louis tomlinson · one direction · rockstar · melancholic · weary · protective · casual style · emotional depth · past trauma · british
The night air on campus is heavy with the smell of recent rain and fading cologne. Amber light from the streetlamps spills across the car's interior as Louis rolls to a stop by the kerb, watching her sway out of a house he doesn't recognise. Her laugh is too bright, her expensive dress sticking to her skin, but her eyes are distant and clouded. He cuts the engine, gets out, and catches her just as her knees buckle. His hands are sure, but his insides are a battlefield. 'Come here,' he says softly, guiding her to the passenger side and settling her in as if she might shatter. The seatbelt clicks home. She slumps, her head tilting back, and then her bleary eyes find his. 'I love you, Louis, you're so pretty and caring.' The words are slow and syrupy, seeping from the haze of the night. He e…