After The End: Book 1

17. Loveable

Louis POV

Naomis apartment was in a quaint village in London. The building was old and brick. We entered through a doorway tucked away to the side. The door creaked when it opened and through it we entered into a small living room with shag carpets and a plain gray sofa. The bookshelf was massive and took up a good portion of the room. Next to it was a plush blue chair. I could imagine Naomi sitting there reading for hours. The house smelled like mint and vanilla. It was an inviting and homey place. She kicked her shoes off in the doorway and I followed suite.

Lux must have been asleep because the only light came from a small nightlight in the hallway. Naomi led me silently down the hall and to a room on the right. I had to squint in the dark to see, but the hallway was adorned with photos of a smaller childlike Naomi and glamour shots of a girl I didn't recognize, who must have been Lux. She was very confident, I could tell.

Naomis bedroom was small and cramped. Her bed was up against one wall and a single dresser was on the other. There was another bookshelf shoved up against the wall beside it.

Naomi pulled her apron from the grocery store where she worked off of the purple sheets of the bed and tossed it on to the bookshelf. We hadn't spoken much on the way here. She'd asked if I was okay, and I had said yes in the most unconvincing tone. Every few minutes she would shoot me a concerned look and I would glance out the window and pretend I couldn't feel her eyes boring into mine. I tried not to think of Harry, or at the very least, not his impending demise. Despite my efforts, the vision of his pale unmoving body was sitting in the forefront of my mind.

Naomi pulled the covers back on the bed and gestured for me to get in beside her as she settled in. I obeyed, unsure what else to do. We were both fully clothed but that didn't seem to shake her.

Laying beside her in bed normally felt inviting and comfortable but all I felt was stiff and out of place. Naomi didn't curl up to me like she usually did. For a moment, we both lay there staring at the ceiling in the darkness. Then I rolled over to face her and said, "If he does die, what am I supposed to do next?"

I could just barely see the silhouette of her features. Her eyes shined as they reflected what little light the room provided. I realized her eyes were damp. "I don't know Louis," she admitted.

I sighed. I didn't know either. My entire life revolved around trying and failing to keep Harry out of trouble. What was I supposed to do without that?

She grabbed my hands under the sheets.

"He was stalling," I added as if I hadn't already told her. "He saw things going south and I froze but he just kept trying. He threw himself in front of the gun and refused to move." Even as I said the words they didn't feel real. Annoying, selfish Harry had been working to save my life. He didn't beg for his own salvation, just mine. He'd wanted me thrown from the sinking ship before going down with him. He had almost no self preservation instinct.

Naomi nodded. "I know." She looked deep in thought for a moment. "He really cares about you."

"But he brought those people to my house," I added miserably. That was the other side of the double edged sword. Through Harry's heroism that day, he had exposed me to a great threat. The very threat he'd also defended me from.

"He never thought that would happen," she defended him. "Louis he would never intentionally hurt you."

I nodded feeling numb. She was right, I knew, but how far was I supposed to let things go before I started drawing uncrossable lines with him. He was almost dead. Was I to wait until I was there too?

"I'm sorry," Naomi said to me in a soft voice.

"What do you have to apologize for?" I was confused.