Claire's POV
Louis heaves out a deep sigh and plops softly onto the edge of my bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. "So… about everything."
"Yeah," I say, crossing my arms tightly over my chest. I don't bother sitting. This feels too serious for casual comfort. "We do need to talk. You have a plan, right?"
He looks up at me, surprise flickering across his face like he hadn't expected the question. A tired huff escapes him. "A plan… This whole thing got sprung on me just as hard as it did on you. No, Claire, I don't have a plan…"
I practically glare at him, my jaw tightening. "…Yet," he added. He meets my gaze steadily, but there's a flicker of something raw in his eyes—hurt, maybe. My heart stutters for a second, but I push the feeling down.
