"You're wearing that? All week, you have been in long sleeves, and it's still hot out," Hannah scoffs, taking in the black, long sleeve shirt that I have on. My heart sinks drastically, wanting to tell her the actual reason for it. She even noticed the hoodies I've been wearing to bed the last few nights, finding it odd. "You're not sick, are you? Maybe you have a fever and chills," she tries to feel my forehead.

"I'm not sick," I move away from her touch. My stomach twists violently. "Some of the lecture halls are just freezing. They have the air on max," I answer in a small voice. She sighs with a disapproving nod. My hand gently touches my left forearm, which still feels tender. I have long sleeves, but I'm terrified someone will see right through this shirt and notice.

"How are you holding up?" she randomly asks, fixing a blue earring to her left ear.

"About?" my body tenses.

"Louis being around," she answers quietly so that no one hears in passing. My skin crawls by the mention of his name alone. "I'm fine," I answer dully, and she deadpans. She knows I'm not. "I'll see you later. A couple more lectures before I go to that convention later, so maybe late tonight."

"Try to come to the party after," she pleads innocently. I laugh softly and turn away to head to my lecture. That's probably the most I've talked to anyone all week after Monday night. I've shut down a bit and spoke to Josh when necessary over text. I've been making little excuses about already having to do a paper for my World Literature class. He's still so frustrated about the other day that he doesn't care that we are apart, and he only wants the usual updates on my whereabouts.

Louis sits beside me, but I don't look his way or acknowledge him. I haven't spoken a word to him since the encounter the other night, and he hasn't said anything either. Maybe he finally senses that I don't want to be bothered. Maybe he's too timid to ask about the other night. I don't know, and I don't care. I just want to be alone anyways.

"Alright, class, I'm going to get started. I want everyone to pick a partner for the project due by midterms. That way, we can get it out of the way and give you all some spare time to read the two books," Professor Sinclair announces. Instantly, the rest of the class is chatting away to talk to potential partners. My insides are hollow and numb. I don't want to do this.

"Will you be my partner?" Louis asks quietly. I look up to see him gazing directly at me. There's something different in those blue eyes. They're softer. Grey instead of that sharp blue. Pity, maybe? Heather scowls at the other side of him, not too pleased that he had asked me.

"I, uh," I stall, glancing around. No one else is turning this way to ask. I clear my dry throat and barely smile. "Sure," I give in, my voice weak. Heather lets out an obnoxious huff to his left before turning to look for someone else. A sheet is being passed around where people have already scratched out their names, letting the professor keep track of project partners. It comes to me, and I write down my name before handing the paper over to him. I don't even know his last name.

He writes it down with slightly messy handwriting. I almost want to laugh and poke fun at him for how sloppy it is, but I remain silent. Louis Townsend. I would have never guessed. I look away without a word. It does have a nice ring to it.

"Do you want to exchange numbers?" he suddenly asks.

"What?" my lashes flutter. My heartbeat quickens as my eyes lock back with those intriguing blue ones. "You know I'm with Josh," I start to protest, despite the flurry in my stomach.

"It'll just be for the project," he states with a raised eyebrow. I stall, hesitant to give him my number. I could just hear it now, Josh snapping at me for having his number in my phone. Holy hell, the amount of crap I received from him after having some guy's number for a group project in the past.

"Uh, I don't think I should," I whisper hesitantly. He has the slightest frown, and my hand covers the bruise on my arm. I'm too scared that I'll end up with another. He has a strange look as he gazes down at me. It's almost like he's peering into the windows of my soul, and I am flustered. "Okay," I change my answer with these nerves picking up. I grab my phone and hand it to him so he can put in his number. I make a mental note to change the name later on so that he doesn't suspect a thing.

Hours later and I am getting dropped off at the convention by Josh. Only about three blocks away, and he wanted to see it to believe it. I fix the cardigan over my black dress before bringing the purse over my shoulder. "Text me when you're out," he murmurs lamely, gazing at the glass doors as people enter the tall building. It almost looks like a hotel or rich flat building, but it's the right place with all these people dressed in business apparel. I begin to part ways, but he clears his throat.

"Sorry," I apologise before leaning over the console to kiss him quickly. He sighs heavily, and I can still sense his agitation. I slip out of the blue vehicle and shut the door. I take out my ticket and walk towards the door, where a man checks for tickets. In the reflection of the glass door, I can see that Josh is still waiting in the car and watching. I'm distracted by the man trying to take my ticket, and I make my way inside, away from him.

My eyes linger throughout the lobby. People are dressed nicely, scattered about, and chatting away. There's a man in a suit at the lifts, practically guarding them against outsiders. I make my way to the entryway of the convention itself. There's a stage with a light blue glow illuminating it. Tables clothed in white are scattered about, and servers are walking around with trays of drinks and hors d'oeuvres. I notice two people from one of my lectures in the distance, going to have a seat. I know quite a few are attending with the same kind of hope that I have.

"What are you doing here?" someone distracts me, stepping before me. My heart drops as my eyes meet those blue ones. Only now, he's in a white button-down shirt, covering up those tattoos. The same button-down he wore at the beach, only the sleeves were pushed up at the time. His eyes are narrow, almost harsh.

"Me? What are you doing here? Are you following me?" I defend instantly, glancing around. I almost fear that Josh is here and may witness us together. I'm paranoid, I know.

"What? No. I didn't have a choice but to be here," Louis retorts with his eyebrows furrowed together. I'm hesitant about what to do next. The safest thing would probably be to turn around and run. As much as I loved that night together, I am beyond worried about him being around. It's dangerous how easily my mind slips to that night with him. "I had to be here. As for you, I can't understand why you would even want to be here," he turns the tables.

I gaze up at him and let out the tiniest laugh. I don't bother confiding in him about my reasoning. I just move past him to a round table with three people. One older man with greying hair and two older women in dresses that show their age. "Excuse me, is anyone sitting here?" I ask softly.

"Be our guest," the woman in the old-fashioned, red dress gestures for me to sit. I thank her and take a seat. The seat beside me is pulled out, and I hold my breath. Louis takes a seat to my right, and I pull my cardigan tighter over my chest. I want him to sit somewhere else, but what is the good in that? It's not like many other people from uni are here, especially not Josh or my friends. Just a few stragglers from lectures who are sitting together elsewhere.

"Mr Townsend," a waiter with black curls hands him a glass of water with a slightly jittery hand. It's as if Louis' presence makes him nervous.

"Only my dad gets called that," Louis remarks miserably, rolling his eyes. I'm put off by his demeanour, not expecting his little attitude. That is not the same person that I met on the beach.

"I'm sorry," the young teen stammers out a little. "Uh, miss, would you like a drink? We have pop, wine, champagne, or water," he offers me with a nervous smile.

"How much is the wine?" I ask with a slight hint of a smile. Josh isn't here to tell me no, for once. I would love a little something to drink.

"It's free," he notes. Even better.

"Oh, could I have a white wine?" I plead with a small smile. He nods his head before moving on to ask the other three at this table. My eyes fall on the water before Louis, and I cross my right leg over my left. I keep my cardigan close to my body and decide not to make this night miserable. "Free drinks, and you choose water?" I ask quietly.

"I don't drink," he reminds me in an off tone, without looking at me.

"I know, but still. I didn't think that would apply to a simple glass of wine," I state honestly. He is still looking away, and I take the time to gaze at him. That white button-down has my skin scorching hot, remembering how tauntingly slow I had unbuttoned it. I was so mesmerised by his body underneath, and now I want to take it off of him again.

"Not even a glass of wine," he finally answers, eyes falling on me. I tear my eyes away and nod a little. I nibble on my bottom lip, not knowing what else to say or do. As crowded as it is here, it only makes it hotter. Outside was hot, despite the dark clouds looming above. It isn't much cooler inside.

With the dim lighting, I remove the cardigan from my body. It's dark enough that the bruise on my arm won't draw any unwanted attention. I drape it on the back of my chair and run my fingers through my hair. I turn my head a little to see his eyes lowered onto me, and my heart flutters in my chest. "What?" I ask in a tiny voice.

"I'm still trying to figure out why you're here," he remarks back, removing his gaze from me.

"Because I want to be here," I smile sweetly. He tries to study me, and the waiter returns with my glass. I thank him and happily take a sip of the sweet wine. It feels so lovely on my tongue and better tasting than any liquor from those parties. I set the glass down and clear my throat a little. Everyone else begins to hush suddenly, voices lowering to nothing.

"Hello, hi," a blonde woman in a short red dress is on stage. She smiles with her red-painted lips, and I hear Louis groan out of aggravation. He's stiff, mad even. "We are just about to get started. My fiancé and CEO of the company, Mark Townsend, will be up in a few short moments. Help yourself to some drinks and hors d'oeuvres."

"Townsend? Mark Townsend?" I ask, my eyes falling on Louis instead.

"My father," he answers in a grumble of a voice. His body is tense, and he takes a sip of water without looking my way. This negative aura radiates from him just by the mention of his father. I don't know how to respond with his walls coming high up. I grab my glass instead and take another sip of my drink. He doesn't say a word, and I give him his space.

By the end of the conference, I have the brochures I wanted. I get up with a small goodbye to Louis, putting the cardigan back on. The entire time, he looked entirely disinterested in it. I can't blame him, it was slightly dull, but it was an excuse away from everyone else for the night. An excuse away from Josh. It also is beneficial for my career path.

I take my phone out to tell Josh I'm on my way back. By now, the party had started, so I don't expect him to get back to me anytime soon, but I refused to get blamed for not texting him immediately. Different people groaning distracts me from my phone, and I look out to see a torrential downpour instead. It's dark out, nighttime already, with flashes of lightning flickering in the sky. Of course, I've got to walk back in this. If only my boyfriend would have picked me up after dropping me off, or hell, even let me drive. I let out a heavy sigh, not too thrilled by it whatsoever. Lucky for them, they have rides. I do not. I should have taken my car, but Josh didn't allow it. Clearly, he didn't trust that I was coming to this.

I shove my phone into my purse and brace myself for the rain. As I remove my heels, a slew of curses slips out under my breath. I refuse to slip and fall because I'll have them on. I make my way out, and I am instantly soaked. It's still so hot and groggy outside. This humid rain doesn't help at all. I become drenched in seconds, and I try to start to pick up my pace to get back to the dorm.

"Are you insane?" Louis exclaims, grabbing hold of my right arm. My heart skips from the suddenness, and I am pulled back into the building. The air conditioner feels cold against my wet skin, covering me in goosebumps. "You are not walking back in that storm, especially at night," he scoffs, just as wet himself. His hair is wet and clad to his forehead. That white shirt is soaked to the point that I can see his tattoos underneath.

"How do you know I wasn't just running to my car?" I retort with a raise of my eyebrows.

"Because any sane person would have their car keys out, ready to unlock the door to escape the rain. I'm not an idiot," he calls me out immediately. I can't fathom how observant he is. My eyebrows raise, and he takes my hip in his hand. My heart picks up his pace from such a simple touch as he guides me away. "Come on. You need to dry off, and I'll drive you back."

I don't protest, not having a problem with escaping the rain a little longer. I'll take on a free ride. He guides me towards the lifts where that guard still stands, throwing me off immediately. "Wait, Louis, I don't think we're supposed to go in there," I start to panic quietly. He doesn't care and hits the button. I smile nervously at the man in the suit, who gives the slightest nod to Louis. The doors open, and he ushers me in. He taps a button for the fifteenth floor, and I move away from his touch.

"What is this?" I ask, my walls starting to come up.

"Well, in order to get dried off and grab my car keys, I need to stop at my flat," he grumbles. His flat. He lives here. My throat dries instantly, and I wrap my arms tightly against myself. I look away with these nerves pricking at me—his flat. My mind is already beginning to explore dangerous territories, alone with him. My legs press tightly together as I straighten a little, not wanting him to notice any ridiculous reaction that may escape me. "You don't have to go in if you're uncomfortable. I can just grab my keys, and we can go," he adds.

"That's probably for the best," I whisper. He nods his head and clears his throat. My eyes linger on him as he moves his shirt sleeves up his arms, just as he did at that beach. My heart is pounding even heavier in my chest. My mind needs to stop slipping away from me.

We end up on his floor, and he leaves. I watch him take a key card out of his pocket instead of actual keys. Fancy, for being a flat, although I just learned that his father is some big-time CEO who makes tons of money. I've seen his father in the news, but I've never cared too much until tonight.

"If you want a change of clothes to dry off, you can come in. Unless you want to go back, soaking wet," Louis stalls at his door. 1504 is in silver on his door. "We can either dry off and wait out the storm or go while wet."

Every sane part of me is telling me to go with the latter. Go back to the dorm and put up with the storm, just in case Josh somehow leaves the party soon. I stammer a little, doubtful. I want to go in and see a little more about this breathtaking person before me. My phone buzzes in my bag, and I take it out instantly without answering.

A message from Josh that is incoherent appears on my phone. It doesn't make sense at all until Derek texts in the group chat and tells me that Josh is borderline about to pass out. Just as I had doubted everything, it's as if the universe is giving me a free pass to stay out longer tonight. The warmth is flourishing within me.

"We can wait out the storm," I whisper with a surge of energy coursing through me.