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***UNEDITED 3/17***

***EDITED 3/18***

                       Lydia’s POV

            The closer it got to six o’clock the less I wanted to wake up the sleeping man on my lap. It was as though he’d regressed back into time. Back to the days when stubble didn’t taint his ungodly smooth skin, back to when his sharp jawline and pronounced features were still just being developed.

            He had been at a restful sleep for nearly two hours now. Only waking me up when he’d turned his head against my chest, using it as a pillow.

            I swear to god I wasn’t a slut, and with any other man I would have minded more than a little. It was just something about Louis that I just couldn’t understand, and that was exactly why I had quite willingly allowed him to keep his comfortable position, while I got a perfect view of his lazily beautiful face.

            I was terrible at keeping my hands to myself. When I’d first woken up almost half an hour ago I’d frantically pulled my fingers out of his soft flop of hair, and had erratically debated yanking my hand out from under his. I just couldn’t do it though.

            So instead of waking Louis up because of my own fear of what serenity his skin brought mine, I propped my head up on Nora and finally allowed myself the grace of studying him as I would a slide. A perfect, impeccably crafted, skillfully handled slide, with the beauty of the world trapped among its facets.

            I was mainly under the impression that if I didn’t admit that I felt something ignite all the way down to my toes when I found his hand trapping mine on top of his chest, that I simply would not even be able to feel it at all.

            The large numbers on my lock screen abruptly shifted to 6 pm, as if they were mocking my frightening train of thought.

            “Louis.” I whispered, leaning off of Nora and trying my best not to disturb the peace as I moved closer to the sleeping god.

            Silence.

            His brilliantly enticing lips remained as sealed as the beautiful blue eyes, trapped beneath a layer of thinly spread eyelashes.

            “Lou,” I bit my lip, unsure of where the nickname had come from and if I wanted to punch myself for even using it.

            “Hmm?” He responded groggily, breaking me out of my self-involved banter.

            “It’s six, you have to go back.” I continued to whisper, moving farther back as he started to move.

            First his legs stretched out in front of him, brought on by the most Earth shatteringly adorable yawn. It crinkled his still shut eyes, giving him the impression that he had lost ten years.

            “Just give me a second babe, my things are packed by the door.” He mumbled, bringing his arms up in a stretch and then rolling even farther onto my chest. He nuzzled his head in, dropping his hand back down to mine, holding it in place on his shirt.

            “What?” I couldn’t contain my shock, but at the same time I was wondering where he was going with this. I pressed my free hand onto my forehead, holding back the curls as I waited for the bright blue eyes to pop out at me.

            “I’ll be up in five love, we can shower together if you give me a minute.”

            My eyes nearly popped out of my head, my lips pressing into an ‘O’ as I debated what was more mind blowing. It was a close race between the light sleep and heavy words that painted his perfect accent even deeper, and the glorified sleep deprived state he was in. The one that would lead him to believe that he was in bed with someone.

Zoo // Louis TomlinsonWhere stories live. Discover now