Louis Partridge

This was a marriage of convenience. You two weren’t in love, not even in the slightest. Louis needed someone to take care of him, and you needed his god damn money. Which leads you to where you are now. Cooking in your shared apartment, in London making his favorite meal for him to come home to. Butterflies in your stomach as you think of sharing the bed with him. The sound of the door has your heartrate quickening. “I’m home.”