Cheeky ➻ Louis Partridge

25 | We're Both Idiots, And That's Okay

Y/N

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I AM NOT A MORNING PERSON.

Unlike what you might read in other books, my eyes do not simply 'flutter open'. They just stay closed until I rub them so hard they are forced to part. Then I would roll out of bed, knock my head on a table, curse at the table, go to the bathroom and get scared of my tangled hair.

But somehow today was different.

Instead of hearing an annoying alarm blast through my brain, I heard the sound of a soft thump, thump, thump.

Like a heartbeat.

Louis' heartbeat.

Rubbing my eyes open, I waited for my vision to clear to, before realizing where I was. We had fallen asleep on the roof, his arms wrapped around me, and my head pressed against his chest like I was using him for a makeshift pillow.

"Louis..?" I mumbled quietly, slowly sitting upright.

turning to look at him, I realized he was still asleep. His lips were curled into a soft smile, and his hair was covering his eyes. Maybe it was best if I didn't wake him. Turning my head, I realized that it was already far into the morning, the sounds of London already coming to life per usual. It looked different from up here on the roof.

It was also slightly chilly, considering we didn't have a blanket, but it was fine. I was too busy imagining the looks on his parent's faces when I somehow ended up walking down the stairs and out their front door.

I felt the boy shift around, and I glanced his way.

"Morning..." I heard him hum, his voice deeper with exhaustion, "how long have you been awake?"

I laughed at his deep voice, remembering he had just woken up. His brown hair was piled messily on top of his head, and his nose was slightly pink with the cold, but he looked adorable nonetheless.

"Five minutes," I answered, a smile on my face, "give or take."

He chuckled softly, "what are you thinking about?"

"You."

He laughed, placing his hand on my face, and slowly running his thumb back and forth against my cheek. We just stared at each other for a moment, our morning grogginess still kicking in. His hands were warm, balancing out the chilly London breeze.

"I like this," he smiled, sitting up, "your face being the first thing I see in the morning."

I raised my eyebrow, "even with my tangled hair?"

"Even with your tangled hair," he laughed, "I certainly don't think I look any good."

"I think you look fine," I teased, combing out his messy hair with my fingers.

It seemed miraculous how soft his hair still was. It was like a cloud that ran smoothly through my fingers as I brushed it to the side. I could do this forever—

Before I could finish my thought, my phone started to ring from a few paces across the roof, the sound echoing out loudly into the air. I glanced at Louis in interrupted disappointment, before letting out a groan and standing onto my feet.

bending down to pick up my phone, I flipped it around to see who was calling. As soon as I glanced at the contact, the call ended. I must have been too late.

"Oh gosh," I said, scrambling back over to Louis, "I messed up."

He bit his lip, "what's wrong?"

"I forgot to tell Sadie I found you, and never came back home."

"Is that bad?"

"She probably thinks I died!"

Louis tilted his head in amusement, "well she'll see you alive when we get to the theater."

"You're right," I sighed, letting out a breath and plopping down next to him.

Was I being a bad friend by not texting back? I sent her my location last night at least, so she knew where I was. But should I have said something?

I glanced over at Louis, who was scooting himself behind me and wrapping his arms around me. I pressed my head against his in thought. Maybe he was right. Sadie and Caleb would realize I was okay once we got to the theater.

Theater.

For Romeo and Juliet.

"LOUIS!" I yelled, scrambling back onto my feet, "get up!"

He whined, rolling onto his back, "I don't want to..."

"We have to go, now!"

"Why?"

Grabbing his shoulders and hoisting him up, I nudged him in the shoulder in panic, "rehearsals started an hour ago!"

After staying up so late to look for the boy, we must have overslept to make up for lost sleep. Now we were late for a show that could have been cancelled if Louis didn't run into me on the train.

Thank gosh for the tea.

"Come on," I said, holding out my hand, "we can take the train."