Ronan: To the Moon and Back

Unexpectedly, and figuratively running into Louis at the little coffee shop while supposedly daydreaming was fine. Leaning over and smelling someones tea who is just shy of being a complete stranger (who honestly sniffs tea like that, she's a proper moron) was fine. Being nosy and rummaging through his mates car while driving to jump start her mums was fine. The offer of gas money (and the refusal of reviving said money, "Just take the damn money, you loon!" "You can't tell me what to do!" Followed by a very mature gesture of sticking out ones tongue) was fine, the whole ride was fine. What was not fine, not by any means, was the still missing camera.

Her camera with all those pictures from the hospital, ones of Ronan and their mum, ones of pretty flowers and rain clouds. Of old, loving couples and vintage broken bikes, all currently lost on the memory card of the camera, in her brown withering bag. It's what she gets for not uploading the oldest pictures immediately. She should've have used her film one instead.

Rae has been home from the hospital for two hours now. She was in the middle of cooking herself a simple dinner of spaghetti and meatballs when she had the abrupt urge to search for her bag gone AWOL. She looked through her car three times, inspected all three bedrooms of the house, the bathrooms, the laundry room, the small back yard and finds absolutely nothing. She sighs, closing her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose. She can recall vaguely not having it with her on the drive home that day, but the nurses at their station swear they haven't seen it, nor has it been returned.

"I bloody swear." Rae mumbles to herself out of sheer frustration, shoving one hand in her hair and pulling lightly. "Where could it be?"

The water in the pot of spaghetti boils over, hissing angrily on the burner. Rae feels the same, wanting to just boil over because she doesn't want to deal with foamy water and noodles stuck together because she didn't stir them. All she wants is her damn pictures on that damn camera in that damn bag. And okay, she doesn't really ever damn the bag, because she can't and won't damn anything touched by her cousin.

While Rae drains the noodles, still clinging together like they're spaghetti kolas, and just opts to making a small meatball sandwich instead, a round of knocks sound at the door. Rae freezes, sandwich halfway to her mouth mid air. Not many people come knocking around dinner time, ever, so caution is present when she puts down her food and quietly tiptoes towards the door. She eyes the cricket bat her mum keeps by the door, just in case, before she leans up to peek through the eye hole. She starts, shocked by the person standing on her stoop. Confused, and possibly a little creeped that he's standing there, she opens the door.

"I'm sorry," Rae starts lightly, crossing her arms teasingly. "Shouldn't this be the other way around? Not you somehow knowing where I live, which quite honestly, is rather creepy."

Just standing there is Louis smiling sheepishly, shrugging his shoulders. "Is it still creepy if I found your house from this?"

He pulls his arm out from behind his back, clutching the one thing that gave her anxiety the past two days, in his hand. There, in all its leathery glory, is her camera bag, held tightly in Louis' hand by the strap. Rae straightens, surprised and suddenly very happy.

"Where'd you find it!?" She questions, grateful as her arms fall from their crossing and reaching to take the bag carefully from Louis. She doesn't bother with formalities, just turns to quickly place the bag down on the couch several feet in, to make sure it's all there. Her camera is in tact, charger still neatly rolled up, the extra memory cards and lens in smaller pockets. She smiles to herself, hugely relived.

"Uhm-" Louis clears his throat, standing awkwardly on the porch. "I've...had it? You left it in the playroom at the Hospice."

Rae pauses momentarily before turning back to face him. "You've had it for two days, and you didn't call? Or rather just turn it in to the front desk? Or tell me about it this whole time?"

Louis cringes a little, guilt written all over his face, yet keeps that shit eating smile on his lips. "In my defense...you left? I returned it after today. I was going to bring it by the hospital when I got the chance."

Rae narrows her eyes at him, sizing him up and deciding if she should continue her half teasing anger, or just thank him. Honestly, all that matters is that the bag is once again in her arms and the pictures can still be sent out before midnight. That, and she can sleep easier at night knowing it's back where it belongs.

"You are quite strange, Louis Tomlinson." She decides firmly. "Would you like some tea?"

Louis breathes out a sigh of relief, smile softening into one that recognizes when someone's taking the piss out of him. "As lovely as that sounds, I can't. Must be getting back to-"

"The love of your life?" Rae offers, mirth in her voice.

"No, as a matter of fact. I left Harry in the car so, I must be getting back to-"

"So yeah. Love of your life."

Louis stops mid sentence, pointing a finger at the teasing girl. "You are," he begins slowly, amusement lacing through his words, "a cheeky little thing."

"You stole my bag." Rae counters with raised eyebrows, challenging.

"I did a good deed, returning it."

"Thief."

"I've got a band meeting and you're very well keeping me from it, you know."

"So, four loves of your life then. That's not a lie." Rae leans around Louis to wave at Harry from her door. She can't tell if he sees her, due to the tinted glass, until he rolls down his window to animatedly wave back at her.

"True. At least I can keep track of mine." He says, nodding towards her bag.

Rae straights and gapes. "Hey! You took it remember." She points an accusing finger at him. "Besides...I was distracted." Rae trails off and just like that, without really meaning to, the joking mood vanishes and Louis' smile flips downward.

"I know," He says softly, finally stepping inside a few feet. "I was only teasing."

Rae nods, offering her best smile. "Really though, thank you."

"Good deed."

"Right, still doesn't overlook how creepy this is." She tells him. Louis sticks his tongue out, because apparently he's five. Behind him, Harry honks the horns. "Go on now. Your meeting awaits."

With that, Rae shoos him off with the wave of her hand, after a moment of split awkwardness where Louis leans in. His hesitation for a hug is covered when Rae just goes for it, lasting only for a few seconds, before bidding each other good night. As Rae shuts the door, she thinks maybe she should reconsider having put her address on the little tag connected to the bag. Then again, maybe not.
***

Notes

I crack myself up with irony