Closer

Laurel was working as a manager in a small coffee house in downtown London. She was finishing school and trying to decide what she wants to do with her life. She was young and impressionable and she was worried that she would make the wrong choice and realize it years later when it was too late. In short, Laurel was a worrier.

She also worked too hard, when she wasn’t in class she was at the coffee shop. The only time she really spent at her flat was to sleep or do homework. This was the reason that she stumbled across someone who would change her life. Had she chosen to take the day off, she probably never would have made the chance encounter. She didn’t believe in fate but it seemed that fate believed in her. In her experience at the coffee shop, she was able to carry at five cups at one time. She thought this was a great talent that demonstrated her incredible coordination.

But what Laurel had in coordination she lacked in attention span. Often when she was walking she found herself zoning out and running into things. It was a nasty habit, but it rarely got her in trouble. People tended to move out of her way so she never had to worry about it. On this particular day in May, Laurel's habit got the best of her.

It was a busy day and Laurel felt as if she had been running around the shop since she got there. As the manager, when things went wrong, distraught employees came to her to resolve the issue. So when multiple things go wrong during the lunch rush, Laurel was stressed out and flustered. There was something off about that day, but Laurel brushed the thought aside. These things happen, everyone has bad days.

Maybe it was the way the sun shone through the windows just right as to momentarily blinding her. Maybe it was because she was moving to fast. Maybe it was because the caramel haired man was looking at his phone in the exact moment that Laurel lost her ability to see. Maybe it was because the man was oblivious to what was happening and chose to take as step at the exact moment Laurel's eyes squeezed shut. Maybe it was fate, maybe it was coincidence, but either way, Laurel and the man went tumbling to the ground.

The five ceramic mugs that she had in her hand shattered around her and she let out a yelp of surprise. The man she took down with her caught himself on his hands before he crushed her underneath him. She opened her eyes at the exact moment he did. She gasped out of embarrassment and shock. They were so close their noses brushed. And when he said his first words to her, they fanned across her face, the smell mint and fresh coffee filling her senses.

"Excuse me." He breathlessly. The girl below him as gaping, her mouth hanging open and her eyes wide. There were shards of useless cups all around them and puddles of useless coffee seeping into their clothes. Great. Just great. She thought to herself. Not only was this person some innocent bystander, but he was Louis Tomlinson. One of the most famous lads in the world. She had just run over and spilled coffee on Louis Tomlinson.

"Um, right." She said much to her dismay. Not only did she knock some innocent bystander over, but also he was beautiful, and she looked like an idiot in front of him. But her brain couldn’t produce anything more for her to say. The man above her winced in pain and rolled off her, still sitting on the ground. He chose to ignore the fact that he was sitting in a puddle of coffee.

"Oh my god!" Laurel cried. The man flinched at the urgency of her voice. He worried he had been discovered. His hair was mostly covered in a beanie and a pair of plain sunglasses hung from his shirt. She grabbed his hands in hers. There were small cuts on his palms, thanks to the broken cups that he fell on. The man shook his head at his injured hands, a smile creeping onto his lips. "You're bleeding!"

"I am." He confirmed. Laurel stood up quickly and took his bicep in a firm grip, pulling him off the ground after her. She was biting her lip and blushing at the stares they were getting from the other customers.

"One of you clean this up please." She said to the employees behind the counter who were laughing heartily at her expense. Their laughing ceased when they realized they had to clean it up. "Come on." She beckoned the man, still holding his arm. She lead him to a small hallway where the restrooms were located. There was another door that read "employees only." She pushed the door open and pulled him inside.

"I'm fine." The man told her, holding his hands out gingerly, trying not to upset the cuts.

"I don't care how you are, you're bleeding right now." She replied and opened up a cabinet. The man laughed at her response and watcher her with careful eyes as she finally retrieved the first aid kit. "I'm so sorry. I never watch where I'm going." She said to him.

"Its okay, really. No harm done. Except for my shirt. I really liked this shirt." He said sadly, looking down at his crisp white t-shirt that was now ruined. Laurel scrunched up her nose, realizing that it was her fault that his clothing was ruined. She pushed his shoulder, forcing him to sit in a chair. That man made a surprised noise as he fell into a sitting position.

Laurel grabbed his hand and opened up the first aid kit. She ripped open a disinfectant wipe and started cleaning out the cuts. The man yelped at the sting and tried to pull his hand away, but Laurel held it tight.

"Jesus! Are you trying to kill me now?" The man complained, still squirming in her grip.

"It doesn’t hurt that bad." She rolled her eyes. She dropped his hand and reached for the other one, repeating the same process.

"What’s you're name?" He asked her. She looked up from his hands and raised an eyebrow at him.

"Gonna try and get me fired?" She asked with a smirk.

"No. Just want to know the name of the lovely girl that publicly humiliated me." He replied in the same tone. Her face fell slightly at his teasing.

"Laurel. Laurel Rutherford." She informed him. He nodded.

"I'm-" He began to introduce himself but she cut him off with a laugh.

"I know who you are. Every girl in England knows who you are." She told him, still giggling. She threw the soiled wipe in the trashcan and pulled some gauze from the kit, placing it over the deepest gash in his palm.

"Well. I'm Louis." He said anyway.

"Hi, Louis." She said.

"Hi, Laurel." He said with a cheeky smile. She was finished now, his right hand sporting a large white bandage and his left with several small band-aids on his fingers. "Thanks for nursing me. I might have bled out otherwise."

"Its the least I could do." She grumbled, ignoring the fact that he was kidding. "Let me get you a new shirt." She said, pointing at his soiled shirt.

"No need. I'll just have to run home and change." He said shaking his head at her offer.

"Please? I ruined it, let me make it up to you." She begged him.

"Well, this is something you can do for me..." He trailed off and studied her face. She was looking at him expectantly, waiting for a request. "Have dinner with me."

Laurel sighed. The small shop didn’t feel right anymore. It didn’t feel right without Louis in her life. This coffee shop was where she met him and now he wasn’t here anymore and Laurel could barely wrap her brain around it.

She was so excited when she bought the shop. She liked having something to do while Louis was away. Laurel liked to be busy, no matter what she was going through. But just like everything else in her life, nothing felt right without Louis.