LOUIS’ POV

She can make hell feel like home. Perhaps that’s the reason why my such high expectations have never worked out when it comes to friendships and relationships. I mean, don’t get me wrong - everyone is perfect with their own special quirks and flaws and perfections; but no one - no one could ever make the hell inside of me feel - homely. I use to crave a love so deep’ the ocean would be jealous. Now days, a bittersweet silent companionship was more than enough. A day filled with children’s chatter, banter and incurable laughter along with papers marked until my fingers could barely lit the pen, had a perfect ending of fast, loud music and sweet mahogany coloured whiskey.

I wasn’t sure what had convinced me that starting a conversation up with a girl who seemed out of her element was meant to achieve. I guess for my own personal satisfaction and for sweet kicks, I just wanted to see if I still had it. Whatever ‘it’ is. Another swig at the bar and fingers tapping against the crystal glass to the drum beat pumping through my veins off of the stage behind me, a flavour as bitter as my ex’s final words trapped itself inside me and funnily enough - for once, I couldn’t complain.

“I thought you said you’d met a girl.”

Peeling my eyes off the clock above the spirits shelf, I let them wander to the worker standing behind the bar who was aimlessly polishing glasses and champagne flues as if it was his job. I smirked, shaking my head and kicked my bottom lip, amused at my friends banter.

“I did meet a girl”, I replied softly playing with my watch. It was just before 8, and from experience, I could never expect a woman to be on time.
“Oh yeah, well then.. where is she?”, Harry asked, his green eyes as potent as absinthe; reminding me of how badly I’d been craving something a little stronger lately.
“She’ll be here…”
“Lou, if she’s like any of the others you pick up, she’ll either never find her way here or get scared off by—.”

“HEY!”

Watching Harry swallow his words at the appearance of an expected stranger, I shifted my stance around and rested up on my forearm against the bar, a small grin pursing over my lips but nothing to show I was overly pleased that she’d made it.

“Indiah…”, I let out with a single breath.
“Louis..”, she responded copying my tone, “Oh um…”, she continued to stutter, “This is Willow, you two ugh, briefly met over the phone..”
“Nice to put a face to a voice”, I joked, offering out my hand for a shake. Harry and exchanged a glance which I was more than prepared for.
“So you are real?”, Willow questioned with an eyebrow and expression which mimicked curiosity.
“Did you girls want a drink?”, I offered, standing upright. I hadn’t expected Indiah to show up to be honest; most girls who agreed to meet up with me were either straight up psychotic or just wanted the thrill of a man for the night. I wouldn’t shy away from saying that both these options turned out to be fun at least every once in a while, yet after having my heart ripped out, skewered and toasted as a dogs breakfast, I wasn’t in the mood for an easy ride.

“I um..”, Indiah stuttered again. Her pauses and carefreeness gave of this childish notion of her not having grown up which I made a mental note of enquiring about.
“How about you two.. go find a seat. I’m going to go dance and I’m sure bartender boy here has some work to do”, Willow suggested, eventually introducing herself to Harry.
“Yeah, that.. sounds like awesome idea”, Harry continued, “I’ll bring some drinks over. You guys hungry?”, he asked, “Of course you are”, he went on not letting us answer.

Finding a free seat towards the back of the pub and leading Indiah over, I wanted until she’d take her seat first before taking my own. I could see Harry from the corner of my eye organising some things through the peep hole in the kitchen and noticed that Indiah watched as Willow made herself comfortable on the dance floor - drawing in attention left, right and centre.

“So how was work?”, I asked quietly, gently creeping into conversation. I watched as Indiah’s eyes snapped towards me after outlining the nonsense which covered the pub walls and fidgeted in her seat making herself comfortable.
“Work.. um, work was fine”, she smiled. Her pearly whites shone behind red painted lips just the way I’d seen her the other day; raven coloured hair, curled and rested over one shoulder. She was different to the other girls I’d spoken to in the last week, in my last - forever. So safe guarded. So..

“So where are all the tattoos?”, Indiah commented. I pulled at the sleeves of my shirt and smiled, looking at the ground. Work enforced the fact that I cover up around the students, especially when I had work with the elementary aged kids. Occasionally, when I did high school substituting, I could push the limits of enforcement and pull the strings of management a little.
“Heh.. yeah.. I um, I thought I’d dress for the occasion”, I admitted.
“And what’s the occasion?”, she asked, her head resting in her hand, and eyes as navy as the British seas, gazed at me.
“I’m not sure if you’d call this a date…”, I proposed.
“I um..”, she mumbled, stretching her arms out in front of her, “I don’t really do dates. I mean, I do.. but the guy always turned out to be a jerk or just.. really, strange and I stutter and nothing ever happens again—.”
“Okay”, I cut her off, sensing a gentle relief feeling come from her, “We won’t call this a date”, I suggested rubbing at the stubble on my chin, “But I can’t guarantee I won’t ask you out on one by the nights end.”

INDIAH’S POV

I wasn’t sure what it was about tonight, perhaps something which Harry had poured into our drinks or the kitchen staff had sprinkled over the food which was brought out, but everything was going seemingly all too well. I gave up trying to be in control of the conversation as well as the night in general. Thinking only caused my head to slur what vocals would be eventually slipped out between my lips and when I thought, paused and collected, I usually just made and idiot out of myself.

So far I’d learnt that despite his appearance, Louis was quite the carer and high achiever. Younger siblings, home owner, double bachelors degree, sports enthusiast, tinkering musician, love not a fighter. I guess it had of been wrong for me to jump to conclusions when I first met him, but of course; I still kept my guard up - there was no way a prince charming was just going to walk straight through into my life without complications.

“What did you say you’re last name was again?”, I asked for what must have been the dozenth time that night.
“Tomlinson”, he repeated again without fuss.
“Tomlinson…”, I mumbled under my breath, “It has a nice ring to it.”

Watching as Louis semi-choked on his beer, I felt a vibration go off in my pocket and pulled my pager out, reading its screen underneath the table.

Short of staff. 11pm start possible? - L

I sighed, sinking into my seat and, rubbed my temples thinking of a way to make this all work.

“Everything all right?”, Louis asked noticing my change in demeanour.
“Yeah..”, I let out defeated, “Just work wants me to come in. Short staffed.”
“Do you have to go?”, he asked. I noticed as his eyes wandered past me towards Willow who had had a few too many drinks and was still circling her way amongst men on the dance floor.
“Yeah”, I nodded, I didn’t need to - but I felt as if his attention had been torn between trying to keep me amused and the possibility of something more. “Listen, how about you ask Willow to keep you company for the rest of the night and I.. I’ll disappear without a trace?”

Pushing myself up and collecting my things from the table top, I let out a deep breath and ran my free fingers through my hair annoyed at I’d even suggested such a thing.

“I’d rather you stay”, Louis replied, catching me off guard. His fingers tapped to the beat of my favourite song the band was playing a cover of and my heart sank a little. A feeling I hadn’t experienced in a while.
“I.. um…”. My cheeks blushed 50 shades of red. My mouth moved in ways as if I was trying to get out anything which popped into my head.
“Maybe, I can see you tomorrow?”, he asked.
“Yeah”, I blurted out, “I mean, sure.. I mean.. sorry if you, expected something more tonight..”
“Expectation is the root of all heartache”, he mentioned.
“Did you just quote Shakespeare?”, I asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Perhaps”, he shrugged with a childish smile.

It was an awkward case of not a single goodbye said and the next 48 hours planned out in a whirlwind mix of phrases. Willow convinced me she’d be able to get home alone and Louis was more than a gentleman to offer to drive me home but I figured the quicker I got to work, threw on a pair of scrubs I’d kept in my locker and started; the quicker the shift would end. Turning my phone onto silent and pager on loud, I clipped them to my belt before quickly getting changed in the locker rooms and heading off to the administration desk to collect my clipboard.

“Evening Lucy”, I called out, reaching over the desk to collect my board. It wasn’t slit into the mailbox like usual.
“Indi? What are you doing in tonight?”, the older woman asked, pushing her glasses up onto her face. I spun around to give her a strange look, laughing at the joke she was pulling on me.
“Lucy, you paged me in!”, I half yelled, fingers crossed quickly hoping that this wasn’t some joke one of the new interns was playing on me.
“No, no I didn’t.”

I grabbed my pager from my belt and checked it for the message.

Gone.
What the?

“I swear you messaged me. I was in the middle of a date and…”
“Oh you had a date?”, she enquired bubbly.
“Sorta”, I quickly shut my mouth. Lucy gave me a look of motherly-ness which meant she wanted details at some point and I knew I’d said too much, “So wait, am I working tonight or…”
“Well, you’re here, so you might as well get your station ready. I’ll send your board up once I get it ready.”

A nod and falling into seriousness quickly, I wandered down the hall towards wing C; through towards my nurses station and pulled my access card down from around my neck, swiping myself through. That was funny.. the green light had stayed green, not changing to allow in my access card. Pushing the door open firmly, I could hear rumbling and gentle clinking of metals and glass rolling against one another.

“Hello?”, I called out, shutting the door behind me, “Hello?”

Taking a few more small steps in, I noticed a figure standing in front of my collection station, a blood test arm band wrapped around their left upper arm and small, intricate needle pierced through their skin. They weren’t withdrawing though, they were.. injecting.

“What on earth?”, I snapped, causing the person to turn around.
“Indiah?”, he deep American accent responded, turning around to show himself as Greg. This didn’t make sense.
“What are you doing in here Greg?”, I asked, unclipping the band from his arm and pulling the needle from his skin. What on earth was he injecting into himself?
“Greg, what’s going on?”, I asker sternly, wanting an answer.

“I think that’s what we should be asking you Ms Montgomery”, a senior doctor asked from behind me. I turned to see him, and a female officer both standing at the door. I dropped what I was holding, hearing the needle smash against the ground and it’s metal tip roll and dance along the tiles like a nightmare and lullaby.

“Oh shit..”

Notes

Things are about to start getting interesting; so please.. bare and keep up with me!