Louis Patridge Imagines!

Louis Ignores You

A/n: This one is for a request by @chulpi1997 !

You sighed dramatically. Your school and another school nearby were doing a joint trip, which required a 20 hour bus ride. The plan was to stay in a town with a bunch of historical stuff for a week. You were actually looking forward to it, but none of your friends were assigned to this bus, hence your bad mood. The bus had driven to the nearest town to pick up the other students, and you had been stopped for a full thirty minutes. You were bored out of your mind, but not tired enough to fall asleep since it was only the afternoon.

As soon as you lowered your mask to take a drink from your water bottle you felt a stranger sit down next you. You jumped in surprise, as the last time you had looked up boarding still hadn't started. You saw that this stranger had brown tufts of hair peeking out of a black hood, with a black mask covering half of the face it belonged to.

You glanced around the bus and then back at the head looking down at his overstuffed carry on bag he was attempting to shove under the seat in front of him. Most of the spots were full, so it made sense that he was sitting next to you, but you hadn’t expected anyone to. Still, you couldn't complain. He looked tall, and from what you could see of his face as he gave up messing with his bag, attractive.

“Hello,” he said, his brown eyes now on yours. He was British, and he lowered down his mask to take a sip of his own water bottle, revealing that his face was just as pretty as you had predicted it to be.

You realized that he probably had spoken to you because you were staring. You glanced out the window past him and back at him. “Hi,” you replied shyly.

“I’m Louis,” he said.

You smiled nervously, although he couldn't see it. “Nice to meet you. I’m y/n.”

He nodded in response. He put his water bottle in his bag, causing him to lean slightly close to you. He smelled amazing; like a spritz of cologne and fresh rain in the north.

“I like your accent,” you blurted.

He laughed. “Thank you. I like your shirt.”

You looked down in surprise. It was light blue, and in the center was a mountain. Above it were the words 'to survive is to find meaning in the suffering.’
“You’re a fan of Nietzsche?” You asked him. No one had ever recognized your shirt before.

He nodded enthusiastically. “To live is to suffer.” He was referencing the first half of the quote your shirt was referring to.

He expanded on his favorite ideas of Nietzsche, and you responded with vigorous debate. You were so excited, but also nervous. You wanted him to be impressed by you. At some points you two laughed, while during others one of you was silent and contemplative. You found out that he had two sisters and played the piano throughout the conversation.

By the time you two grew tired of discussing philosophy the sun was setting. You stared out the window in silence.

When you looked back at him you saw that he was studying your face, his skin soaked in the golden rays coming through the window. Your heart rate picked up.

"What?"

"You're pretty smart, you know that?"

Your eyes widened. No one had cared that much about what you had to say before.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to be weird," he assured you.

You opened your mouth to reply, but before you could he asked you a question about your family.

Not even an hour later you both fell into a comfortable silence, and it wasn't until after 12 a.m that Louis finally put his seat back and closed his eyes. You did the same, but you couldn't sleep next to him.