Cheeky ➻ Louis Partridge

12 | My Name Is Louis Partridge

Y/N

_

I DON'T WANT TO BORE YOU, so I'll be blunt.

Louis had exactly one week to prepare for the Romeo auditions, and I had exactly one week to spend every spare hour "rehearsing lines" with him—which was an obvious lie—we were just using that excuse to hang out.

So this is pretty much all we did.

First, Louis taught me how to skateboard, which resulted in a beat up knee and ton of scabs. That's where I learned he knew nothing about first aid, because he spent the next ten minutes worried I'd have to get my leg chopped off. (Spoiler alert: I didn't).

Second, Louis also kept pestering me about doing the dishes, as if it was the one thing he was meant to do in life. He had this idea that if I ever needed help cleaning my apartment, he'd call dibs on the dishes. I told him he was being ridiculous.

And third, I am currently at Louis' house, sitting on the roof while he paces around with a script in his hand.

"Have not saints lips," the boy recited, waving his hand around poetically, "and holy palmers too?"

I searched the page in my hand for the next line, biting my lip in confusion. I wasnt an actor, and reading lines was hard. There were just...so many words.

"Ay, pilgrim," I muttered, slightly monotone, "lips that they must use in prayer."

"O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands—" Louis started, before stopping himself, "this is the kiss scene, right?"

I set my script down, and cocked a brow, "I thought you said this was your favorite play?"

"It is."

"Then why don't you know the answer?"

"Because honestly," he said, "I don't really like this scene all too much."

Plopping down on the chair across from me, we sat there in silence as the sounds of upper London filtered over the rooftop. We had only been working for half an hour, and yet we were both tired out of our minds.

"I don't like any of the scenes," I sighed, "the whole idea of star-crossed lovers makes me feel sad."

Louis let out a soft laugh, "I know."

"But you'll have to memorize this if you want to get the part."

"But here's the thing," he said, standing up from his chair, "if I do get Romeo, is it a requirement to kiss whoever's playing Juliet?"

I tilted my head, "no, it's not."

"Good."

"Why is that good?"

Hesitating, Louis paced around the roof, deep in thought. After a few moments, he tossed his script onto the chair and looked at me.

"So I've been thinking," he started.

"Congratulations."

"[y/n]..."

"I'm sorry," I laughed, adjusting my seat on the couch, "go ahead."

"Is it okay if I'm blunt?"

"I don't see why not."

Louis was rarely ever blunt with me, so this was interesting. Normally he'd speak in flirtatious riddles and subtle dialogue, and bluntness was rare. I watched as he cleared his throat, and ran a hand through his fluffy brown hair.

"Okay, I'll be blunt," he said, adjusting his sweater, "date me please."

I blinked. that was definitely blunt.

"Um..." I mumbled, my eyes widened in surprise, "what?"

Louis cleared his throat, "I want to be your boyfriend."

"Wow."

"Wow?"

"Look, we've always been transparent with each other," I said, sighing, "so I think you should know about some things before you ask me that question."

So I told him about Keith.

About the three years, to getting him the role, and then finding him in the wings. Louis didn't say a word the whole time. He just listened.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled, once the story was over, "I know I'm probably overreacting, but the situation seems the exact same, and I'm just...afraid."

Louis nodded his head, "of getting hurt again?"

"Yeah.."

Grabbing my hand, he jumped onto the couch next to me and smiled. That cheeky, gorgeous, warming smile.

"Listen to me," he said, his voice soft, "I'm not Keith."

"I know."

"My name is Louis Partridge, and I like you."

"I know that too."

"And the last thing I would ever do is disrespect you," he said, bobbing his head up and down, "or make you feel like you're not as bloody perfect as I see you."

"Louis—"

"Just let me give my speech," he said, shoving his pointer finger against my lips, "please."

I nodded my head.

"I won't hurt you, okay?" He continued, "I promise. I wouldn't travel halfway across London to meet you outside the theater if you didn't mean anything to me. I wouldn't spend all of my time trying to get to know you, if I didn't think you're the most interesting person i've ever met."

He took a giant breath, squeezing my hand. I just listened to every word he had to say.

"And there were 60 other freaking people in the tube that day," he explained, "yet the only person my tea got on was you. Literally only you. Even my TEA knew you were the person I was waiting to meet! The freaking tea! If that doesn't tell you everything you need to know about how much I care about you, I don't know what will."

"Thank you, Louis," I smiled, "that was a very sappy monologue."

"Was it?"

"Sappier than ever."

"Then I guess that's a good thing," he grinned, cocking a brow, "so what will it be, fair Juliet?"

Laughing, I tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear and stared back into his dark brown eyes.

"I'm not your Juliet," I said, squeezing his hand, "but I'll let you be my Romeo."

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GUYSSSSS THIS IS WHERE THEY MEET EVERY DAY!

I saw this on Pinterest when I was doing some moodboard research, and I came across this haha! I know zero of you will probably remember this book, but if you're ever in London.... YAS!