sword ◦ larry stylinson

XXVIII

[A/N]: school is beating me up recently. We're assigned to a film (where I had to write the script), a video presentation and exams. Hopefully rhe exams is checked off my list so now I have other shit to work on.

Anothering thing, it's my birthday, since like... 30th of November. I'm finally 15 aha. Anywau, I first listened to Secret Love Song by LM a few days back and I. Am. Hooked. I got the album, and let me just say it's my favorite out of all five.

Also, I've got a Christmas break. It's prolly 3 weeks long so I guess I can finish this thing. Hopefully I can keep that promise.

Warning: mentions of religion and probably some tears here and there.

I was listening to Demi Lovato's Two Worlds Collide and suddenly I missed this fic.

twenty-eighth chapter

Louis raised his arm to allow the tailor to measure it, wearing pursed lips and staring out the window. They were in one large room of the castle; him, Eleanor, his four little sisters and his mother. They were getting measured and later then they were picking what design they had wanted.

Louis was far from enthusiastic. He was staring out the walls and windows as if he could just crash through there and jump down the tower. His mother had noticed it. She nudged him a couple of times and had cleared her throat, but Louis was silent still. He, Eleanor and his mother (probably Charlotte since she like to stick her nose into people's businesses and treat it like a puzzle piece) were the only ones who knew why Louis was acting like he was getting dressed for a funeral.

The prince felt bad for Eleanor, as well. She told him once that she was convinced that her father was only bargaining her off because she was an only child and she could not be an heir to his throne. They both had the love of their lives by their side, but unfortunately, there had to be someone stopping them.

Their time was even more limited then that they were getting close to the wedding day. Everything was in a hurry. Everybody else in the entire kingdom had taken notice of it, and now there were rumors going around that it was possible that Eleanor was pregnant, which she really wasn't. That was the second last thing Louis wanted to happen. It would cost him much more commitment... and pain.

"Your Highness." The tailer handed Louis a large thick book which had very delicate and detailed designs. He reached out and opened a particular page for him, "Now, these three designs are one of the ones that I have drawn for you. These are the far best and I guarantee you, you would have a difficult time to pick."

Louis looked at all three. They all looked the same to him. Before the tailor could even explain any of them, Louis cut in, "I pick this one."

The tailor spluttered, "A-Are you sure, your Highness? I'd thought you would--"

"I do not have second thoughts, kind sir." Louis spoke, "I pick this one. I am aware that you wanted me to be more participative in this and I am, but I am going to need you to tend to my little sisters and the bride more."

The tailor nodded, accepting, "Yes, of course, your Highness. You are absolutely right." After then, he was trotting off to Daisy and Phoebe.

Louis sat back down on the rest, and Eleanor made a sound that was almost like a snicker, "You could have at least acted more interested." She was looking at a book similar to what Louis was holding earlier, but that time it was for women and their ever-so lovely gowns that would make men itch.

"You are far more enjoying this than I thought." Louis wondered out loud.

"I absolutely not." She sent him a glare, "You can't blame me for my love of dresses. You, however..."