A/N: this might be my favorite chapter so far (*unedited*)
T W E N T Y E I G H T
I'm awoken suddenly by my phone's shrill ring and the glaring light of the screen coming on in my almost dark room. Thinking there must be an emergency or something, I kick off my covers and rush to it. I feel a little light-headed as I reach down and pull the phone to my ear, not bothering to check the I.D.
"Hello?" I gasp.
"I told you I would get your number," comes a smooth, smug voice on the other line. My stomach flips as I sit back against my bed, a wide smile spreading across my face.
"Hugo--how did you--never mind. But why are you calling me so early?"
He chuckles on the other line and I imagine how his sexy Adam's apple must look right now. "Because I have to be at the shelter in about twenty minutes and calling you was the first thing on my mind." My grin grows even wider despite the fact that I roll my eyes. "I was wondering if you'd like to come visit the shelter today, you know, as long as you aren't doing anything."
I cough awkwardly. "Well, I might, you know, be free. Because I'm not working or anything right now and all my suitors are currently out looking for a weekend yacht for us in Monaco and I'm bored."
"So I'm just a poor little common boy up against a sea of princes?"
"Pretty much. Of course." It's quiet on the phone for a minute, but not uncomfortable like it could be.
"I'll text you the address, ok? See you soon?"
"Yeah," I murmur, "see you soon."
"Oh and Elouise?"
"Yeah?"
"Wear those cute nerdy glasses of yours."
Before I can reply the line cuts off and I'm left watching the early morning sun creep out behind London's infamous grey clouds, a smile like sunshine on my face.
***
After having dressed quickly and quietly and slipped out our flat with a timid glance at Zayn's door I bound down the front steps and head in the direction of the shelter. I stop along the way at a cute patisserie, ordering croissants, fruit tarts and two lattes.
I find the shelter easily, it's front door a bright turquoise blue color. I step inside and am immediately overcome with warm air and the smell of dog shampoo and cat food. There's a young girl behind the counter filling out paperwork who smiles when she sees me.
"You must be Elouise. Hugo said there was a pretty girl coming by to see him."
I blush furiously, raising my white paper bags with our breakfast, hoping they might be a suitable explanation for my presence. "Um, where is he?"
"Oh!" She jumps up, raising the gate behind the desk and motioning for me to come through. "You must be really special, I've never seen Hugo bring any girls around here."
I freeze at her words, nearly dropping the lattes. "Oh, is that so?"
"Yeah. We adore Hugo. How did you meet him?" I follow her down an all white hallway, listening to the quiet hum of the air-conditioning and the muffled barks and mewls.
"Um, we have a mutual friend." I wince, thinking about Zayn. I have absolutely no clue what to say to him after our kiss last night. I'd laid awake most of the night and thought about it, absolutely terrified of what to say or do.
"And here he is," the girl says, swinging a door open. I'm confused for a moment as the room seems empty but then there's a meowing at my feet and a hand grabbing my ankle and I realize that Hugo is on the floor, his lap covered in tiny, adorable kittens.
"Hey," Hugo says, smiling adorably. "Want to hold one?" He lifts up a tiny grey cat with white paws and gorgeous blue eyes.
"Eep, yes," I squeal, handing him the white bags and the lattes and grabbing the tiny little cat in my hands. I kiss his little button nose and coo affectionately.
"That's the little runt of the litter. He's kind of a charmer," Hugo says, reaching a ringed finger over to the kitten's tiny head to scratch it affectionately. "What kind of treats did you bring me?" He reaches over into the white paper bag and pulls out a croissant. "Mm, my favorite. Thank you. How was your morning? Did you tell Zayn you were coming over here?"
At the mention of Zayn's name I stiffen, putting the kitten down and grabbing a latte in exchange. "Um, it was good. I'm glad you like the croissants, I wasn't sure you if you would. And I didn'ttellZaynbecauseI'mavoidinghim."
"You didn't tell Zayn, why?" Hugo asks, despite me hoping he wouldn't.
"We just. We had... well, it wasn't really an argument but. It's complicated, I guess. Hey, are you going to eat that?"
He hands me the strawberry tart with a serious expression on his face. I sit down beside him on the ground, my knee brushing against his as I do so. A spotted grey kitten and the kitten with white paws from earlier crawl into my lap and put their little paws on my chest, as if trying to convince me to let them have some of my strawberry tart.
"It seems like everything is complicated with you," he teases. I flick him off before taking a big bite of my large tart, flushing when I feel two large strawberries fall onto my shirt.
"Shit," I mutter, wiping my shirt furiously and trying not to think of how I've done nothing but embarrass myself in front of Hugo.
"Not in front of the children!" He scolds, covering the furry ears of the kitten in his lap with a disappointed look on his face.
"Sorry, sorry. Ah, bugger. This is one of my favorite shirts."
"So you wore one of your favorite shirts to come and see me?" He teases, waggling his eyebrows. "Well, now, Elouise I thought you could never fall for a common boy like me."
"Shut up!" I say, blushing furiously. "I just happened to throw it on!"
"And did you just happen to forget your glasses?"
I huff. "Do you think I still wear those? That was like, so long ago." I lie. They are sitting at home in my nightstand but there's absolutely no way I'm going to wear them in front of him.
"Oh dang. I know what I'm getting you for Christmas then," he licks a bit of filling from his thumb and I blush even harder at the naughty thoughts in my head.
"Are you always so smooth?"
"With all my 'conquests', you mean? Well, usually they're pretty much sold after the first glimpse at the kittens."
"All the girls you don't bring here, you mean?" I smile up at him through my lashes, watching him squirm for once.
"Dammit, you talked to Jesse didn't you?"
"The girl at the front desk?" He nods. "Well, yeah, since you know, I'm not exactly versed in mind-reading or sign language."
He sighs. "I guess this breaks the whole player illusion, then."
"I guess so," I agree, nibbling on my tart again. "But to be honest, I like you more knowing that you aren't that guy."
"Really?"
"Yeah. It's kind of funny but girls actually really like nice guys after all."
"So you like me," he flirts, batting his eyelashes at me. "Oh, Elouise, I'm touched."
"Shut up," I laugh, punching his shoulder. "Asshole."
"Hey! You're supposed to be nice to the guy who gives you unlimited access to a bunch of kittens!"
"Yeah but you also woke me up before ten A.M. on a Saturday. So, therefore you are officially an asshole."
He throws his head back and laughs loudly. It reverberates off the bare walls and the linoleum floor, catching me by surprise. I watch the way his delicious Adam's apple bobs up and down and the way the vein pulses against his neck. Then I consider the fact that I might be slowly turning into a vampire, considering all the sex I've gone without in the past month and the way I'm salivating over a man's neck. "What are you thinking about?" He suddenly asks, laying down on the floor and letting the kitten crawl onto his chest. They engage in a battle of paw and hand swatting, and I watch them for a while, absentmindedly petting my own kitten who's eyes are blinking slowly now and softly vibrating from her quiet purr.
"Vampires," I hum, reclining beside him. The ground is oddly comfortable despite the fact that it is hard and cold.
"Like Twilight or like, the Vampire Diaries?"
"Ugh," I moan, "now I'm thinking of Ian Somerhalder."
"Nina Dobrev," he murmurs dreamily. I scoff before I can stop myself, realizing too late the implications of my problem with him having a celebrity crush. "What?" He asks, elbowing me in the ribs. "Is she not good enough for you?"
"No," I hastily answer, hating the way it comes out so defensively. "I just. I don't know. I'm sure she's lovely."
"Oh you definitely hate her," he tells me, rolling onto his side. I hate his perfect blue eyes. I hate his perfect hair and how bad I want to run my fingers through it. And I hate how right now, I just want to lean up and kiss him. "Is it because you've realized how in love with me you are?"
I roll my eyes. Again. "Are you always this full of yourself?"
"Maybe," he retorts, smirking. Then his hand falls on my thigh and his lips part, framing themselves to say something. He moves closer to me and my breathing slows, my heart speeding up. "Elouise, I--"
"Hugo, well, Elizabeth wants to see you. She says it's important." Jesse interrupts, swinging the door open. She realizes a second too late that she's ruined a moment and I watch her turn bright red, her eyes becoming apologetic. "Oh, um, I'm sorry."
"It's alright, Jess. One minute." I can feel Hugo's eyes on me, but I'm desperate to look anywhere but his face. Jesse backs out the door with another apologetic glance at me and I sigh, pushing myself off the floor and away from Hugo. "Elouise--"
"You don't need to explain," I tell him, giving him a tight smile. "We only met last night, and I'm not your girlfriend or anything. I need to be on my way anyways." I gather my things quickly, shooting him another smile. "I'll, um, I'll see you around."
He opens his mouth to say something, but I'm out of the door before he can, pressing it shut with shaking hands. I know how crazy I'm acting. I knock my head against the wall a few times, cursing myself. I'm not supposed to be getting involved with anyone! Especially after Zayn! And Niall! "Fuck," I swear, banging my head against the wall one last time.
"What are you doing?" I hear Hugo ask behind me, as if this moment could get any worse.
So my brilliant explanation is, "Just testing the drywall. Wouldn't want the crazy London weather to knock this place down!" I fake laugh and then turn quickly, nearly sprinting down the hall.
I don't breathe until I'm outside again, the sky dark and thunder rumbling from above. It reminds me vaguely of how my uncle used to laugh, with a few hearty from-the-belly chuckles before it would turn into this loud, booming guffaw that made everyone join in too. I inhale deeply, looking up to the sky as I always do when an intense wave of grief and loss washes for me. Then the sky opens up and parts like the Red Sea, dumping a whole ocean of water down. I realize a second too late that I left my umbrella and Oyster card back home, just because I hate myself.
***
As if the universe wasn't yet satisfied with my misfortune, when I get home, Zayn is sitting on the couch, watching The Office with Nick in his lap.
I try to creep behind them and make my way to the stairs without any noise, hoping they won't realize--specifically Zayn--won't notice, but Nick lifts his head and barks, and then Zayn turns around and sighs, calling out my name.
"Um, she's not here right now, maybe leave a message?"
"Elouise, come on. It's not that big of a deal."
I spin on my heel. "Not that big of a deal? You kissed me and it had obvious implications! Zayn, we're best friends, we can't go around kissing each other!"
"Well, if we were a couple we could."
"A couple? You know I don't want to be with anyone right now."
"Except Hugo."
"I never--I don't want to be with Hugo!"
"Is that why you were with him all morning?"
I stamp my foot. "How do you know that? Are you following me?"
"No, he called me because he couldn't get a hold of you. He said, 'well you'd be the first person to know where she is', and you know what, Elouise? I didn't know where you were!"
"Well, it's not your job to know where I am all the time!"
"I know that!" He snaps. "But this is just the start!"
"The start of what?"
"Of the end of our friendship! First you stop telling me about your day, then you stop talking to me! Then we stop hanging out and then all of a sudden we're living two completely separate lives and we have no idea who the other is!" He rakes his hand through his hair, his eyes dark and frightened looking.
I am stunned to silence. My hands shake by my side because I want so badly to be able to ease his worries and be the girl he loves. The girl who he wants to love him back.
I cross the invisible line between us and sit down beside him on the couch, wrapping my fingers around his. "We will never stop being best friends, ok? Never. But we will never be a couple, Zayn." I hate the way his face falls. "I love you so much. And enough to know that you deserve someone who loves you completely and without the thought of another guy always in the back of her head. You deserve to love someone who can be this great girl for you and love you back completely. That doesn't mean this has to mess up our friendship, though."
"Can you just tell me if you felt anything at all during our kiss?"
I crumble, realizing it's not easy to be loved by someone you can't love back. He leans his head on my chest and I cradle it in my arms, stroking his long hair. "Of course I did. And it's so hard for me to tell you no, because I want nothing more than to be the girl you deserve. You're perfect for me, Zayn. You'd be the best boyfriend I'd ever have. But to be honest, perfect isn't always what's best for us."
He sighs and pulls away, squeezing my knee once more. "I hate when you make sense."
I laugh, reaching out to hug him once more. He still feels like home and for that I'm thankful. When I let go, I feel much better. I lay my head in his lap, letting his warm hands play with the wet strands. "I should probably shower," I murmur to him, my cheek against his thigh. His fingers tighten in my hair and he pulls a blanket around my shoulders.
"You can just lie here for a while." He tells me, his voice as soft as the whisper of the TV in front of us. I don't argue. It's too comfortable here, and he's so warm. I just yawn and nod, curling up on his lap. His fingers wind and unwind in my hair, sending waves of calm through my body.
We chatter absentmindedly about nothing important. Zayn had been at Elouise until late this morning, just as he had been the night before. I can tell he loves it, but I can also see the dark purple circles under his eyes and the exhaustion etched in the tired lines around his mouth. I voice my worries to him and he waves them away, telling me that it won't always be like this. But I have an unsettled all-too-familiar feeling in my stomach, because I know how a few long nights strain into never sleeping and becoming a work obsessed man who can't let go.
"I'm not going to become him," Zayn says at my worried look.
"I know," I sigh. "But just take care of yourself, please."
He grins. "Ok."
I lay my head back down, turning my attention to the TV. "What are we watching?"
"Friends reruns."
"Yes! Pre-Monica and Chandler or are they together?"
He scrunches his nose. "Why are you so into Chandler and Monica? Rachel and Ross are so much more interesting."
"Ew, no. Ross is a baby who can't decide who to be with and refuses to man up for Rachel. He cheats on her and then wants to fight about it!"
"They were on a break!" Zayn yells, throwing a M&M at my face.
"Hey!" I huff, playfully swatting his chest. "It doesn't matter! If he loved her, how could he even think about being with another woman? How could he have sex with another woman?" I'm surprised by the amount of rage I suddenly for Ross Geller. "I mean. If you love someone as much as he claims to love Rachel, how could he even look at another woman? He didn't do it because he was drunk--guys can't get erections when drunk, so, therefore, he couldn't have had sex. So he did it to hurt Rachel. He knew she would find out and he knew she would be crushed."
"Yeah but he thought she was with her cute boss. He thought she'd already moved on."
"So? Eye for an eye? I just don't understand how he could have wanted to hurt her, even if he loved her. Rachel deserved better. She should've wound up with Joey."
"Well, yeah. Maybe Ross did want to hurt her, because he loved her. Because he never felt good enough for Rachel. She was this beautiful girl who had brushed him off entirely in high school. Maybe Ross was even more mad at himself for thinking he could possibly be with someone like Rachel."
"Ok, I understand, but it's still not ok for him to cheat on her."
"No, but people don't love perfectly, Elouise. Monica and Chandler are great, but they're perfect. They're the stable couple. There's a reason they don't get as much screen time. Maybe love is supposed to be screaming and fighting and passion."
"Monica and Chandler have passion!"
He laughs then, and I realize that we're having a way too deep conversation about a '90's television show. Then in a quiet moment, he says, "I guess I just worked out another reason why we'll never work."
"Why?" I ask lazily, my head on his chest now as his fingers make patterns up and down my back.
"Because we wouldn't fight or scream. We'd just understand and compromise."
"Now look who's the bad guy," I tell him. His chest vibrates under my head, his muffled laughter underneath. I can't help but wonder if I don't like Ross and Rachel because I'm afraid of them. I'm afraid of the instability of the unknowing. I don't like the uncertainty. Maybe I need to take a risk. To take a step towards the unknowing.
I dart from the couch. "There's something I have to do." I tell Zayn, scooping my purse from the coat hanger in the foyer and stomping on my rain boots. I had expected Niall to understand. I had expected him to love me back. I had expected Monica and Chandler. I don't know if it matters if he knows. I don't know if he will care. I don't know if he ever did.
But I run out to a phone-booth anyways, because A, I'd always wanted to use one; B, I am a fairly dramatic person; and C, it's what Holly Golightly would have done.
***
In a very dingy phone booth that smells like moldy piss, I dial Niall's number. Under my arm is the brown package he'd given me before I left New York. The instructions were specific. Once I was done, I was to look at it. But before I could, I wanted to tell him everything.
The line rings four times before it is connected. Then his voice comes out from the black telephone and I hate how it feels like a knife in my stomach and the simplest relief at the same time.
"It's me," I say, my voice raw. Suddenly my words are stuck in my throat, scattered and stuck, because his voice in memory is not as sweet as his voice in real life.
"Elouise?" Obviously he hadn't expected my call.
"Yeah." I cough.
"Why aren't you calling from your phone?"
"Well, I'm in a phone booth. The fancy red ones in London, you know. I always wanted to go in one."
"How is it?"
"Well, it stinks." I confess, laughing hoarsely.
"How are you?" He asks softly, dislodging some of the caught words.
"I'm not bad. London's good. How're you?"
"I'm doing well. Business is good."
Suddenly I had no problem with my words again. "Well, this won't take long. I just came to an epiphany today and I thought you should know."
"I'm listening."
I take a deep breath, my eyes pricking. This is it. This is really it. "I love you. I still do. And it sucks. And I don't want to, not anymore. Because it ruins everything. It ruined everything. I know you told me not to. I know you were honest with me--well, at the beginning. I know you warned me. But God, Niall, did you make it so fucking easy. You threw me parties and you told me I was your Gatsby and you told me I was everything to you. You made me part of your family, made me think you actually loved me under all that brooding stuff."
"Elouise--"
"No, just wait." I take a shaky breath. "I admit I expected too much from you. I expected you to just love me back and to fight for me. Then I expected you to get rid of Gillian, not so much because of what we'd had, but because of how I thought you respected me. I put as much effort into building your company as you did and you disregarded that as soon as I started becoming close to you. The company was my baby too, Niall. I sacrificed everything for it--and not just because I wanted to see it successful. I wanted you to be happy! I wanted to prove myself to you, once and for all!" I let out a choked sob. "And despite the fact that I never wanted this, despite the fact I don't want to love you, I do! And all I have left is this stupid brown package you left me with and a big fucking hole in my heart."
I continue on, rubbing my nose on my sleeve. "And I'm so fucked up because of this that I couldn't even see myself with Zayn, who everyone knows is perfect! But none of it matters. What matters is that I've figured it out! I'll never stop loving you, never. It's a pretty bad curse to be stuck with. But that's ok. Because I'll find someone else. Someone to love differently. Someone who makes me laugh. Someone who would rather have nothing but dirt under his feet than loose me. So yeah, you fucked me up. And you made me weak. But I've figured out what I want because of you. And it isn't what I thought. It isn't to be you. It's to be the opposite of you: it's to love deeply and abandon my comfort zone and just live. When are you going to start living, Niall?"
I don't wait for his response. I just hang the phone up and walk out into the pouring rain, this time with my umbrella. There's a trash bin on the corner and I dig my hands in my purse, pulling out the stupid package he'd left me with. I hesitate, holding the stupid thing in my hands timidly. What if he'd confessed everything in this? What if he explained it all? My hands are on the taped edges when I hear my voice being called over my shoulder.
I drop the package into my purse again, turning to meet my name-caller with a confused expression. The figure draws nearer and becomes less a shapeless form and now a person. It's Hugo.
"Hi," he pants. "I was heading towards your flat to um, talk to you, but Zayn said you'd ran off."
I hate that I'm still mad at him for this morning with whoever wanted him. "Why?"
"You ran off too fast for me to explain to you that Elizabeth is my agent."
"Agent? But why would you need an agent? You're only an animal-shelter volunteer... Unless you're not only an animal-shelter volunteer..."
He smirks. "My secret identity has been found out, I guess."
"Are you some sort of spy?"
"I wish, that'd be way cooler." He looks at the ground. "No, I'm an actor."
I grin. How very unstable. "I hope it's not porn."
He laughs loudly, the sound making me grin along with him. "Would you like to come over to my place for dinner?"
I chew on my lip, the brown package heavy in my purse. "Sure, that sounds lovely, actually. What will we be having?"
He loops his arm through mine, pulling me close. "Ah, Elouise. Well, I'll have to impress you since I'm up against so many other fine suitors. I'm thinking something Italian and some wine, eh?"
I nod enthusiastically, listening to him chatter as we carry on outside of my neighborhood and towards a busier, more upscale area. After several blocks we appear outside a white brick building with open windows and a huge, diamond chandelier.
A doorman opens the door for us, tipping his hat in greeting for Hugo. "Evening, Mr. Kent, and good evening miss."
I flash him a smile over my shoulder as Hugo exchanges his arm around mine to grip my hand, pulling me along the plush, velvet carpet. We head up a spiral staircase that circles the luxurious chandelier and I wonder just how successful Hugo's acting career is. I love the chandeliers and how the decoration of the interior seemed to center on them.
"You're too fast for me," I complain as he tugs me along. On the third floor we exit, heading down a short hallway and back towards the last room.
He gives me a small smile before turning the key in the lock, pushing the white door open with his shoulder. He grabs my hand again once we're through the door. The hallway we enter is simple and bare, totally a bachelor's pad. There's a coat hanger in the corner that Hugo places both our coats on it before leading me around the corner. When we emerge into the next room, I realize why the apartment is so bare. There is a huge, floor to ceiling window in the main room, a combined living room and kitchen with a door to the side that must lead to the master bedroom. There are sparse decorations but it makes sense. The window gives a sweeping view of London and the Thames.
I gravitate towards it, playing with my necklace as I watch the lights from the city twinkle below us. "It's so beautiful," I murmur, my hands on the window.
"It is. I fell in love with this flat because of it." He tugs at my wrist, pulling me to the left. "But this addition to the city made the view even better." I follow his finger as he points to a bright row of lights a few blocks from the Thames. I'm surprised to see that it's my name he's pointing to, the bright lights from Zayn's club somehow brighter than all the rest.
"You can see that from here?"
"Yeah," he chuckles. "I'm going to start dinner now, ok?"
"Sure," I mumble, distracted by the lights below us. After a few more minutes I turn away, making myself helpful for Hugo. We open a large bottle of wine as he makes some delicious smelling pasta dish and I sit on the counter, providing commentary. He asks me about everything, my life in New York City, past boyfriends. Mid-bowl into his delicious penne with vodka sauce I finally tell him about Niall, leaving out nothing save for his name. For some reason I can't say it.
He tells me about the girl he'd loved all his life, who then cheated on him and left him for his best friend. He tells me, surprisingly, that he was studying to become a lawyer when he caught his girlfriend in the arms of his best friend. Seeing him with her made him realize he wasn't living the life he truly wanted and he moved here, to London. To be an actor. On a whim. He talks about the color of her brown eyes, the way she said 'nickel' and how she dotted her 'i's. He doesn't seem sad or upset as he talks about her, but I know better. I recognize the distance in his voice because it's the same way my voice gets when Zayn asks me about Niall or Katherine mentions him on the phone.
We talk about living without the love of our lives. There's an insinuated understanding beneath the conversation, a mutual agreement that whatever relationship falls between us won't be permanent. I won't lie, it makes it all the more enticing.
It's dark outside when we finally come to a lull in our conversation. The fire is almost dead behind our feet and our last glasses of wine sit with a drop of dark maroon liquid inside of them. I stretch and untangle our legs, not even realizing that they'd been tangled in the first place.
"It's late," he murmurs, following my motions.
"I should probably get home," I tell him, though I make no intention of moving.
"You'll never get a cab at this hour. Stay."
"Are you sure?" I ask, turning my eyes to his. "I haven't got any clothes or a toothbrush for that matter--"
"Elouise. Stay." His eyes are intense, dark.
"Why?" I whisper as he moves closer. The air between us cackles and I feel a dry spark inside my stomach, something I haven't felt in a long time. Something familiar hums between my ribs as his finger brushes against my wrist and his eyes become the only thing I can see. There is nothing else. Just him and me.
"Because there is so much I haven't gotten to do with you yet," he murmurs, his gaze falling to my lips.
"Like?" I gasp.
"Like this," his hands knot in my hair and pull my lips to his, causing me to gasp against them before falling back to reality. It feels different and familiar and safe and dangerous all at the same time. He holds me like we might be thrown apart at any time, one hand knotted in my hair, the other snaked against my waist. My heart thumps wildly against my chest and I know my hands are shaking but I don't doubt the way his lips feel against mine, the strange right-ness about them. Damn it all to hell, I know it won't be forever with him, but I have missed the touch of a man and the closeness of two hearts beating against each other.
I wrap my legs around his waist and he carries me to the room off of the living room, dumping me in an impossibly large white bed with a duvet that makes me feel like we're on a huge cloud. His lips are sinful, the way they know how to manipulate my skin and draw devilish noises from me. His hands are handcrafted from Michelangelo's hands and they caress and knead my body like I am about to become a masterpiece of his own making.
We toss and turn on the bed like animals fighting for dominance, the duvet twisting between our bodies and clothing disappearing faster than we can even think about what to do next. It's instinct. My body and his body just react to one another and I don't think. I fall onto his white plush duvet and throw my hands up, surrendering. His smirk is enough to make my stomach twist as he drops down on top of me, a devilish glint in his eye.
***
- N I A L L -
He had been up all night thinking about Elouise's words, running them around and around in his mind until he had flushed out every possible explanation. Did it mean she was done? Did it mean she just wanted him to try?
He had drifted off sometime in the wee hours of the morning and now it was late in the morning and he was late for work but he didn't give a fuck. Everything that had made sense before seemed morphed and twisted and he couldn't figure out how things he used to enjoy, like sleeping alone and the silence of his apartment, bothered him now.
He decides to go for a walk. It would help him clear his mind and maybe he'd work up the courage to call Elouise back and tell her what he really wanted to tell her. He just wanted to tell her. No, he needed to tell her. He needed her to know that all the things she had felt, he had felt and more.
But first, he needs coffee. He leaves his apartment in glasses, a first for him, and a pair of casual jeans. He prays there aren't nosy paparazzi lurking in the bushes because all he wants is to be normal for once. He considers this as he makes his way to the lobby of his apartment building, the velvet stairs soft under his feet. He'd picked the building because he adored the chandeliers in it, the way the whole design seemed to be made up around them.
He'll tell her. He'll tell her he loves her and she'll know and they will be together again. Feeling hopeful and sociable for once, he stops to talk to the young man on the stairs. He'd seen him around a few times, a rising young actor with a very French name he couldn't remember for the life of him.
"How you doing, mate?" He asks.
"Brilliant, how about yourself?" They pause on the stairs, Niall one below the gentleman whose name he could still not remember.
"It seems like today will be a good day. You're in that new Harry Potter production, right?"
"Uh, yeah. I'm not him though, Harry Potter, I mean."
"I bought tickets last night. I know someone who would be thrilled to go."
"A special person, from the look on your face." Niall bites his lip, hiding a smile.
"Special doesn't begin to cover it."
"I know what you mean," the young man says, holding up his very full hands. They're full with breakfast goods and two coffees.
"You need help carrying that up?" Niall offers, reaching for one of the coffees. The brunette's face fills with relief.
"Thanks mate. That wouldn't be the first time I've spilt something in these hallways because my hands are full."
Niall chuckles and follows him to his flat, noting how it was almost exactly beneath his. The door swings open with a quiet whine and he lets Niall in with a grin and a finger over his lips, gesturing for him to be quiet. "I'm afraid she's still asleep." He whispers, indicating for Niall to set the coffees down on the counter.
"Long night?" Niall asks with a wink, remembering the way he and Elouise used to have multiple rounds before finally collapsing in the wee hours of morning.
"Yeah, our first night together. I'm trying to make it special, you know?"
"I'm afraid I don't know." Niall glances at the coffee cup the other man had just sat down and sees Hugo printed in neat, cursive letters on the side. Ah, Hugo. That's his name! "I've never been good at the romantic stuff." Out of curiosity, Niall reaches for the second cup, wondering which beautiful actress Hugo is bedding.
Except the name on the side of the cup makes his heart stop. He drops the cup on the table with a violent thump and turns sharply from the counter, muttering an excuse about being late for a meeting. He runs from Hugo's flat, out of the lobby, and into the London streets, feeling like he might vomit.
He does, when he finally gets to a quiet side street. He blinks, desperately wishing he had not talked to Hugo, wishing he had never hired Elouise in the first place. He closes his eyes and tries to see anything but her name scrawled on the side of the cup.
It was her, he knew it. And she had fallen in love with Hugo, who brought her brunch in the mornings and acted in plays and probably had already told her he loved her.
***
Well that's that ....
oh goodness!!!! DrAMA
what do you think????? this is my favorite chapter i think. i can't help but love hugo because he's exactly who elouise needs right now and i think he's going to be a very interesting character in her story!! also i love troye sivan and fools is a perfect song for this chapter so enjoy.
sorry i was away for so long my darlings. i miss you all and i hope you enjoy this chapter!!! there's so much left to write this story and yet there's not that much left at the same time!!! AGH anyways!
love you all!!!
xx madi xx