Silent Laughter (Louis Tomlinson Fan-Fic) Book 3

Part seven

I shake my head with a grin outlined on my lips.

"He had a fucking hot ass body Winn. Get this. He's on a football team." he continues muttering and I lean my head closer in curiosity, waiting for him to continue the details.

"He looked as if he was sculpted by that old, popular sculptor guy."

I move my head back and I point my index finger up at him, signaling him to wait just a second.

I erase and such, writing down the name 'Donatello' before showing it to him.

He shrugs.

"Yeah that guy I guess."

This is my bestfriend.

A twenty five year old grown man that went to fucking Oxford who doesn't even remember who Donatello is.

And I'm still proud to know him nonetheless.

I feel myself snort a little at my thoughts, receiving an eye roll from Coop since he's like a fucking mind reader.

"Don't judge me. There are so many fucking sculptors okay and I'm trying to tell a story so-"

I just nod my head, telling him in my way that I get the point and for him to continue and he does.

"Well so what I was saying before I was rudely interrupted by Ms. Sass pants Queen was that this morning I got a call from him, which was weird since he hadn't texted me or called me since Saturday, but like when I answered, he told me that he wanted me to go see him practice."

'That's hot.' I mouth.

He nods almost violently.

"It is. Damn, It fucking is and so I of course accepted until I remembered that I was taking you to the Ward today, so I told him I couldn't because of you and he said he wouldn't mind if I brought you along and so I told him maybe, that it depends on you and yeah."

I feel my lips separate a little as I don't really know how to respond, until I notice the spec of hope hiding behind the plastic on his eyes.

My lips scrunch up with one another and I just nod. I can't say no to the boy with the cool shirt. I don't obtain that ability.

I just don't.

'I don't mind.' My lips form for me and he smiles, before placing his lips on the top of my head, leaving a friendly and appreciative kiss.

His arm finally removes itself from me and his hand goes to the pocket of his khakis, sliding out his crappy blackberry to obviously notify his 'special friend' of our soon to be arrival.

I guess it won't be so bad.

I mean cute boys sweating while playing football and pouring water all over their faces when they feel overheated isn't a bad thing to look at.

Not at all.

I poke Coop and he types a few more things before glancing at me.

He raises his eyebrows in question and I write on my board again.

'What team is he on?'

He turns his head to the side for a moment as he begins thinking.

"Um. The Doncaster Rovers I think."

I just nod my head and we both just sit there for a while in silence as he texts the guy and I remain seated with my eyes glued on the bench once again.

...

Therapy today was the same as usual I guess. She acted as if I was her patient that she has never seen in the outside world before, her eyes were glued on that fucking clipboard more than on me, her voice matched that of the one on my Ipad, she asked me the same exact questions she always asks, and that's really it.