one,” Louis admitted. “Sorry. They all got jumbled up in my head.”

“I asked what made you think I wasn’t going to blab to the tabloids about all of this.”

“Ooo, good question,” he muttered to himself. Or maybe it was to me. It was hard to tell.

“So? Are you going to answer it?”