Immobilized (AU) (Larry Stylinson)

Chapter 18

Three Weeks Later

My long searches were quickly approaching four weeks. It would be a matter of time before a month of looking rolls around.

I didn't have a strategy at all, which was killing me. Every day I would search further and further with no such luck, whilst thoughts that attacked my brain, such as "Right now he could be at the local grocery store, and you're out here at the Doncaster airport. Stupid twat." Those thoughts did next to nothing to help, other than give me a mini panic attack.

Last week I resorted to pinning "MISSING" posters everywhere I searched, stating his name, a description, as well as showing a selfie of us, I took two months prior, cropped so Louis was the only one in it.

Some of the posters I came back to were either ripped to shreds, missing, or vandalized, although most were still untouched, or merely bent.

Also written on the poster was where to take Louis if found. I wrote to take him to the Hospital I was staying at and to request Harry Styles.

I hoped for many days that Louis had seen them, at least, although I was still very doubtful.

Also while working on this merciless task, I had seemed to catch a cold over this week. This means my raspy throat has gotten increasingly more raspy. My voice is hardly recognizable. Which is fine. I have a face and personality that shows I am still the same person.

Finally, I realize I am still in bed, staring at the white ceiling, in thought, at two pm.

I shake my head, to lose my trance, and struggle to pull my blanket off me. I suddenly fall to the ground.

Stupid clumsy body.

I roll out of the blanket and stand up, to fix my pajamas and hair.

Once I finished, I decided to skip the cafeteria's decent lunch and go for something delicious at the local diner, Romano and Juliet's.

I slipped on my coat, over my pj's, because who cares about proper clothing. I searched my pockets, and to my luck, I found some spare change. I smiled, forgetting my worries, and decided to relax and spend the first forty five minutes of today's break on my self.

I don't know why I am in such a beautiful mood, but let's not question it.

I took long strides joyfully, signed out, and waved good bye to Meryl as well as her confused expression at my chipperness.

I crossed the parking lot and jogged toward the diner down the road. It was an old eighties style diner, with the typical jukeboxes and roller skates.

Soon, I approached the lit up diner and pushed the door open. Quickly, Should I Stay Or Should I Go by The Clash filled my ears, as the workers rolled around to the beat. My smile grew, as memories of myself as a child, clouded my mind.

I found a nice table, that was perfectly tall for me, by the door, and took a seat.

I looked through the menu for a few minutes, while humming the song blasting from the jukebox. Once I had decided my meal, I placed down the menu, and almost immediately, a barista, I guess you could say, skated over.

"Would you like some tea?", she asked, while holding up a mug and jug of tea, and smiling.

I smiled back and nodded, "Yes, please." She poured me some and placed it on the table. She smiled and took off, while another employee skated over with a notepad and pen.

"Hello, are you ready to order?", the man, who was bald by choice and looked to be in his late twenties, asked. I politely smiled again and nodded.