Louis Tomlinson's Love Story // l.t

Chapter Thirteen: Now You're Living With a Broken Heart

 EDITED

PICTURE: Dave Franco as James

 Title of chapter from Brokenhearted by Lawson

-Felicity .x

~*~

Chapter Thirteen: Now You're Living With a Broken Heart

EMILY:

"Drive slower, Eleanor!" Louis chided, as his girlfriend sped down the motorway, at, in my opinion, way too fast a speed for such a rainy day. But she would not slow. 

"All I want to do is get back to the hotel. My God, will the rain never cease? It's 36 degrees in Paris, Emily," she added, snarkily. I rolled my eyes. 

So far, we had been having a miserable, rainy day. The water beat down relentlessly, like a fist hammering down on everything in its midst. The wind's icy fingers clawed at our legs and so far I had stepped in about seven knee deep puddles, got my hair tangled into rats tails, ruined my favourite shoes and jeans and I had a cramp in my knee. All because Eleanor had wanted to go shopping. I had bought souvenirs for my mum and Delilah, but that was besides the point.

"Excuse me, Eleanor," I said, testily. "May I remind you that is was you who wanted clothes?

"Eleanor, slow down!" hissed Louis. "You're gonna skid and land us in a ditch. Not to mention you're absolutely racing over the ramps. This car's a rental, you know."

Eleanor skidded over another ramp, throwing me half a foot in the air. I gritted my teeth.

~*~

"Hey!"

We entered the lobby, drenched from head to toe. I shivered, and looked up. James was leaning against the reception desk. He saluted me. I grinned back. 

"I'm on lunch," He said to me. "Can I be your tour guide again?"

I glanced at Louis. He wasn't looking at me. 

"Sure," I said, "Let me just get changed."

"Why bother?" Louis said loudly, "You're gonna get wet anyway."

"He's got a point," James agreed. 

"Okay, well. I'm gonna go, okay guys?" 

Eleanor offered me one of those genuine smiles she saved for special occasions. "Have fun," She said, and she sounded like she meant it. 

"Thanks," I told her, "See you, Louis."

He didn't meet my eyes. "Bye, love."

~*~

James and I were squashed under one umbrella. I wasn't told where we were going, but James seemed to know what he was doing. 

 "My favourite colour's red, by the way."

I raised my eyebrows questioningly. "I don't remember asking."

 He shrugged. "It's always good information to have."

"Oh. Well, in that case, mine's green."

As we turned a corner, James bumped into a young girl who was running at full speed, tears streaking her face. She was crying out hysterically in a fast string of Italian. She looked panic-stricken. At a loss for what to do, I looked to James. He seemed to have no hesitation.

James bent down on his hunkers, to the little girl's height. I held the umbrella out over the both of them. The rain drilled down on my head. The child didn't appear to know him, but she stopped crying.

"Ciao, tesoro," He murmured to her. "Cosa succede?"

"Mi sona persa!" The little girl cried.

 "She's lost," James translated for my benefit. 

"Come ti chiami?" It sounded as though James was asking her name, but for all the Italian I knew, he could have been asking her if she liked macaroni. 

I didn't catch it, but it sounded like Nazi. Who names their kid Nazi? 

"Vieni con noi, tesoro," James offered. "Come with us. We will take you to a police station, okay?"

He offered his hand to Nazi. She drew back, suddenly frightened.

She squealed. "Polizia! No! I not go!"

 "The polizia are just going to call your mamma, okay? They won't hurt you, I promise."

James looked up apologetically. "You mind? I just can't leave her here in the rain, all alone."

My heart skipped a beat.

"Of course not!" I shook my head. Nazi suddenly noticed me, and pointed with a chubby arm at my face.

"I seen her on televisione!" She exclaimed, excitedly, eyes wide. I stiffened, looking at James.

"Questo e Emily." James told her. I waved. 

He led us to a police station. The officer at the desk was on the phone. He hung up shortly, and looked expectantly at me. I realised I was standing at the front of the group and opened my mouth stupidly. James took over.

With a rapid converse in beautiful Italian, James explained the situation.

"Nome?" The officer asked.

"Nazi," I said helpfully, wanting to have an input. The officer glared at me as if I were a waste of space. 

"You stupid, girl? You are wasting my time, eh!" He said, snappily. I shrunk back, my cheeks reddening.

James put a reassuring arm on my waist, and snapped as rudely as he dared that I spoke not a word of Italian. 

"Grazia Fratiani," James said. "That's her name."

Oh.

We left the girl clinging to a chair and headed back into the rain. 

"Trevi Fountain?" James said, "And then you have to try gelato."

I nodded. We started walking again. 

"You were lovely to Grazia," I said to him. "You're good with kids." 

"Do you have younger siblings?" He asked me. 

"One. Delilah. She's fifteen." 

"I have a younger brother, he's ten." 

Before I knew it, we'd reached the Trevi Fountain. A few people milled around it, but not as many as there normally would be due to the weather. We pushed to the front. Somehow, it was even prettier in the rain, the raindrops making little ripples in the fountain's water. Hundreds of copper coins glinted on the bottom of the fountain. 

I dug a coin out of my pocket, turned around and threw it into the water. 

I hadn't thought about my wish, and I was shocked by the first sentence that came to mind. 

I wish Louis Tomlinson was mine again.

All Italian was thanks to google translate, so apologies if it's wrong!

-Felicity .x