In a beautiful turn of cruelty, Louis' shift the next day starts at the crisp hour of eleven in the morning.And, sure, that's not all that early-but Louis has been sleepless and angsty and adjusted to the night life so his body is mildly confused when he drags his carcass out of his sheets at 10AM and pulls cold cotton over his sleep-tingly limbs, still warm and creased from his sheets. But whatever. He's already in a shit mood; might as well get this day over with.
After all, Liam and Harry will probably be going on the date soon, so. Distractions will be welcome.
He kisses his mum goodbye, kisses his sisters (despite their protests) and drives his clunky car to work, blinded by sunbeams bouncing off of crystallized snow. Everything's white light and cold, his breath pluming and his hands numb in his mittens.
It doesn't get any warmer when he parks his car and tucks his keys in the pocket of his jacket, jingling and cold, poking out at odd angles. It gets even colder when he scuttles across icy pavement and waddles inside, ripping off his stocking cap and fluffing a hand through his messy hair, cheeks brazen red.
And it get colder still when he sees Liam sitting at a table near the backroom, all by himself, hands folded over a book atop the table, lips pursed and brows furrowed.
What the hell?
Frowning, Louis' strides slow. Isn't he supposed to be with Harry right now? Or, at least, soon? Shouldn't he be getting ready? Doing his hair? Snapchatting everyone? Updating his relationship status on Facebook?
"Payno?" he calls tentatively, voice sounding just as unsure as he feels as he walks to the table.
Liam lifts his head almost immediately, his frown deepening the moment he meets eyes with Louis. "Hey." His tone is off.
Louis stops, bites the cushion of his lip. Instinctually, his hands tighten in his jacket pockets, his posture stiffening because something feels wrong right now and that something feels like it has something to do with Louis.
"What's up?" he asks, feigning casual as he shifts his weight, closely watching as Liam gently unfolds his hands, picking up the book on the table and-
Louis' blood drains from his face.
Oh dear god. That's not a book. That's...
That's Louis' journal.
He stops breathing.
"Look, Liam, I-"
"You left this on the desk last night," Liam says calmly, quietly; too calmly, too quietly.
Louis swallows, clamps his jaw shut as he wills his pulse to remain steady, skin flushing with shame.
Moments pass, silence filled only by the bustle of Starbucks; coffee being poured, milk being steamed, syrups being pumped, voices carried and greetings called, crisp pastries being stuffed into bags and handed off to eager hands.
"You should've told me," Liam says at last, eyebrows creased as he thumbs gently at the journal before him.
"You shouldn't have read it," Louis argues, face so damn hot as his jaw clicks defiantly, standing tall and gripping the liner of his jacket for dear life.
"But I'm glad I did," Liam protests gently, turning in his seat to look at Louis full on, eyes wide and sad. Very brown. Very canine. "Like, I know I shouldn't have just started reading, Lou, but it was open, it was just sitting there, and I saw my name and I couldn't stop and..." He drifts off, lips thinning into a frown as he smoothes another hand over the cover, Louis shrinking in his shoes. He looks up. "I didn't know."
YOU ARE READING
Dreaming of You
FanfictionThe Begrudging Starbucks AU. The world is winter and steamed milk and creamy espresso shots. The world is a never ending queue. The world is a Starbucks logo and a pink-cheeked smile from Niall and a bored scowl from Zayn and the world is Louis watc...