Better With You [L.S.]

⛅~ 13 ~⛅

* Louis' POV - first person *

⛅

I walk all the way to Zayn's Studio. Before I enter the building, I feel a buzz in my pocket.

* New Message from Niall *
H

ey Louis. Harry told me you ran off to visit Zayn. Is everything okay?

I smile at Niall's concern, but frown again as I remember why I'm here.

(Conversation with Niall)

I'm fine, I just need to stay at Zayn's for a day

Niall
An entire day? What about your time with Harry?

Yes, an entire day. I can't be around anyone tomorrow. Just trust me on this

Niall
Alright. Stay safe

I put my phone back in my pocket, and enter Zayn's studio.

It's your fault.

"Hey, Lou," Zayn greets me as soon as I enter.

I quirk my eyebrow in surprise. "Were you waiting for me?"

"Yeah, I knew that it'd probably be really bad today, since the anniversary is tomorrow," Zayn explains.

I really love Zayn. He's such a good friend. I feel so much appreciation for him right now.

"Thanks, Z. Really," I smile.

"Of course, Lou. Now, do you need me to get the room ready?"

"Yeah, the voices have already started."

Zayn nods and goes into his room. I stay out in the Common Area, just waiting patiently.

Once Zayn comes back, we talk and have fun until it starts getting late. We share a sandwich for dinner, and I start to get fidgety.

"It's my fault, it's my fault," I murmur, pacing back and forth while rubbing my hands up and down my arms.

"It's not your fault. Come here, Lou, I think it's time to tie you down."

"Yeah, I think so too."

Zayn presses a hand to my back and guides me to his room. He leads me right through it so I can't see anything he's working on, and brings me to the Supply Closet.

It's a surprisingly big space. Zayn told me before that you need a lot of supplies for art. Everything was packed up neatly, and the center of the Closet had a small bed with ropes on it.

"You know the drill," Zayn says.

I nod and go over to the bed. I lay down and Zayn takes my hands, tying them to the bed with the rope. He does the same with my feet. I shift around to make sure that my movement is restricted.

"Do you want me to stay with you?" Zayn asks.

He asks this every year, but I can't do that to him. It's too dangerous when I'm like this.

"You know that's a bad idea, Zayn."

Zayn sighs. "Good luck, Louis."

⛅

The voices are in full force within an hour.

It's your fault.

You killed them.

You should've been there.

Murderer.

I start crying and screaming, tugging my arms against the rope to try to scratch at my body.

Every year on the week of the accident, I get horrifying nightmares and voices in my head. The first few weeks after the accident were rough, and Zayn had to tie me down to make sure I didn't hurt myself. He always brought me food and water, and eventually I was stable enough to go back to normal life. Every year since then, on the day the accident occured, I go back to my violent state of mind, and Zayn has to tie me down again.

The voices are still there the day after, but it's easier to ignore. I usually just have to spend the night before the anniversary, and the day of the anniversary, tied down for my own safety.

⛅

I'm not entirely sure when I fell asleep, but eventually I get woken up.

"Hey Lou. I brought food," Zayn greets softly.

I turn my head away from him, tears running down my face. I never feel hungry on the anniversary, but Zayn always makes sure that I eat anyway.

Zayn turns my head with his hand so that I'm facing him again. His eyes are apologetic.

"You need to eat," he says firmly, while still keeping the soft edge to his voice.

I don't say anything; I just stare blankly at the ceiling.

"Come on Lou, don't make me force feed you."

"It's not like you've never done it before."

"But I always feel bad. You're crying and squirming and it makes me feel useless because I can't help you calm down."

I sigh and open my mourh. Zayn feeds me bits of sandwich, and I do my best to eat it without breaking down.

Once the food is finished, Zayn turns to leave.

"Wait!" I shout.

Zayn turns around and quirks up an eyebrow.

"Can you hug me? Please?"

Zayn walks over and lays down on the bed next to me. He wraps his arms around my waist, holding me tightly. I bury my face in his chest, inhaling the familiar scent of paint and smoke that surrounds Zayn.

The food and familiar feeling of being hugged by my best friend calms me down a bit, and I let sleep cloud my mind.

⛅