How Cliche Can We Get? (Larry Stylinson Fanfic)

Chapter 2 (I'm too lame to make a better chapter tile... SOOOORRRYY)

Isolated. Trapped in solitude. That's all that I have felt since I left. This flat feels so desolate without Louis, like a barren and foreign land, waiting to be inhabited by him and his peculiar antics, and to no avail will he will ever show up, because that’s just the way management wants it. Management always prevails. Always. And I can’t help feeling almost as if we’re just a piece in their little game, their little game of human Monopoly; wanting nothing but fill their bank accounts. That’s all they care about. Boundaries? Ha! It’s funny because they have none. And never will.

I lie alone, or course, atop of the boreal and uncomfortable mattress that rests on the grey fading carpet. It lacks human warmth, all of mine had left me when I left Louis, all that I am now is an algid figure that with the absence of him, am nothing more than a mere body. Nothing.

I can hear the clock tick as time slowly and painfully elapses. I don’t even want to look at the clock, judging by the fact that there is no light peeking in through the curtains on the window, I can tell that morning has yet to come to my rescue. This is going to be a long night. Is it pathetic that I can’t fall asleep without Louis’ arms draped over me like a security blanket, the only thing offering me any warmth? Because I feel like it is. I feel like I am so dependent on him that I can’t even function without him with me. I wonder how he is taking it right now.

Just as I begin to fathom possibilities of how he’s holding up, all of which probably better than my state, my phone rings. “I love you, Hazza it’s Boo, answer your phone before I kill you” chimes throughout the room indicating me that no other than Louis is calling. The ring tone never fails to bring a smile on my face even in times like these. But that’s beside the point because within a seconds notice, all of my energy suddenly recoils throughout my being, causing me to sprint to the source of the noise.

The second I answer the phone I wine into the speaker of the devise not even noticing my voice is groggy from crying. Wait what?! I was crying? Oh my fucking god Harry, pull yourself together! “Louie I miss you sooo much, I hate this. I hate this so fucking much, I can’t do it. I want you right now, I need you. I want to come home! ”

“Same,” he replies sniffling away presumably a tear or something in that nature, judging by his muggy and desperate voice.

***

We had been on the phone for hours and the sun had yet to rise when he asked it.

“Do ever wonder if we could just run away? Fuck everything and just leave.”

“You don’t even know how many times,” I chuckled sorrowfully. Sure this may sound like a conversation shared amongst a couple, and god only knows how much I want that, how much I need that. But I just can’t have it. But the thing is, it’s almost as if we are in a relationship because that’s just how Louis’ and I’s relationship works, we’re just that comfortable with each other.Sometimes we push so far in our friendship, what with the lingering touches, intent gazes, and overall “not just friends” disposition that many sense, that it even fools me. But Louis always laughs it off, taking our deeper moments as some comical joke, but to me…its so much more. So yeah, reality hurts like a bitch.

“Let’s do it then.”

“Lou are you insane, more than usual that is? Do you know how much trouble we would be in? Not to mention the other lads. The band! Management would kill us,” I replied flabbergasted by his proposition.

“Let them kill us. At this point I don’t think I could be anymore dead.” And that’s the sentence that killed me. It beheaded me and drowned my corpse in a lustered bath of my emitted tears. I myself wasn’t the only thing that was destroyed by this, the damn of hidden emotions I had managed to rein suddenly collapsed under the weight of his words. I’ve killed him. The one person I have ever truly loved I have killed, and am too killing myself in the process.

Between ragged breaths I choke out uneven sobs, most definitely frightening Louis on the other end with my sudden breakdown. Even without verbal communication I can sense his state of panic. So to ease him I simply hang up, disregarding the use of some terse excuse for needing to go, and barricade myself in a pool of emotions. My eyes cloud over with an even thicker curtain of tears. Suddenly everything seems to suffocate me. I feel like I am chained to the bottom of the ocean and can’t get out. I’m drowning. Drowning in my emotions. Drowning in life. Drowning in love. Simply, drowning in Louis. I can’t take this.

I start gasping for air feeling at loss of it. I start clawing at my skin hoping I’ll be able to claw my way out. But nothing works. Suddenly the room starts spinning. I clutch the edge of the mattress in hope of steadying myself, but find myself in a heap on the ground.

After several minutes, I manage to pick myself up off from the floor and am now standing once again. I have to get out of here. I shuffled through my unpacked boxes in sought of Louis jumper, and slipped it over my head, basking in its enveloping comfort. Louis scent engulfs my nose; its distinct scent sends my senses in a frenzy. I love Louis scent, it smells like a mix of his cologne and just his delicious natural scent, plus the smell of his shampoo, and it drives me crazy with zeal. Wrapped up in Louis’ jacket, I simply gather my phone and leave this intolerable wasteland.

***

I amble through the cold and bleak London streets, the moonlight illuminating the tear tracks that cascade down my face. The brisk wind traipsed through my curls, strewing the spiraled locks, sending them all off in different directions.

I don’t know where I’m headed, but I know that no matter how cold this journey is, nothing is as cold as that flat. I refuse to call it mine, because it’s not. The only place I call mine is my home. And my home is wherever Louis is. So never, will I ever, ever call that flat mine.

Soon enough my distracted meander leads me somewhere I KNOW I shouldn’t be, but I guess my hearts my compass, and maybe, just maybe it lead me in the right direction. But before I could think any further a certain red nosed and wet eyed boy staring down at me catches my attention. But he also catches my heart.