Second Chances

Chapter 5

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Songs of Inspiration:

Things We Lost In The Fire - Bastille

Afire Love - Ed Sheeran

Photograph - Ed Sheeran

Never Say Never - the Fray

I wake up with a jolt at the sound of a crash to the ground, followed by an f bomb slipped from Louis' lips. 

"Sorry man, did I wake you?" Louis asks, standing above the pieces of glass.

"Yeah, I guess. It's alright," I tell him, rubbing my eyes. I hadn't even realized I fell asleep. Last I knew, Louis was the one asleep.

"Sorry about the mug," Louis mumbles, looking down at the blue shards scattered about.

"It's okay, it was just a mug," I assure him. I glance over to my right where the pink mug is, the one I actually care about. It's all in one piece, so I let out a sigh of relief.

I stand up too fast, causing everything to fade to black for a moment but I finally regain vision and grab a broom to sweep up the mess.

Louis gets a bit heated that I am the one cleaning up his mistake, but I honestly don't mind. Cleaning isn't such a terrible thing, it takes my mind away from everything for a short period of time.

Once I finish, I join Louis in the kitchen as I contemplate cooking, or eating out.

"What time is it?" I ask him, not even knowing what meal I would be eating.

"Around 5," he answers.

"Do you want to go to dinner?" I turn to ask him, and I'm a bit taken back when his reaction is not one I expected.

"I don't know, we could just order pizza or something. No need to leave," he says, his voice uneasy as he refuses to look me in the eye.

"Do you now want to be seen with me or something?" I ask, confused. What's the big deal?

"No, of course not! It's just a ton of work to get ready and then drive and pick somewhere to eat when we can easily just use the phone," he says.

"Bull shit Louis," I snap at him, not buying his ridiculous excuses.

He twiddles with his fingers, looking around the room while I study his motions.

"What is it?" I demand him for an answer, my voice raising.

"Who is she?" he asks, his voice soft.

"Who's who? Morgan? Are you fucking with me again?" 

"No, the other girl. With the black hair," he says, and my stomach drops even lower than my open jaw.

"How do you know..." I can't even tie the ends of my sentence as my mind races a million miles per second, trailing off into the midst of the now scorching room. 

"It's all over the media," he tells me, his eyes drooping.

My head starts to feel lighter as if I'm going to float, or even fall. I recall the night with the mysterious girl, but I don't think I did or said anything that could've been recorded or taken a picture of that would have made it seem like we are a couple.

We actually didn't talk for long, and it was dark, and the only thing I did was try and save her by...

My thoughts freeze and I'm taken back to that night, metal gun in my steady hands as I am as stiff as lead while pointing it at the eerie man. I was ready to kill him, I was ready to defend the girl. I didn't want to kill him, but I might have if the situation played out differently.