𝕞𝕚𝕣𝕣𝕠𝕣𝕤 ┉✧ L.T.

/ chapter seventeen /

♫

Two Feet - Love is a Bitch

Gregory Alan Isakov - Words

------------------ BUDAPEST, HUNGARY -----------------

25th of October

Louis took a sip out of the little bottle that looked just like mine. "Cheers, Rosie."

"Cheers," I smiled before taking a sip; a blue wine. One of those I'd always see at the wine store but never thought of trying. And, to my surprise, it tasted interestingly juicy, like blueberry juice mixed with alcohol. Even if I didn't really like wine anyway.

"How's it?"

"Mysterious," I whispered. He smiled. "I've never tried it, it's so weird to be trying it here, now."

"Is it not fancy enough in here?" Louis replied quietly; staring at his bedroom window, at the raindrops that were falling down. Like they were racing each other, on which would make it down first.

I peeked over him; how his glassy blue eyes were staring at me, probably wondering what was going on inside my head. And as I lied next to him, clothes off, under the blanket, with his arm wrapped around me, I was wondering the same; how he was a combination of all the things that made me happy, yet he somehow seemed so distant that I couldn't really reach him – or understand what he was thinking.

I chuckled. "How did you decide to go and get wine out of the blue?"

"It's blue. Exactly. And I told you, I'm an impulsive Capricorn," he commented, smiling as he took another sip.

"You're a lying Capricorn, too."

"People sometimes just go out for walks," he rolled his eyes in irony.

"Not us. Not without security, not without a reason."

He took another sip, then lifted his finger in the air. "Wrong."

"Well, it's raining and freezing, you go out just for blue wine-"

"You still don't believe me, do you?" He interrupted me, his body shifting slightly so he could look at me – but with his arm still wrapped around me. Which felt so much like home; I hadn't felt so at home in a while.

"Lou," I stuttered; my fingers moving over his toned chest, that moved slowly up and down with each breath.

He sighed. The street lights outlined his features as he stared outside. He didn't reply; he only tucked me closer to him, his arm tightening around me. And I laid on his chest; to hear his heart beating serenely, over the muffled sound of the raindrops against the window.

However, a great while later, I heard him chuckle. "You know what, Rose?"

From the look on his face, I could tell he was suddenly not feeling as relaxed as before, even if he was trying to seem like he really was calm; his eyebrows were lowered, tense. His eyes were unemotionally locked into mine.

"I can't understand what makes me so fond of you. Whether it's the fact that you're so damn cute with your pink hair and all, or the fact that I feel like I can actually talk to you."

Relieved, I smiled.

"You're the only one here I can trust, and..."

"And?" I repeated; trying to sound relaxed while my heart was skipping beat after beat, each breath I took filled with anticipation.

"And you're the only person who has ever trusted me this much."

I smiled, suddenly at a loss for words.

The only one Louis can trust. The only one who has ever trusted him this much.

For once, I knew I could trust someone, I knew that someone in the world trusted me. Even with everything going on inside my head, I knew I had something to hold on to, something important.

"And?" I tilted my head.

I could never imagine where that conversation would lead, though.

"And I don't know what makes me want to protect you from the truth."

"What truth?"

At first, Louis didn't reply; he only took a deep breath and a long sip of his wine. And I imagined it would be something about the ecstasy pills he mentioned the other day – he had never explained what he meant with that text. I let him continue, my hand resting on his chest as it was moving up and down, slowly and peacefully.

"The truth that the world is an unhostile place. Maybe I was the one to blame about this, anyway." His eyes were stuck on the window, like he was trying to think; to reflect. Or to avoid my gaze. "Maybe I should have gone inside the bus again. There are different possibilities, so many fucking possibilities."

He chuckled, flipping the strands of hair that were falling messy on his forehead. "I don't know if I'll ever be able to accept it, but thinking about all those possibilities makes me feel less guilty. Almost peaceful... almost happy."

"Are you happy, though?"

His eyes widened; in the silence of the room inside the bus, he stopped breathing for a second or two. Like the question caught him off guard, he slightly lowered his gaze, with his eyebrows furrowed, suddenly so stressed that he didn't even dare to look at me.

"Sorry, fuck," I stuttered.

Why the hell would I ask him something like that?

"I'm sorry, I always lose it and ask people the questions I need to ask myself-"

However, he interrupted me.

"It's fine, you have to know," he shook his head. His voice sounded harsher than usual; each word was coming out quick but quiet, like he was scared of someone overhearing.

I felt my heart starting to race, my breath running short. My stomach turning – even if I had only drank that tiny bottle of wine. I sit up, in a desperate attempt to relive the sudden tension that was building up in the dim lit atmosphere; to understand what he was thinking. However, apart from the sudden, slight concern, there was nothing more I could see. For once again, he was hiding whatever was going on inside his head, into the blue of his stare.

I reached for his hand.

"What is it?"

He sighed upon me touching him.

"I just wonder who would want to remind me of the past, after so long."