29 - Little Hipster Vlogger

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AN - Wow this took longer than expected to write! Ahh!

OMG also... 40,000 reads! WHAT THE ACTUALLY HELL IS GOING ON!? I cannot believe it!

I also just want to do a shoutout to @sluttyliam. Now she is also writing a larry fanfic, and she is one of my best friends. But seriously, her fic is AMAZING and you need to read it!

*Spoiler* You will cry...

The song for this chappie is Grade 8 by King Edward Sheeran. Ugh so much love for him...

As always vote/fan/comment if you like, I really hope you do like it, and I am buzzing with all of the supportive comments I have been getting, you guys are unbelievable!

Love you all my sweetums!

Eleanor really was a lovely girl. Really, she was. But Louis just didn’t want to meet her in the coffee shop that morning, or pick up the phone when she called, or reply to her texts – but he did it anyway, because she was his girlfriend and he didn’t want to seem like a bastard to another person he cared about.

Since Louis closed the door on Harry two days ago, he just couldn’t think straight.

He saw the green of his irises every time he closed his eyes, and it was captivating. He knew he shouldn’t be feeling as much like the living definition of crap as he was; because when he thought about it, he wasn’t the one who had to see the person they still cared about with someone else.

As Louis sat opposite Eleanor in Starbucks, holding his cappuccino close to his chest, his mind wandered off whilst Eleanor talked animatedly about her last class in Uni. He knew he should listen and be interested in what she had to say, because that’s what boyfriends do, right? But he couldn’t, he really couldn’t. Not when thoughts of voluminous curls and long, lean torso were flitting around his head.

Louis sat and wondered about what Harry was doing at that moment. Maybe he was sat at Niall’s feeling as shitty as he did sitting in the bustling Starbucks in outer London. Maybe he had called his Mum and she had come down to comfort him, and she was making him his favourite soup to eat whilst they watched Happy Feet together. Maybe he was refusing to talk anyone because he was so upset, and he was locked away in his bedroom. Or maybe he was fine. Maybe he realised that it wasn’t going to work, and he was currently sneaking out of some stranger’s bedroom after a night out, because he too had moved on.

The thing that had Louis reeling in his seat - as Eleanor sipped quietly at her coffee when she realised that Louis wasn’t really listening - was that maybe he hasn’t moved on.

Surely if he was over Harry, he wouldn’t feel this racing in his heart and flutter in his tummy when he remembered the good times with Harry, and wouldn’t sit and dream of having more – whilst sitting with his girlfriend?

Right, girlfriend.

Louis didn’t really know what to do about that.

He had met Eleanor in the pub, along with Liam and Danielle, and Niall and a girl he had recently met – Rhianne. Eleanor was obviously a lovely girl: really pretty; very friendly, but not creepily so; with a great sense of humour. Louis had naturally began to talk to her, seeing as they were the only ones without a ‘date’ as such (even though Niall swore that he and Rhianne were only friends), and they got on instantly.

One thing led to another, and soon Louis and Eleanor were texting regularly – because Louis really did like her – and it just seemed like a natural progression for Louis to ask her to dinner one Friday night. He didn’t ask her with the plan to ask her out, he genuinely did just like spending time with her as a friend, but she looked at him with such hope in her eyes and she held herself so close as they linked arms on the way to the restaurant; that Louis found himself asking her to be his girlfriend before he even realised what he was doing.

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