I'm in Love With A Criminal

~21~

Hey besties

I'm so sorry for taking a long time again. Not that you care, but I was gonna upload this last Tuesday after work, but I picked up a shift last second so I worked double shift that happened to be part of closing. Then, I was planning on finishing this and uploading it the next day, but my WiFi has been complete shit these past few days and I haven't been able to even open the app😀

Anygay, let's begin. Long-ish chapter to make up for the long wait!

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It's been four days. Word was now everywhere in the fifty mile radius of Doncaster that the Tomlinson household was finally together and safe. Plenty of reporters have been gathering outside of their house with multiple questions per reporter that have been yearning for an answer from the boy himself. Of course, they were always turned away by the family, but never Louis himself.

He had been hiding in his bedroom and desperately trying to find a clear answer to what he was feeling. The days were spent watching random videos and movies, and leaving to get a drink or snack once in a while (although most of the time, his family were the ones bringing up food). The nights were spent listening to music, shedding a few tears, being overwhelmed as he fell into a hopeless pit of thoughts that would keep him awake and asking "why?" And even when he would toss and turn and try his best to fall asleep, those thoughts would always come rushing back, taunting him in a way and pushing him into a heartbreaking despair that was physically painful as it was emotionally.

With all the time he spent in his room, he wasn't able to take care of himself. He slept in sweat and natural oil—from the lack of showering—and never dried his face of tears, which had left his skin to break out with acne. Only Lottie came into his room to take plates and cups, and every time she saw him she felt an intense pressure in her chest. Let's just say that Louis wasn't the only one that was experiencing an intense feeling for the first time ever.

After awhile, she came in with a plate of a classic Sunday roast to give her brother, who only turned away and stared at the wall. He grabbed the blanket and covered himself in a tight cocoon. That's when she set the plate on his overflowing desk and took a seat next to him.

"Louis?" She started softly, gently pushing his shoulder and earning a low groan. "Lou, please talk to me? Or just show signs that you're listening."

And she got what she wanted; crystal eyes glared up into hers with zero emotion in sight. His cheeks were red, nose was puffy and noticeably sore from blowing and wiping it too much and too often, and his hair was a hot mess. It looked like he made his bed his home, with plates and bowls—some empty, some still completely full and untouched—surrounding the radius of his bed. Not to mention the overflowing trash can that was filled with tissues, paper plates and God only knows what.

"What's wrong, Loubear?" Lottie asked. The only answer she got was a quiet shrug. "Can you at least tell me what happened while you were gone?"

"No, no-" Louis quickly said. His eyes had sprung open and he nearly jumped out of bed.

"Okay, okay. It's alright," Lottie quickly hushed him and motioned for him to relax. "Was it...?"

She wandered off, but Louis knew who she was talking about. Who else could it be? He was quite hesitant to nod but eventually got there. Her expression fell even more, until she began thinking about everything. Before she could stop herself, she blurted out something unimaginable. Something that even she was shocked about.

Louis' face went more pale as he heard what she asked and shook his head. "What? That's crazy..."

"I know. I don't know why I said that," Lottie said. But she knew his body language. He was fiddling with his fingers, he was licking his lips, he was looking everywhere else but at her. "Wait, Louis... stop it."