Turquoise (L.S)

XXIV

48k?! Y'all are insane and I love you!

Ummmm I'm sorry for this chapter lol :)

Daylight had not touched his ghostly, pale, white skin in days: curtains used as protective barriers from the evils of the outside world. The sun continued to try and push her way through the small cracks in the cheaply-made, polyester fabric, covering the glass windows. Her rays were relentless and needy, but Louis Tomlinson ignored her. He was a hermit, a shut-in who was unable to let anyone in. He yearned to be a caterpillar, wishing he could cocoon himself in a thick shell until the storm had passed. Not a single soul had heard from the ex contestant since the article dropped. Lottie continuously called, her name constantly appearing on Louis's cracked android screen, but Louis let the ringing play out until the battery eventually ran out of charge. He was in no mood to be lectured.

Completely isolated and surrounded by a sea of predatory vultures, Louis Tomlinson was vulnerable and near breaking point.

His mind was a jumbled mess, still trying to process what had happened. All he could think of was Harry Edward Styles. Their last conversation ran through his mind like clockwork, continuing to tear at his bleeding and bruising heart that was barely beating.

Guilt consumed every cell in his body and hurt was a permanent feature in his bloodstream. He wondered how Harry was feeling, terrified to charge his phone in case the rockstar had sent him another text message.

I hate you. You have no idea what you've done

I. Hate. You.

The words had seeded and blossomed in Louis's brain, spreading far and wide: their thick, mangled branches ripping and shredding at the delicate nerve pathways until Louis was an emotional and uncontrollable mess.

As Louis sat, wallowing in his depressive state, he heard a loud banging at the door and froze.

Not again.

Why couldn't the paparazzi leave him alone? He curled up into a foetus position and closed his eyes, yearning for the loud knocking to cease. Eventually, the sound stopped and he released a sigh of relief, and began to uncurl slowly. That was when he heard it.

Someone had unpicked the lock and opened the door.

Unsure on what to do, Louis froze. His hands were clammy and his pulse was racing at a hypersonic speed.

Fuck.

His nerves overwhelmed him as he prepared for the flashing camera in his face, capturing what a horrible coward he was.

"Louis?" A familiar voice called out to the darkness. The small man shot up, unable to believe what he was hearing. He squinted in the dark, hoping to get a better view.

"Niall?" He called out tentatively to the thick Irish accent. He heard some shuffling and the room was suddenly illuminated in an artificial light. The blonde man's hand hovered over the switch and a look of soft sympathy was written on his face.

"Hey," He muttered, walking slowly towards Louis, with a small albeit comforting smile on his face.

"What are you doing here? How did you even get in? The street is covered in reporters," Confusion ripped through any relief Louis had seeing his ex friend there. According to the text he had received from his sister before letting his phone die, the whole street had been swarmed by reporters and she had not even been able to reach his front door.

"Louis, there's no one outside," Niall answered in a slightly concerned tone. His head was tilted to the side and he seemed concerned by the Doncaster lad's paranoid state.