A few days later, Louis is coming back from an afternoon walk with Clifford when he hears his name called from inside the living room. He"s a bit shocked when he finds Mrs Chadwick inside, curled up by the window, basking in the sun with a sketchbook open on her lap as she draws the cliffs. He thought for sure all the guests were outside."I"m surprised you"re not outside with the others," Louis teases as he walks in instead of saying hi. "We don"t always get them sunny like this, the beach is beautiful today. You"d get some great viewpoints of the cliffs and the lighthouse from down there."
The elderly woman smiles at him kindly. "I wanted a bit of peace and quiet," she explains. "Being on holiday with the grandkids is lovely, but I don"t have the energy I used to, you know."
Louis nods. "Of course, I understand. The beach is really busy," he says as he walks closer, taking a look at her drawing. It"s remarkably precise. "That"s beautiful," he comments, pointing at it.
She doesn"t blush. Instead, she beams at him with pride and a hint of smugness. "Isn"t it?" she says cheekily.
"You"re very talented."
"Thank you, dear. I can"t quite believe you get to be here every day."
At that, Louis smiles. "I can"t quite believe it either. I"m really lucky." He says the last part quietly, mostly to himself, before he smiles at her a little more politely this time, rubbing his hands together. "Now, what can I do for you? Would you like a nice cold drink? I know it gets warm by the windows."
"What you can do for me?" Mrs Chadwick asks, eyes confused under her thick-rimmed black glasses.
"You called me in here?" Louis says, a bit hesitant, hoping she hasn"t forgotten.
"Oh! Of course, silly me. No, no, you"ve got it wrong my dear boy, it"s what I can do for you."
"Pardon?" Louis says, quite properly confused.
"That nice little postman was here," she says and Louis can"t help but snort at the idea of describing MacLean, who towers over most with his 6 "3 stature, as little. "He"s left a postcard for you," she adds and Louis" inhales sharply.
It"s only been a few days since he last had news. It"s not a bad thing, not having to wait. Of course, it"s not, but Louis is not used to receiving Harry"s letters so close together.
While he"s come to loathe the wait in between each postcard, it"s part of his routine now. Days and weeks go by and he pretends he"s fine while silently moping and pining at night. It"s the new normal. Between each of Harry"s new letters, Louis tries to keep himself busy, tries to cheer himself up that way, but underneath he"s restless, fearing he might have received the last one without even knowing it, fearing Harry won"t warn him before stopping to write and he"ll be left unsatisfied with no closure. It"s not great, but it"s what Louis has become used to.
This lack of delay between correspondence is giving him a bit of whiplash.
Does it mean anything?
"Oh, did he?" Louis finally replies after a long pause. "Well, thank you for getting my mail for me, that"s very kind." He offers her his hand expectantly, stomach tightening with nerve.
Mrs Chadwick flips a few pages from her sketchbook until she finds the two she nestled the postcard between. "There you are," she says kindly.
"Thank you," Louis mumbles, staring at the new card he barely had to wait for, at the busy street depicted on it, Tokyo! written on the bottom.
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TIRED TIRED SEA (Larry Stylinson) by MediaWhore on AO3
FanfictionAs a B&B owner on the most remote of all the British Isles, Louis Tomlinson is used to spending the coldest half of the year in complete isolation, with his dog and the sea as sole companions. Until, one day, a mysterious stranger on a quest to rebu...