Waiting For You (A Louis Tomlinson Fan Fiction)

Chapter 5

Cassie P.O.V.

Dear Louis,

Hey BooBear! Only two more months till you can come home! I've been counting down by the minute.
I got your call the other day, and I was freaking out on the inside! I couldn't exactly understand all of it, but from what I heard, you're loving tour and have gotten all of my letters.
And i don't think you mentioned anything about Eleanor. You didn't need to, though.
I may or may not have been stalking your boyband while you're away.
Not sure how I feel about her, but I might like her once i get to know her better.
I still miss you. I hope you'll sneak another call from your tour bus soon!
I've been seeing a therapist since Devin's... distractions... haven't really worked out.
It's been better than before. Like way better.
I would write more, but I have to go to the therapist soon.
(By the way, she thinks these letters are a good idea, even when we didn't know you were receiving them.)
Bye for now!

~Cass

I wrap the note in the envelopeand place the stamp on the back of it. I grab a coat and my purse as i get up, then speedwalking out the door to the mailbox. I put the letter in carefully and switch the flag up for the mailman.

I turn around quickly to run over to my car when I suddenly bump into someone.

Of course, the mail man.

"Oh hey friend!" Yes, I can now call the mail man my friend because I talk to him every day. But I'm not so sure he's too fond of me. "Yeah, I'm in a little bit of a hurry, but make sure that letter goes to Louis Tomlinson? Yeah, I've been telling you this all year, but you know what if you all of a sudden forgot? Or you got amnesia? Or you--"

"Yep, I gotcha kid. Hurry along now," he says, shooing me away.

"Well someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed," I mumble, jogging over to my car and opening the door. I hop into the driver's seat and start the car.

I drive over to Devin's house, which is right across the street.

DING DONG.

When Devin comes to the door, I scream as loud as I can in her face. "DING DONG."

"WHY?"

"BECAUSE."

"Oh."

"Let's go. MOVE MOVE MOVE." I drag her over to my car and shove her into it. She probably felt a lot of pain. Poor Devin. That probably caused her a lot of pain.

HAHAHAHAHA. She deserved that.

I drive a few miles down to the therapist's office and drag Devin into the waiting room, plopping her down in a chair and sitting on top of her.

"Hi Devin," I say.

"C-cassie... can't... b-breathe... GET... OFF..."

"That's the response I get from a simple 'Hi'? Well that's not very nice," I respond with a smirk.

All of a sudden I'm on the ground. "OW DEVIN. NORMAL PEOPLE FEEL PAIN OKAY." Yeah that hurt. "Why am I friends with you again?"

"Because you loooovvee me."

"Sure."

"Devin and Cassie?" Both of our heads turn to see our therapist waiting for us to follow her. We scramble up from where we are on the ground and walk over to her and follow her to the room like nothing happened.

　

 

　

***

 

"I want you to close your eyes and empty your mind. Now pick up your paintbrush and paint across the canvas whatever your hand wants to paint," the therapist speaks softly to me while Devin watches. My paintbrush had previously been dipped in black paint, so now apparently I have to paint whatever my hand wants to do. I don't understand at all because all I can do is randomly stroke the canvas with my brush.

Oh well.

I empty my mind. I don't know how that's going to work with making a painting, but I'll try. I randomly swirl the paintbrush around on the canvas, occasionally dipping the brush in paint witht he help of Devin when they tell me I run out of paint.

I paint and paint for a long, long time until my wrist and fingers are numb.

When I open my eyes, Devin and my therapist are wide-eyed with gaping mouths.

I give them confused looks until Devin gestures for me to look at the now full canvas. I turn my head in the direction of my painting and when I see what I have made my eyes widen.

It's Louis.

 

　

***

"Do you draw, like, popart or something? Have you ever taken an art class?" Devin asks me in the car on the ride home.

"No, I told you, I have never been good at drawing. But, I might be now, since our therapist told me to practice that at home until next week."

"Okay, BYE CUDDLE BUDDY," she says, booping my nose and hopping out of the car. "Boop."

Strange girl. Sometimes I wonder.