Misunderstood (Lauren/You)

Chapter 3

LAUREN'S POV

"Thank you.." I said to (Y/N), breaking our silence but not our staring contest. (Y/N) looked at me confused but after a second or two she looked like she understood and gave me a small smile. "I wanted to thank you for sticking up for not only me but also for other women in particular. You're amazing." I told her smiling at her. She didn't say anything while I talked, she just studied me.

After I stopped talking she smiled at me again. "You don't say much, do you?" I asked her. "What is there to say? All I needed to say, I already said. Those guys are terrible and you deserve better, I mean anybody does. You're an amazing person, so you deserve someone who treats you that way. Anybody would be lucky to have you.." I heard her mumble the last part, aggressively picking up her drink and taking a sip looking away from me while I just couldn't help to find that cute.

I moved my hand across the table and placed it onto hers. She brought her attention back to me and looked from my hand to my eyes. "Thank you, that means allot." I told her. I smiled at her and she returned it. "No problem, I mean it. You deserve someone who treats you like the queen you are." She told me looking at our touching hands again but removing it afterwards. She looked away as I studied her. She was looking out the window, not once meeting my gaze or talking to me. This went on for a few minutes.

"What are your favorite bands, Lauren?" She asked me all of a sudden, still not looking at me. I was confused about why she asked be this. "Uhm, The 1975, Lana Del Rey, Ed Sheeran, Arctic Monkeys and some others." I told her. She nodded, still not looking at me. "What are your hobby's ?" She asked further. "Singing, writing, reading and some other things." I answered looking at the way she sipped her drink and looked out the windows as if she was a cowboy in a western movie; mysterious yet interesting to watch.

"And your past? What did you do before your career as a singer?" She asked me looking at her drink now. "I was in school, hung out with friends, played softball and spend time with my family as much as I could." I told her.

She looked up from her drink and looked me directly in the eyes as if looking for something. Her eyes looked like they went right trough my soul.

After a few seconds she sighed. "I don't get it." She whispered more to herself than to me or anyone else. "What don't you get?" I asked her. "I just don't get it. You're perfect yet you dated those douch bags. You just told me those amazing artists, which means you have good taste of music. You write and read, which makes you intelligent and good with words and finding the meaning behind them. You hung out with friends, which makes you social. You played softball, which means you're girl you can talk and watch sports with. You spend time with your family, which means you think family is very important. And you have your own successful career build up, which means that you don't need anyone else to lean on for money or whatsoever. In other words; you're amazing. So I don't understand why you dated those losers." (Y/N) told me. I stayed silent as I looked at her confused facial expression.

"It was management." I told her after a moment of silence. She looked at me straight in the eye. "It wasn't my choice, I had to date Brad. We had to act like a couple in public, while in private him and his band mates always tried to flirt with me and stuff but I rejected them every single time. So then they got tired of it and told the media those lies." I told her. She studied me, not saying a word. But I could tell she was listening to what I had to say, and looked at me with an understanding look.

We looked at each other and she smiled at me, signaling that she understood. She looked like she wanted to say something, but when she opened her mouth she got interrupted by Jenna. "Lauren, (Y/N/N), we're going back to our hotel and the Fifth Harmony girls are joining us. Let's go." She told us.

We all got up and (Y/N) walked ahead of all of us. Nicki jogged after her, putting her arm around (Y/N)'s waist while they walked. Nicki was talking to (Y/N), but (Y/N) turned her head around to look at me and gave me a small smile.

What is that feeling I get in my stomach every time she looks at me?