The Tomlinsons | l.s. AU

Chapter 14 - Louis' POV

I still remember the first time I met her, Ivy. I remember the dress she wore and how she smiled. I still remember the friends that were standing beside her when I first laid my eyes on her. She looked so happy, so carefree, like she was exactly where she wanted to be. I knew I had to talk to her at some point. I was surrounded by Danish people, I was twenty-five years old and at this point, I already stopped believing in love. I felt like love is just something that is meant for certain people, for people who are good and smart and lovely. I definitely didn't think I could be compared to them. I still remember the poems I wrote at the time. So dark, so full of angst and hatred, not for others, but for myself. I hated how people around me knew exactly what they wanted and I didn't, I couldn't accept the fact that I wasn't only attracted to the opposite sex and I hated that I was alone.

Writing and making music helped me to lose myself for a bit, to stop thinking about perfect, happy people who had everything figured out. Music was one thing that I was good at and I knew I wanted to teach other children. So teaching music was the only obvious thing I wanted to do. I wanted to show to others what music can do to a person, I wanted to give them hope, because no one gave me hope.

And she was there, with a smile on her lips, in a dress, dancing around her body and looked like she didn't care about anything, other than happiness. She was there and she was the one, who caught my eye. I wanted to be her friend. I wanted to get to know her and how she coped with things. I wanted to know if she really had everything figured out.

"Hi." I said dumbly when I stopped at her side. She looked at me with her brown eyes, which made me feel warm and smiled. "Hi." She answered and waited for me to go on. From the accent I could hear that she was also British and that made me happy. There wasn't many British people there. To be honest, I haven't found any. I couldn't believe that I found her.

"So, I noticed you from afar and I just wanted to know if you wanted to hang out with me some time. And now I hear you're British, if I can judge by the accent?" I questioned it and she nodded. "Yep, that's right and so are you, as I hear? I would love to hang out with you, though."

I still remember our first date and how we talked about Denmark and how long we're staying, how we talked about our families and how she almost cried when she told me she only has one brother left. I still remember how everyone was saying we'd make a lovely couple, but I wasn't sure I wanted us to be. I still remember how I questioned my sexuality whenever I saw a man that made me turn my head. But I liked her, too. I did. And I didn't believe in love. The kind of love, people were talking about, the kind of love that makes your heart beat faster and when you touch the person and your body relaxes and tenses at the same time, the kind of love that makes you feel safe and at home. I didn't believe that there is someone out there that I will be able to tell everything, trust completely and hold close and be happy with. I didn't believe.

But Ivy was close enough. She was the only one who found interest in me, or rather more interest in me than usual. She was the one, who I told some of my secrets to and she was the one, with who I could imagine my life with. It wouldn't be perfect, but nothing is.

I still remember the date where we had our first kiss. It felt like it was expected at the time. We were hanging out for a while now, everyone thought we were a couple and she held my hand and calmed me down when I was nervous. We were at the age, when either we were doing that or not. She was looking at me, with her big, brown eyes, while laying on her bed and there was a complete silence. If you wanted to, you could hear a water drop. I knew, it was time. It was time to make it official and I just hoped nothing would go wrong. I loved spending time with her and since we got to know each other more and more, I grew to love her. She understood me, at least the understood what I told her and that made me happy. I wanted to do it right and I wanted to make her happy, too.