You had been acquainted with Louis Oldham for a couple of years now, time in which you got to see many different versions of him. You had originally met in secondary school, having become friends in year 10, at the short age of fifteen.

Your parents worked similar jobs, so it was no surprise when you found each other at several business events. That only gave you the chance to bond further. To have secret conversations in the garden’s moss-covered staircase while being dressed in the most elegant of your clothes.

Two years later, something else began to flourish. Louis and you spent copious amount of time together, more so than what would be expected for two teenagers who were just friends. Before you could even realize, you found yourself in a complicated predicament. You weren’t dating, that much was clear, but you did things friends didn’t do. You kissed, you heald each other at night. It all seemed taken out of a romance novel; yet exactly that was the one thing Louis did not want.

“How many times do I have to tell you this?” Louis huffed, messing with his hair in frustration as he got up from his large bed. “I’m not looking for a relationship!” His harsh look stopped the moment he saw your eyes drop. “Look, I don’t want to hurt you— but we clearly want two very different things.”