#3: Cloe

You're going to hate me for this but meh, enjoy x

I groaned as I turned on my back, immediately placing my hands over my face as I saw the sunlight through my eyelids. I was pretty sure I was lying next to an opened window, too; and the last thing I needed was hearing the traffic outside, and the sun making me go blind with my eyes closed.

"You too?" I heard a voice next to me, a voice I knew all too well. But it didn't sound like other times; other times this voice would be loud, and cheery, and pretty much drowning in happiness. Not drowning in slurs.

"Mhm," I mumbled, turning on my other side and slowly opening my eyes to look at Louis; he had his hands over his face, just like I had a minute ago, and overall looked like he'd been run over by a truck several times.

"What did we even do last night?" I asked quietly. Since school has finished a few weeks ago, we decided to take a quick trip to the United States; Las Vegas that is. No less, no more.

Now though, with my head feeling like a thousand pounds and my stomach like I'd eaten a dinosaur, I was beginning to feel that maybe we should have just stayed in our hotel room and watched a movie or something.

"I've no idea," Louis muttered as he rolled over to the edge of the bed, needing a good few seconds to pull himself up in a sitting position. He ran his hand through his hair a few times – a few lazy times – before getting up. Or at least trying to get up.

"Fucking hell, I'm never mixing Red Bull and sangria ever again," He said through a long sigh, and kind of just slid onto the floor. He crawled a couple of feet away from the bed, until he was right next to a wall, and then leaned on it, closing his eyes and throwing his head back until it was leaned against the wall too. My fiancé, ladies and gentlemen.

"What the fuck are you doing?" I asked, my words muffled by the bed sheet, as I watched him sit there under a window like a homeless person. I mean, he had a chair right next to him.

"I'm too tired to get up," He almost whined, "Or too hungover. Both work."

I let my head fall on the mattress, it was just too heavy too keep in the air. I wonder if I'd actually swallowed a dinosaur and it went to my head instead of my stomach.

"This place is a mess," Louis said a few minutes later, now sounding more like himself. "You sure we didn't like, throw a party here or..?"

"No," I replied, "I remember you almost got in a fight with that body guard because he thought you had a fake ID."

A few seconds after what I'd said, we both started laughing like a pair of eighty year olds – at least that's how we sounded. I still reckon he should have taken that as a compliment; the guy was basically telling him he looked younger than 21. And he was 24. I'd literally throw a party if someone mistook me for a 21 year old solely for that reason.

"In my defense, he was fucking annoying," Louis mumbled, once again running a hand through his hair in order to tame it. Although he ended up getting it even messier. "Everyone's asking me when I'm turning thirty, and then this dick says I have a fake ID." He shook his hair, "Americans."

"You love it here, shut up," I mumbled back, pulling myself up in a sitting position. "I wish you looked as happy with me as you did on the Stratosphere Tower."

"I'm always happy with you, all you do is complain," He said as he rubbed his eye. Usually I would have had a comeback or something, but now I couldn't help but smile at that. Life's been a little more peaceful since I'd started ignoring his teasing; some of it, anyway.

"Am I the one complaining right now?" I narrowed my eyes at him.

Louis sighed, gripping the chair next to him to pull himself up. "Alright, fair enough. Now shut up."

"Should I make you a sandwich while I'm at it?"

"That'd be nice, actually, yeah."

"Too bad," I said, raising my voice so he'd hear me from the kitchen. "Make it yourself."

He walked out of the kitchen, holding two glasses of water, a small smile on his face as he shook his head. "You're an asshole."

"Thanks, I'm having sex with one too," I replied in a casual tone, extending my hand to take the glass that I knew was meant for me. Louis sat down on the bed next to me and for a minute or so, we just sat and drank water. It's what we'd always do when we're hungover; actually, it's mostly what he did, since I never really got drunk at all.

I looked across the room, and the floor caught my eyes. "This place really is a mess," I said in a bit of a sad tone when I properly scanned that part of the room. "What even is all of that?"

When Louis said nothing, I looked at him; he had a skeptical look on his face. "You're just gonna keep talking until I get up and clean the floor, aren't you?" He asked and, boy, did he know me well.

"Remember your promise when we got off the plane," I grinned at him, "'I'm so happy I'm even gonna clean our room if we ever trash it'!" I mocked his voice.

"And people say only drunk people talk shit," He mumbled as he actually started getting off the bed. Of course I didn't want him to literally clean the room; I didn't even like when anyone except me cleaned anything. I had my own system of cleaning and anything that didn't match that system was unacceptable.

But I was just feeling too numb and he just looked adorable, sitting on the floor with a frown on his face, going through the papers and magazines and whatnot that was on the floor. Yeah, I thought, I could make an exception and not clean this time.

"Jesus Christ, I don't even know where this all came from," He muttered but it was loud enough for me to hear. "Look at this fuckery. You have an Elle magazine, Food And Wine, these brochure things we got from around the city, some video cassette movie, and..."

He trailed off as he flipped a piece of paper several times, his frown getting harder as he did. Then he blinked a couple times, "And we got married."

I blinked too, "What?" I literally couldn't remember going to a church in the past two days. Or a chapel. Or anywhere where I could legally get married.

"Yeah, and..." He gulped as he paused, "I... I took your last name."

Well now he was just being ridiculous. "What?" I repeated, this time through a laugh. That was just too absurd, even for him. For us.

Louis didn't say anything, instead just kept staring at the piece of paper. I was becoming a little anxious; if he didn't happen to be joking, that would mean I didn't remember my own wedding – and not to mention the fact that I wasn't the one that took their spouse's last name.

The thought of that made me laugh again. "Come on, Louis, you can't be-" But I was cut off when he abruptly stood up, the cassette in his hand as he walked over to the TV. I was again a little confused for a few moments, when I realized; that cassette-

"Oh my God!" He almost yelled, his hands on the top of his head as he stood up, and walked away, revealing the TV screen to me. And I could definitely see why he'd just ran off.

"Oh my God," I repeated in a much quieter tone, as I watched us, giggling as we stared at each other, and a minister standing before us.

"My surname is too long," Louis slurred, interrupting the priest halfway through his speech. "I literally get a decade older every time I have to spell it out."

"Oh. My. God," I said again, bringing the duvet to my face; I don't know whether I did it out of embarrassment, or because I couldn't stop laughing.

"Are you sure?" I heard the minister say when I was done laughing at my own self – he was looking at Louis and, yeah, that would've been the perfect time for him to say no.

"Sure," He hiccuped, and I slowly closed my eyes. He actually took my last name. "I just cut down on five letters. Or, four letters? How do you spell Cloe again?"

"Oh my God," I whispered for the third time, just when the actual Louis walked out of the bathroom.

"Is it over yet?" He asked in a whiney tone, his hands over his eyes as he leaned his body against the wall. I bit my lip and, when I was sure I wouldn't burst into another laughing fit, I took the remote and turned the TV off. That was too much for one day.

"Come here," I patted the seat next to me and he walked over, but without taking his hands off his face. I could tell that he was peeking because, how else could he had sit down without falling over.

"Lou?" I called after a minute of silence, during which he just kept holding his face. "Babe, it's not that big of a-"

"Louis Cloe," He said, and I had to lower my head down and bite the inside of my cheek so I wouldn't start cackling again. "Louis Cloe. My name is Louis Cloe."

"Well," I began, but without knowing what I really want to say. "It has a nice ring to it."

"We're packing right now," He said quickly, shaking his head. "I need to change my name before someone finds out about this joke."

"Who's gonna find out?" I asked, wanting to calm him down about the whole thing, as well as not let him cut our trip short. "If we don't tell anyone, no one's gonna find out."

Louis blinked a few times, staring straight ahead of himself as if he was deep in thought. "Lorena?" He finally said.

"Hm?"

"My name is Louis Cloe."

I snorted as he repeated that, "Okay, but you'll have to go to Doncaster to change it."

"I'd have to go to Doncaster anyway."

"Exactly," I said, placing my hand on his thigh, "Then let's just stay here. Nothing's gonna be different in five days."

He sighed and leaned his head against the headboard, looking like he was thinking about something again. "This is... so fucked up."

I couldn't help but roll my eyes at that, "Jesus, so you took my last name, it's not the end of the-"

"I don't mean that," He cut me off, a small sigh leaving his lips after I'd stopped talking. "I mean... I wasn't planning for things to be like this."

"Like what?" I frowned just the slightest.

"You know..." He tilted his head from side to side several times, "Like this. If everything had gone the way I'd planned it, we wouldn't be even engaged now."

My frown became a little harder after that. "You saying you're sorry that you... that we're married?" I gulped as I said that; it was still unreal to think that it was real. And I felt like it would continue to be like that for a long while.

"No, not that. I don't mind that. But think about it. I proposed to you over the TV on the phone, and we got married shit-faced and I took your last name. And-"

"And how many people can say something like that happened to them?" I asked with a small smirk, successful at getting him to stop complaining. "Louis, I love how everything turned out. Well, except for your last name thing." I bit my lip, "But I wouldn't want to change anything else. If we'd planned everything out perfectly and did it the same way, that wouldn't be us."

I brought my hand to his cheek to turn his face toward me, "This, is us. We suck at planning. We're a mess. We don't know what the fuck we're doing most of the time, and we're also geniuses, because everything we do always has a good outcome."

After my little speech – that even I was surprised with – Louis stared at me for a few seconds, before narrowing his eyes at me. "I hate you for always knowing what to say."

I shrugged casually, "You should, I spent four years in university learning pretty words."

He cracked a grin; it was about damn time, too. "Oh, Christ," He sighed, but the smile was still on his face. "I can't even take you on a honeymoon."

I pressed my lips together; it was true, we'd been saving up money for this trip for months, we were pretty much broke now. But we didn't really care either, we could afford everything that we needed and we weren't planning to get married anytime soon anyway.

And then this happened.

"I don't need a honeymoon, Lou," I said quietly, "I don't want one. But an actual wedding would be nice."

He snorted, and looked at my grinning face. "Well, I can promise you that." Then he raised his eyebrows, "But not anytime soon."

"I don't mind," I grinned wider.

"Alright," He sighed, and picked up the piece of paper from the floor. I don't remember ever having to put so much effort into not laughing as I did when I read the words Louis Cloe on it. Wow, he really did take my last name and wow, we really were married.

"We don't need to terminate it so we'd change our names, right?" Louis asked, looking at the sheet as if his death date was written on it.

"No, you just need your spouse's consent..." Then I frowned at him, "What do you mean, we? Why'd I change my name?"

"Excuse you, darling, but as soon as we get this shit done, you won't be going by Lorena Cloe anymore," He told me, and even though he'd started with his teasing again I had to smile at that; it was still a perfect thing to say.

"I don't mind that either," I said through a light laugh, and imagined myself being a Tomlinson. I'd have to change my signature, that's for sure.

Louis sighed, in defeat; I think he was finally beginning to realize that he couldn't do anything about any of this for the next few days. "Alright, well," He began, as he placed the piece of paper on the nightstand. "Aren't you going to take your wife out to lunch?"

I glared at him, "Yeah, but let's get out of bed first, Mrs. Cloe."

*******

Oh, and before I forget, I wanna say something. I'm sure everyone who's read DC will know what it's about. Here we go:

WALLS WALLS WALLS WAL LS WSLLS WALLLS WALLA W ALLS WAKKS WA LLS Wlls walls WallS waLLs wAlls walls walls fuCKING WALLS. WALLS.