Dirty Miss West

As we drove to my apartment, a wave of panic washed over me. My place was an absolute disaster zone. I had completely forgotten about the state of my apartment after a long week, and now, with Louis about to see it, I was mortified.

Empty ice cream containers were strewn about like confetti, and half-eaten chips lay scattered across the couch like they'd been part of a snack explosion. The coffee table was littered with crumpled snack wrappers, and a stray sock had somehow found its way onto the TV stand. I could only imagine what Louis was thinking as he glanced over at me with a curious expression.

"Oh God, this is going to be so embarrassing!" I muttered under my breath, mentally preparing for the chaos that awaited us. "Don't judge me, guys. I'm just a girl who loves junk food! This is going to be so embarrassing!"

As we pulled up to the building, I tried to put on a brave face, but the thought of Louis walking into that mess made me want to sink into the seat. "This is it," I thought, cringing inwardly. "Time to face the music and hope he doesn't judge me too harshly for my less-than-stellar housekeeping skills."

As we approached my apartment, I couldn't help but fidget nervously. "I'm really sorry, sir," I began, my voice tinged with panic. "But please don't judge me when you see my apartment."

Louis shot me a curious glance. "Why, what's wrong with it?"

I swallowed hard, trying to contain my embarrassment. "It's a total mess! There are empty ice cream cones, chip crumbs everywhere—basically, it looks like a tornado hit a junk food factory."

Louis's eyes widened in amusement as he stifled a laugh. "Oh, come on. It can't be that bad."

I shot him a pleading look. "No, seriously, it's bad. I've got a mountain of laundry that's been growing for weeks and… well, don't judge me!"

Louis's laughter bubbled over, and he shook his head, tucking his hands in his pockets. "You don't have to worry. I know you're a bit of a messy lady."

"I'm not messy!" I cried out, feeling my face flush with mortification. "It's just… well, you know, sometimes life gets in the way of cleaning!"

Louis chuckled, his amusement evident. "I'm sure it's not as bad as you think. Everyone's place gets a little messy now and then."

With every step toward my apartment, I felt like I was walking toward an impending disaster. I fumbled with the keys, trying to unlock the door as quickly as possible. The moment it swung open, I braced myself for his reaction.

"Here we go", I said, trying to sound nonchalant, but I was dying with humiliation inside. 

"Prepare yourself for the mess of the century" 

Inside, it looked like a junk food apocalypse. Empty ice cream containers were strewn across the floor, chip bags lay deflated like deflated balloons, and a pile of laundry threatened to topple over at any moment.

"Oh my God," Louis said, his eyes widening as he took in the scene. "You weren't kidding!"

"I warned you!" I said, my voice a mix of mortification and embarrassment. "This is my reality! Don't judge me!"

Louis burst into laughter, shaking his head as he surveyed the chaos. "I've seen worse. This is like an art installation of chaos and snacks!"

I laughed nervously, hoping he could see the humor in the situation. "It's a disaster zone, I know. But at least it's honest."

Louis grinned, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Honest? More like a snack lover's dream come true. Don't worry, Claire. It's not that bad. Just don't ask me to help with cleaning!"

We both laughed, and for a moment, the tension eased. At least he was taking it in stride—and maybe, just maybe, my mess wasn't as catastrophic as I'd feared.

Louis glanced around my apartment, his eyes widening with a mix of shock and amusement. He took in the scene: empty ice cream containers strewn across the floor, potato chip crumbs embedded in the couch cushions, and an unmade bed that looked like a tornado had hit it.

"Hmmm, Miss West," he began, trying to suppress a chuckle, "your room is actually smaller than my basement."

My heart felt like it had been stomped on by an elephant. I stood there, frozen in place, mortified beyond belief. "Ouch!" I thought, feeling my self-esteem shatter like glass. "Could this get any worse?"

Louis's eyes danced with a playful glint. "I'm just kidding!" he said, his laughter bubbling up. "It's cozy—definitely more lived-in than my basement."

I tried to laugh along, though it felt like a forced, awkward sound. "Thanks for the consolation," I managed, feeling my cheeks burn with embarrassment. "I promise it's not always this bad. I just haven't had time to clean."

He looked around with a sympathetic grin, tucking his hands into his pockets. "Don't worry about it. It's clear you have other priorities. Besides, it adds character."

"Character?" I echoed, glancing around at the mess. "Well, I guess I'll take that as a compliment."

Louis's grin widened. "Trust me, this is nothing compared to some of the places I've seen. You're doing just fine."

I sighed in relief, the tension easing slightly as I saw he was genuinely trying to lighten the mood. Even though my pride was still a bit bruised, his good-natured teasing made me feel a little less mortified. At least he wasn't making me feel worse about the disaster zone that was my apartment.

I told Louis to make himself comfortable as I scrambled to straighten up my chaotic apartment. "Just, um, make yourself at home," I said, trying to sound casual despite the mess. "I'll be quick."

I darted around the room, picking up stray ice cream containers and tossing them into a trash bag, sweeping crumbs off the couch with a hasty sweep of my hand. The sight of the laundry basket overflowing with clothes made me wince, but I shoved it out of sight with an apologetic glance.

I dashed to my room for a quick shower, my heart racing as I tried to ignore the mess and the lingering embarrassment. With a swift motion, I grabbed a set of clothes from the closet and hurried into the bathroom. 

Once inside, I unhooked my bra and let it drop to the floor, the memory of Louis's hands on me still fresh in my mind. I closed my eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath as I recalled the way his touch had felt—gentle yet electrifying. "Oh God," I whispered to myself, "what a mess I've gotten myself into." 

I shook my head, trying to clear the lingering heat from my cheeks. "Why did I have to let him touch me like that?" I muttered, frowning as I turned the water on full blast, hoping the hot shower would wash away both the physical and emotional traces of last night.

As the steam enveloped me, I focused on the soothing sensation of the water, letting it help me.

I was in the middle of washing my legs when the soap suddenly slipped from my soapy grip and went skidding across the shower floor. "Oh, great," I muttered, bending down to pick it up. Of course, in true Claire fashion, I managed to lose my balance and, with a dramatic flail of my arms, went crashing down with a resounding thud that echoed through the tiny bathroom.

"Ouch!" I yelped, my voice bouncing off the tiles. I lay there for a second, sprawled out like a starfish, staring up at the ceiling. "Well, this is just perfect," I said, laughing at my own clumsiness. "Nothing like a full-body crash test to start the day."

As I gingerly rolled over, I thought about how this was the most ungraceful shower experience ever. I scrambled to my feet, my cheeks burning red with embarrassment. I grabbed the soap, muttering, "You know, Claire, you're the epitome of elegance." I then proceeded to finish washing, all the while hoping that Louis hadn't heard my little mishap.

But I was wrong. I was just finishing up my shower, the steam still swirling around me, when I heard the bathroom door creak open. "Claire, are you okay? I heard a sound," Louis called out, his voice filled with concern.

My heart nearly leaped out of my chest. I let out a shriek, grabbing a towel to cover as much of my body as I could. "I'm fine, sir! Get out of my room, now!" I yelled, my voice a high-pitched mix of panic and embarrassment.

Louis didn't move. He stood there, frozen, his eyes moving over my body with a mixture of surprise and raw, unabashed desire. His gaze was so intense, I could almost feel it like a physical touch. And then—just when I thought things couldn't get any worse—he licked his lips. Yes, he actually licked his lips, as if he were trying to savor the sight before him.

"Louis! Get your eyes off my body!" I shouted, desperately trying to shield myself with a towel. My face was a deep shade of crimson, and I felt a rush of heat that had nothing to do with the steam

from the shower. The absurdity of the situation was so overwhelming that I almost wanted to laugh.