nameless night

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Louis woke up to someone grabbing his ankle and tugging lightly. He groaned, pulling his duvet over his head and kicking his feet out to get rid of the intruder.

"Loooooouuuis." That was Lottie, definitely. "Come on, get up."

"Fuck off," he mumbled into his pillow, quite sure she couldn't even hear him.

Someone pulled the duvet away and Louis instantly curled up, whining in his throat.

"Louis, we've got breakfast ready." And that was Fizzy. So she was the mean one to steal his duvet. She would pay for that.

Before Louis could even grasp another thought, though, four hands came to tickle him. They had no mercy, no matter how much he tried to squirm away.

"Get up, Lou!" Daisy and Phoebe yelled, both on his bed now, pinning him down.

When Louis finally opened his eyes, the first thing he took in was his mother standing in the door frame, smiling fondly. "Why are you doing this to me?"

"Happy Birthday!" his sisters all said in unison, and tackled him again, everyone trying to hug him at the same time. Louis tried to get a hold of them as best as he could, but all he managed was to get a lot of hair in his mouth and be squaished by eight arms. He sighed and gave up, letting himself relax into the strange hug.

"Thanks," he mumbled, trying to get Lottie's hair out of his mouth. "You could have let me sleep, though."

"It's almost ten," his mother said when she came over. "And we've got a bit more planned than just celebrating your birthday today."

Louis tilted his head, so his mother could kiss his cheek. Like every year, it was not only Louis' birthday, it was Christmas Eve, too, and that meant that there were a lot of preparations to carry out for their Christmas Dinner next day.

His sisters let go of him and Phoebe took his hand to lead him downstairs. He followed obediently and grinned when he spotted the table in their dining room. He smelled eggs and bacon, and there was a plate for everyone.

"Where is Dad?" Louis asked after counting the plates.

"Already at work," Jay answered while she brought over a pot of baked beans. "Sit down, baby, and eat."

Louis thought that despite the misery of getting presents only once a year, his birthday was the nicest of them all. He got to have breakfast with his family every year and spend all day with them. There wasn't anything better than that.

"Your first present," his mother announced when he finished eating, "is this."

Louis frowned at the simple white envelope in her hands. His name was printed in the centre, no address, no additions. It only read in bold, plain letters Louis William Tomlinson.

For a moment, he had no idea what that was about, but then it hit him. He was eighteen. This was his eighteenth birthday, and that meant he was of age, and of legal age to get married. That obviously meant he had to meet the person he would marry one day.

There would be a date in there. Only a small piece of paper with a date that would tell him when he was going to meet his soulmate. Not where, not how, not who. Just when.

Swallowing thickly, Louis kept staring at it. Everyone received this letter on their eighteenth birthday, and Louis wondered if all of them were as nervous as him before opening it. He had completely forgotten about it, had banned the whole thing from his mind. But now that he held the letter in his hands, Louis couldn't pretend any longer that it wasn't happening.

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