7 | I Drink Tea, Darling

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"YOU'RE FIVE minutes early," I smiled, stepping down the stairs of the theater.

I had waited all day for this moment, mostly in anxiousness, so it felt like a weight was being lifted off my shoulders. Louis was wearing an adorable red cardigan tied around his shoulders, a white shirt, and black jeans.

I'd be insane not to admit he looked good.

"It's better than being five minutes late," he said with a smirk, "and that's no way to show up on the first date."

"Not a date," I smiled, "remember?"

"The only thing I remember is you suggesting this was a date."

Rolling my eyes playfully, I tilted my head towards the sidewalk in the hopes he'd tell me where we were going. He didn't. Instead, he just started to walk down the sidewalk in the opposite way of the train station.

As we walked, I glanced down at my dress, wondering what he thought of it. Caleb and Sadie said I looked cute, and that was sweet of them, but I hoped Louis thought so too. Even though this wasn't an official date, I wanted to impress him.

I think.

"You want me to say something about your dress," the boy grinned, breaking me out of my thoughts, "don't you?"

My eyes widened, and I blushed furiously. Had he been reading my mind?

"I-uhm," I stuttered, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You've been tugging at the hem of your dress this whole time, as if you were hoping to bring attention to it."

Dang it.

I was thinking about it, but I didn't realize I was actually doing something. I must have been doing it out of habit, and somehow Louis picked up on it.

"I'm sorry," I said, flustered, "I didn't mean to—"

"Do you want to know what I think about the dress?" he grinned, cutting me off.

I was starting to think he just wanted to answer the question more than I wanted attention to it. Interesting.

"Sure," I said, nodding my head.

"I think it looks very pretty on you."

I laughed softly, "why didn't you tell me that earlier, if you knew I wanted to say something?"

Louis ran a hand through his hair, obviously amused about something.

"Do you really want to know why?" He smiled.

"I would."

"It's because you look pretty every time we meet," he said, "so I wasn't all that surprised when you showed up looking pretty today."

Gah!

He always knew the right thing to say, and now I was blushing profusely. Not to mention, it was incredibly noticeable. Incredibly.

Before I could fathom up a response to him, he stopped walking and turned to look at me.

"We're here," he said, nodding towards the mint colored doorway to his right.

Tilting my head up, I squinted my eyes to get a better view of the place. It was a small clay building, the white paint reflecting off the afternoon sunlight, and a few well proud bushes dividing it from the sidewalk. There were four draped windows, all matching the door, and a wooden sign hanging from a thin metal pole. Sweet Leaves, it read.

"Don't you think this is a little ironic," I smiled, "you spill tea all over me, and the next thing you do is take me to a tea shop?"

"I think it's great character development."

"Is it now?"

"First I spilled the tea," he smirked, "and now I'll pour it for you."

And...he did it again.

I don't know how much more of his flirtatious comments I could take, because I would probably just melt into the floor and never come back. Also, Keith was still a thing. I had to keep my wits about me.

So that's why I found myself sitting at a small, circular table, the sunlight streaming in through the window, a tea cup in my hand, and a beautiful boy in front of me. He looked like an angel in the sunlight, and I'm putting that lightly.

"How's the tea?" he asked, setting his china cup onto the tiny plate.

I chuckled, "hot."

"Good."

"Why is that good?"

"Because the cooler your tea is," he shrugged, "the less time I get to spend sitting here with you."

He was alluding to the idea that I was only going to drink one cup of tea, and boy, was he wrong. I'd drink as much tea as I could, because like him, I didn't want to leave the tea shop.

"Are you always this flirtatious?" I asked, placing my cup down in interest.

Louis cocked a brow, "who said I was being flirtatious."

"You."

"I only flirt with people worth flirting with," he grinned, "but if it bothers you, I'll stop."

"No..." I mumbled, staring into my cup, "I think it's rather nice, actually."

"Really?"

"It's not like I'm always running into cute boys everywhere I go," I shrugged, "and it's not like they pay much attention to me when I do."

I probably shouldn't have said that, but I did. It just slipped out of my mouth like a seal on a water slide. Have seals gone on waterslides? Never mind that synonym, I'm not good when it comes to describing my life.

"So you think I'm cute?" Louis pressed, batting his eyelashes.

"I said you can be flirtatious, not cocky," I laughed, "but yes...you're not too bad-looking."

"You're not too bad-looking yourself."

"Thank you, Mr. Partridge," I laughed.

Before he could respond, his phone started to buzz against the table cloth, a metallic text-tone echoing out into the air. He glanced at it, before swiping the message off the screen.

"Sorry," he said, shoving the phone into his pocket, "it's just Millie."

"Millie?"

"Yeah, Millie."

"That name is familiar," I said, tapping my finger against my chin in confusion, "where have I heard it before?"

"Stranger Things, probably?"

"Oh yeah!" I exclaimed nodding my head, "she plays Eleven. Wouldn't it be funny if that was her?"

Louis tilted his head, "if she was who?'

"The person who texted you."

"Oh, yeah," he said, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly, "funny."

I'm not one to read too far into things, but the way he phrased that response was quite strange. It was like he was hinting a little sarcasm. Maybe he just didn't like Millie Bobby Brown? That was impossible, she seemed like a sweet person and Louis didn't know her to hate her.

"I've been thinking," he said, changing the subject, "have you been to Buckingham Palace yet?"

I shook my head, "not yet."

"Would you like to go tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow?"

"Yeah."

"That would be fun," I smiled, "thank you."

Picking up my tea cup again, I brought it to my lips and took another sip of the tea. It was starting to cool, which would have worried me, but now that Louis was proposing another meeting, It was fine.

"Good," he smiled, winking, "I'll pick you up at four."

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AHHHHHHHHHHHH
Louis's going to play Peter Pan omg

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