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"Can you speak French?" I ask him.
"Yes. Can you?"
"A little. I know the basic stuff like oui, bonjour, croissant, baguette. Also, j'veux ton amour, et je veux ta revanche."
He stops in his tracks and looks at my mouth. No, he 𝘴𝘵�...
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Things have been great with Louis.
And by great, I mean even better than when we started out. He's so much more open with me now.
Yes, we're both still closed-off people, but now it's like we fully know each other.
It's amazing.
Is it weird to have a giddy schoolgirl crush on your boyfriend?
It's mid-March, which means my birthday is in less than a month.
I know birthdays are meant to be exciting, but I'm turning twenty. I should be happy about it, but instead, I'm trying to keep myself from having a panic attack.
I want so badly to believe that aging is a beautiful thing, but it isn't.
Every year is a year closer to death and further from your childhood.
I hate growing up.
I've talked to Louis about my stress on this subject, but he doesn't seem to understand. The way he was raised is very different to the way I was raised.
He never really had a childhood. He was more mature at ten than I am now.
Sometimes I think about how different Louis and I are and how shocking it is that we're working out, but then I remember that if we were too alike, it wouldn't work as well as it does.
We balance each other out.
I'm sitting on my floor, sorting through some clothes. I want to get rid of some of them. I have way too many.
Maybe I can sell a few things and make some money. Or I can donate it to people in need.
Okay, I'm definitely donating it to homeless shelters. They need things more than I need money.
Frankie walks into my room, not bothering to knock. "Hey."
"Can you knock?"
"No. That's stupid. Why would I knock?"
"Uh. I don't know." I feign thinking hard. "Maybe privacy. What if I was having sex?"
"Murderer man isn't here so that's unlikely. Unless you're cheating."
I get awkward at the mention of Louis and sex, considering we haven't done that yet.
