If you want to know what was going through my head while writing this chapter listen to every Julia Michaels song. I'm only saying that because I was listening to Inner Monologue Part 2 while writing this chapter (mostly to get in the mood).
Anyways, don't be a ghost reader!
Also, prepare yourself, this is a big chapter.
Make sure you pop some popcorn and grab some tissues. You're in for a bumpy ride on this one.
Louis
"Would you sit still," Genevieve says trying to dab my face with alcohol to clean the cut from the physical altercation I just got it.
After Liam stepped in and pulled us apart Genevieve took me back to her dorm claiming I was too drunk to be left alone. I'm not even that drunk, buzzed maybe, but not drunk. However, no matter how many times I have tried convincing her otherwise she doesn't believe me. Most likely because Liam told her I was drunk because I was "acting out of character".
I would have punched Niall regardless. He had it coming with the smug comments he makes, and the way he acts like he's better than everyone else. He just pisses me off, and I don't get why Genevieve is still with a jerk like him. No matter how many times he hurts her, no matter how many apology speeches he gives, and no matter how many times he convinces her he's a changed man, she always gives him another chance, and he is constantly taking advantage of her.
"No, it hurts," I tell her softly, as she gently dabs the alcohol-soaked cotton ball on my face.
"Well if you wouldn't get in fights every time you and Niall are in the same room, we wouldn't have to clean the cuts on your face," She says, mostly sounded disappointed.
Did I do something? Did I disappoint her? Is she upset with me?
"Just say it," I say hoping that we can address the elephant in the room. This is not how I was hoping our first conversation since our argument would go. I had this big elaborate plan, that I mostly made while under the influence of a brown liquid. In my head, I planned on telling her how I felt, but now that I'm sobering up I can see how that was a terrible idea.
Besides, why would she ever like a guy like me? I'm nothing like Niall.
"It's nothing," She says, picking at fingers, a nervous trait she does when something is bothering her.
"Genevieve," I tell her as she looks up at me. She grabs a new cotton ball and soaks it in the alcohol, and slowly lifts it to my face. "Please put the cotton ball down, I will be fine," I tell her, hoping that she will want to talk.
"No Louis, if I don't clean it, it will get infected," She says frantically. I can tell that there is something other than the cuts on my face bothering her. I just need to get her to talk to me.
"Genevieve, love, you need to calm down," I say gently, bringing my hand to her cheek. "It's just a few cuts and bruises, I will be fine," I continue, as I see her soften at my touch. "Now can you please put the first aid kit away, and tell me what's bothering you," I say tracing my thumb along her cheek, stopping on her chin.
"It's just-," She begins as her voice breaks. "It's nothing," She says, as her breathing begins to shorten, and I can tell she is on the verge of a panic attack.
"Hey, come here," I whisper, gently grabbing her hand, pulling her in towards me. As she is standing in between my legs, I wrap my arms gently arms around her waist, and she holds onto me tightly. I can hear soft cries coming from her, and I can tell she is struggling to catch her breath as she is overwhelmed with whatever is bothering her. I begin rubbing her back gently, trying to comfort her. She's only had a panic attack one other time around me, and I'm trying to remember everything I did last time.
