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Pen Your Pride

 **Emma’s POV**

Joe’s is packed, but Louis manages to sweet talk a pretty waitress into getting us a table right away. It’s fascinating, actually, watching the way he oh-so-innocently bites his lip and looks at the girl from under his eyelashes. It’s his eyes that really pull her in though, and she doesn’t break the contact throughout the entire time Louis talks to her. I try not to laugh, but it’s really hard because of the way the waitress leans onto her elbows and listens to Louis as if they’re sharing some big secret. I scoff at the sight and interrupt the moment. The girl glares at me and straightens up, then looks back at Louis blissfully. He flashes an incredible smile and winks at the girl. She blushes and grabs two menus.

“Right this way.” She says with a small grin at Louis and a viscious glance at me. I roll my eyes and follow her and Lou to a table in the corner of the diner. She sets the menus on the table and we sit down.

“Thank you so much!” I say sarcastically and she narrows her eyes at me, but I’m looking at Louis. He’s watching the scenario with an amused expression, eyes wide. I raise my eyebrows at him and smile back at the waitress. She purses her lips and makes a hurried exit from our table. Louis continues to stare at me and we both burst out laughing. He wipes a tear from his eye and his laugh settles to a small chuckle. He rests his fist under his chin and gazes at me intently, as if he just realized something.

“What?” I ask, still laughing.

“You were jealous, weren’t you?” He asks mischievously, a cheeky grin spreading across his face. I feel a blush burst onto my cheeks and I roll my eyes.

“If that’s what you want to believe, Lou, then sure.” He leans back in the booth and folds his arms behind his head, smirking with his eyes closed. “Shut up. She just pissed me off, is all.” I mumble and hide my burning face behind my menu.

After a few seconds, Louis says that he’s going to the men’s room, so it’s just me at the booth. While I scan my eyes down the menu, I hear footsteps approaching. I look up and see a blonde guy, about my age, wearing a “Joe’s” shirt. He has deep blue eyes and his hair is somehow perfectly messed up, making him even more attractive. He smiles a crooked smile and holds up a little notepad and pen, speaking in an adorable Irish accent.

“Hello there beautiful, I’m Niall. What can I get you?”

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