Work Text:
Emma pressed the down button for the lift of her office building forlornly. She had just finished up one of the last sessions of her academy training, and she was afraid she would fail. She pulled out a cigarette out of her pack with anxiety, thumbing the bottom of it to burst the menthol.
She walked out onto the street, conscious to get far enough away to make it to her office’s ‘designated smoking area’. Finally, when she entered King George Square, she breathed a sigh of relief. She sat down on one of the benches, lit her cigarette, and inhaled gratefully. A wave of calm flowed through her as she closed her eyes for a brief second.
‘Excuse me!’ Said a jarring, horribly familiar voice. Emma froze, because obviously all the new training was making her go crazy. It wasn’t him. It was just some other stupid pom. They were common in Brisbane, the backpackers. She opened her eyes.
Louis Tomlinson stood before her. Louis fucking Tomlinson. She couldn’t even process any other thoughts before he spoke again.
‘Um, sorry love, can I pinch your lighter? Sorry, just stepped out of me hotel room and completely forgot.’
Emma was frozen. She was completely still, her own cigarette forgotten, as she stared at the absolute angelic face in front of her, his eyes a little bit pleading, and somehow, somehow, she managed to unfreeze her fingers to reach into the pocket of her jacket to grasp her lighter. She thrust it out to him, still not able to say anything. He took it from her fingers and the skin beneath her fingers felt hot. It wasn’t like a lover touching her hand, no. It was something else, something that seemed to change her very being, her place in the world. It was him. It was Louis.
‘Fanks love,’ he said, bringing his now lit cigarette to his lips and inhaling deeply. ‘Shit, sorry!’ he said, looking towards her with a frown on his face. ‘Your own one’s gone out love, I’ll light it for ya.’
It was crazy, this couldn’t be happening. But it was. Louis Tomlinson looked her dead in the eyes, bent down to her eye level, and lit her cigarette. She inhaled. She tried to compose her thoughts as she exhaled.
‘Only the Brave, Habit, they’re my favourites. I’m coming tonight but I couldn’t line up because I’m training for a new job. Thank you for everything.’ There. That was it. She’d said what she’d said.
She still couldn’t believe it. Louis actually, properly, smiled at her as he flicked his ash onto the floor of King George Square. ‘I’m dead glad love. I’m so glad you’re coming, and that you love the songs. It’s gonna be a sick show, I hope!’
No one believed Emma when she said she smoked a cigarette with Louis Tomlinson. But when he came back to Australia in 2024, she camped out for barricade. She held up the same pink lighter from two years ago and his eyes widened, and met hers. The same smile from that day returned, and it lit up his face.