#character study!!!

the cameras catch sight of them far earlier than louis would have hoped, and he scowls at the paparazzi in hopes of deterring them. it doesn't work.

"louis, louis, who's that?"

"louis, is that your girlfriend?"

"louis, have you heard the rumors about you and harry splitting?"

his name is flying around so easily amid the flashing lights and the sudden onslaught of bodies, louis starts to resent it, resent the way the l curls his tongue and how the second syllable drags the photographers' faces into grotesque, distorted smiles. he hates his name, hates it hates it hates it hates it hates--

"louis." there's a feather-light touch to the crook of his elbow, and louis doesn't flinch, can't or else the sharks'll scent blood in the water, but he does look sharply at the girl standing next to him, blonde and tall and sharp amid the fuzziness of his fame, made blurry by the flashing lights.

her lips don't curl at all around his name; she says it softly, gently, brummie accent thick and pronounced and gentle. louis thinks that he wouldn't mind his name if it came out of her mouth.