One Direction One Shots
Louis Tomlinson 15
I was laying on my back in the grass, soaking up the sun and the quiet. I knew no one would find me here; that’s why I loved it so much. I had found this little place a couple years ago, when I was just going for a walk and had gotten lost in the woods. It was a little clearing with a small lake in the middle, and soft grass and little flowers everywhere.
Lately I’d been coming here a lot. My parents were always fighting, then as soon as they could see me they’d let it all out on me. I hated it, and having them always blame everything on me didn’t help me with the fact that I hadn’t gotten accepted to any colleges. I’d applied to a bunch-but I’d only gotten three replies, which all said I hadn’t been accepted. I like to be alone when I was upset, which is another reason why I love coming here.
“Hope?”
I sighed. Of course. There was always that one person who knew I was here, who could find me anywhere. I had showed him this spot one day when I was really upset and just wanted to get away from everything.
But wait…he was on tour with his band. He was supposed to be in Australia right now, wasn’t he? It was a six month tour and the last time I had seen him was…six months ago. Wow. With a start, I realized that it was the 18th; the day that he came home to Doncaster.
“Hope?” He called out again. I could hear his footsteps getting closer.
I sat up in the grass, trying to make myself presentable. I had been in love with him for two years, (even though he didn’t know it and would never love me back) and I didn’t want him to see me for the first time in six months looking a mess.
He stepped into the clearing right as I stood up. He looked perfect as always: His brown hair swept to one side on top of his head, his bright blue eyes twinkling. He wore a red and blue striped shirt with skinny jeans and toms. Suspenders hung from his waist.
His mouth turned into a huge grin as his eyes landed on me. “Hope!” He called, running over and pulling me into a big hug, lifting me off my feet. I wrapped my arms around his neck, breathing in his scent. I had missed him so much.
Louis. That’s right-THE Louis Tomlinson, from One Direction. He and I had met when we were both eight, when my family moved to Doncaster and we were neighbours with the Tomlinson’s. Louis and I were immediately best friends.
He set me down and pulled away to look away at me, his hands still on my waist. “How are you? I’ve missed you so much!”
“I missed you too!” I said. “How was the tour?”
We sat down in the grass and talked about the tour, and Louis told me a bunch of stories about the other boys. I missed them too. Louis had introduced us a couple weeks before the tour, and I got along well with all of them.
“But what about you?” he asked. “How’s everything been here at home?”
“Nothing new,” I said, looking around. “You know. Same old, same old.”
“Hope,” he said softly. I didn’t look at him. I knew that if I did, if I saw the worry in his eyes, I would break. Just like I always did around him.
But he brought his hand up to my chin and turned my head to face him. He said two words, soft but demanding: “Tell me.”
And I did. I told him about my parents, the college thing, even about the little things in school that were slowly but surely driving me towards the edge. He listened intently, his eyes on mine the whole time.
We stayed there for hours, just talking and fooling around. By the time the sun had started to set and it was getting darker, we were lying side by side in the grass. The conversation had died down into a comfortable silence.
I turned to look at him as he was looking up at the stars. I studied his beautiful profile; his long eyelashes, the small stubble around his mouth, the line of his jaw. He was just so…perfect.
He turned to look at me. I blushed and smiled, then turned to look back up at the sky. I could feel his eyes still on me.
“You’re beautiful,” he suddenly whispered.
I turned back to him, shocked. “What?”
“I said,” he said, moving so that he was on his side, leaning on his elbow so he could look down on me, “you are so, so beautiful.” His eyes were burning into mine.
I didn’t say anything; I didn’t know what to say. Suddenly his gaze flickered to my lips and back up. He leaned forward a little, then some more. His eyes questioned mine. When I didn’t object, he leaned in and pressed his lips to mine. They were soft and warm. He pulled away way too soon and just looked at me.
“What was that for?” I asked.
He laughed softly. “Hope, I love you. I have for a very long time, and being away on tour made me realize just how much.”
“I love you too.”
Lately I’d been coming here a lot. My parents were always fighting, then as soon as they could see me they’d let it all out on me. I hated it, and having them always blame everything on me didn’t help me with the fact that I hadn’t gotten accepted to any colleges. I’d applied to a bunch-but I’d only gotten three replies, which all said I hadn’t been accepted. I like to be alone when I was upset, which is another reason why I love coming here.
“Hope?”
I sighed. Of course. There was always that one person who knew I was here, who could find me anywhere. I had showed him this spot one day when I was really upset and just wanted to get away from everything.
But wait…he was on tour with his band. He was supposed to be in Australia right now, wasn’t he? It was a six month tour and the last time I had seen him was…six months ago. Wow. With a start, I realized that it was the 18th; the day that he came home to Doncaster.
“Hope?” He called out again. I could hear his footsteps getting closer.
I sat up in the grass, trying to make myself presentable. I had been in love with him for two years, (even though he didn’t know it and would never love me back) and I didn’t want him to see me for the first time in six months looking a mess.
He stepped into the clearing right as I stood up. He looked perfect as always: His brown hair swept to one side on top of his head, his bright blue eyes twinkling. He wore a red and blue striped shirt with skinny jeans and toms. Suspenders hung from his waist.
His mouth turned into a huge grin as his eyes landed on me. “Hope!” He called, running over and pulling me into a big hug, lifting me off my feet. I wrapped my arms around his neck, breathing in his scent. I had missed him so much.
Louis. That’s right-THE Louis Tomlinson, from One Direction. He and I had met when we were both eight, when my family moved to Doncaster and we were neighbours with the Tomlinson’s. Louis and I were immediately best friends.
He set me down and pulled away to look away at me, his hands still on my waist. “How are you? I’ve missed you so much!”
“I missed you too!” I said. “How was the tour?”
We sat down in the grass and talked about the tour, and Louis told me a bunch of stories about the other boys. I missed them too. Louis had introduced us a couple weeks before the tour, and I got along well with all of them.
“But what about you?” he asked. “How’s everything been here at home?”
“Nothing new,” I said, looking around. “You know. Same old, same old.”
“Hope,” he said softly. I didn’t look at him. I knew that if I did, if I saw the worry in his eyes, I would break. Just like I always did around him.
But he brought his hand up to my chin and turned my head to face him. He said two words, soft but demanding: “Tell me.”
And I did. I told him about my parents, the college thing, even about the little things in school that were slowly but surely driving me towards the edge. He listened intently, his eyes on mine the whole time.
We stayed there for hours, just talking and fooling around. By the time the sun had started to set and it was getting darker, we were lying side by side in the grass. The conversation had died down into a comfortable silence.
I turned to look at him as he was looking up at the stars. I studied his beautiful profile; his long eyelashes, the small stubble around his mouth, the line of his jaw. He was just so…perfect.
He turned to look at me. I blushed and smiled, then turned to look back up at the sky. I could feel his eyes still on me.
“You’re beautiful,” he suddenly whispered.
I turned back to him, shocked. “What?”
“I said,” he said, moving so that he was on his side, leaning on his elbow so he could look down on me, “you are so, so beautiful.” His eyes were burning into mine.
I didn’t say anything; I didn’t know what to say. Suddenly his gaze flickered to my lips and back up. He leaned forward a little, then some more. His eyes questioned mine. When I didn’t object, he leaned in and pressed his lips to mine. They were soft and warm. He pulled away way too soon and just looked at me.
“What was that for?” I asked.
He laughed softly. “Hope, I love you. I have for a very long time, and being away on tour made me realize just how much.”
“I love you too.”