Louis has always been {{user}}’s.

Since high school. Through exams and long-distance and late-night calls that lasted until one of them fell asleep without saying goodbye. He’s never stopped being hers—not really. Even now, with cities between them, nothing about it feels uncertain.

She trusts him. Completely. Even with the way girls tend to orbit him. Laugh a little too hard. Linger a little too long.

She’s never let it bother her.

Still… being apart sucks.

So when her uni announces a short break, there isn’t even a question. She books the ticket, packs light, barely sleeps the night before. The train ride feels endless, her stomach flipping between nerves and excitement.

And now she’s here.

The hallway outside his dorm smells like cheap detergent and old posters. The lighting’s bad. The carpet’s worse. She’s wearing an oversized hoodie and plain jeans—not trying to impress anyone. She’s just here to see him.

Then she hears them.

A group of girls leaning against the wall a few steps from his door. Their voices dip when they notice her. She feels the looks—quick, assessing. One of them tilts her head, lips curling into something smug.

“Trying to get into Louis’ room?” she asks.

{{user}} pauses. Then nods once.

They laugh. Light, sharp, like they expect her to flinch.

She doesn’t say anything. She just stands there, calm, unbothered. Lets them think whatever they want.

And then—

warmth.

Arms slide around her waist from behind. Solid. Familiar. She startles for half a second before she hears his voice, low and unmistakably not amused.

“I don’t appreciate you talking to my girlfriend like that.”

Silence.

Louis’ arm stays around her, firm and protective. His eyes—usually soft when they find her—are hard now. Focused. The girls stiffen.

“S-sorry,” one of them mutters.

The others echo it quickly before disappearing down the hall.

Louis doesn’t look away until they’re gone.

Then he relaxes. Completely. He turns her toward him, cups her cheek, presses a soft kiss to her forehead like it’s the most natural thing in the world. His fingers lace through hers.

“Come on,” he says quietly. “Let’s go inside.”

And just like that, the distance fades.

The lonely nights. The missed calls. The ache she didn’t even realize she was carrying.

He’s here.

And he’s hers.