Sharing Louis Tomlinson (Larry AU) COMPLETED

That Was A Crazy Afternoon, And I Hate Compliments.

What feels like hours later, I stare dejectedly into the brown and green of the forest. My lashes are damp, my cheeks sting and I can only hearing my breathing.

I'm a fucking idiot.

I'm shivering because I'm cold. The sun can't get to me here, and I know how hot it would be in the field. I shouldn't have come here with wet hair. It's dried now, messily, but I'm still cold.

I stopped crying a while ago, unable to produce any more tears, but my heart still feels the same. I need to get a hold on myself, turn my feelings off but it's easier said than done.

There's no way that this was over with Louis. He'd just skimmed the edge with what we could do, what he could get away with. He liked sex with me, and he admitted it outright that I was the best he'd ever had.

It would be easier when I got back home and away from camping. I can get other guys to fuck me, and pretend it doesn't matter that it isn't with him. He can run back into her arms, and decide when he wants me.

I can't wait. I can almost hear my own sarcasm.

I wipe at my face, because I need to get back. I check my phone and realise I had actually been here for 2 and a half hours. The guys are probably freaking out. I use my front camera to check out my face and realise it looks awful, so I dry it with my top before waiting. I can't go back like this.

I walk around in circles, checking my face every five minutes until it looks normal. And even then I wait another 10 minutes. I've been away 3 hours now.

I walk back the way I came, heading towards the showers in the distance. I decide to use the toilets there, because I'm only human and it's been hours since I'd last been.

Coming out, I bump into someone's chest which is saying something because I'm quite tall.

"Oops." I say, moving back clumsily, and the man in front of me grabs my arms because I trip back.

"Woah, sorry," A kind, posh voice says, and my eyes flicker up to an amazing pair of hazel eyes, set in a gently tanned face, a great white smile on his face. He cocks his head, his curly brown hair gently moving. "Are you alright?"

Jesus Christ, sex on legs. I feel myself blushing and it annoys me.

"I'm - yeah, I'm alright thank you," I stutter. "And you?"

What the fuck am I talking about? He shows off that fantastic smile again, and I swoon. Wow. I totally would kiss him. Or let him fuck me. Expect he looks like the type who fucks girls.

"I'm good, real good," He answers, looking pleasantly confused. "Are you a model?"

It completely throws me off.

"Me? I'm not - I don't - what?" I try to speak.

Isn't he a model?

"Oh, I really thought you were. You're gorgeous." He says, his eyes skimming over my features, succeeding in making me blush hard.

He probably doesn't fuck girls.

I'm aware his hands are still holding my arms, and I can feel how big they are.

"Oh, thank you, that's - well that's very kind." I say, bashfully tucking my hair behind my ear.

He cocks his head again, smiling gently.

"And true," He says. "Are you from around here?"

He lets go of my arms, but stays close and I can smell his cologne. I run my fingers through my hair, and I don't even know why I do it, but his eyes watch the movement.