Lame Ringtone {l.s.}

seven.

It was a dark afternoon on Louis' funeral, a couple weeks after the feathery haired boy had died.

It was just Harry and a bag of Louis' ashes.

He wasn't close to his family, slowly drifting apart over the years as depression kicked in, drug abuse slowly weaving into a spot in Louis life. His sisters loved him though, Harry knew, because Louis got letters in the mail from them, telling him all sorts of stuff. And it shouldn't have been like that. But even after the years passed, their letters shortened until eventually disappearing.

Everyone left him.

Harry stayed, though.

Because he was utterly in love with the broken boy, even though he knew nothing good would come in the end. In the back of his mind he knew Louis wouldn't recover, but that just made Harry fight harder, until eventually losing the battle.

There was a slight wind that ruffled Harry's hair as he opened up Louis' ashes. He stared inside the case for awhile, wondering if things could have been different.

He sighed. He wasn't crying because he dried himself out. He was numb now, just floating uselessly in a sea of sadness. But Harry would pull through his depression sometime, because he still had an education to finish and get a job and a new house.

Things Louis always wanted.

Harry squeezed his eyes closed tightly as he dumped the ashes into the still lake in front of him. He was letting the last of Louis get away.

After a few deep breaths he opened his eyes and watched as the black flakes floated along the surface.

A couple hours later Harry left, passing by Louis' house on the way back home. A new family was moving in, a moving truck in the front yard.

They'll fill the house with happiness, he was sure. What Louis had failed to do, for the past three years he had lived there.

And then Harry knew that Louis was in a better place, although it hurt like h ell having him gone.

On instinct, he pulled out his phone and put on The Fray, letting the sound fill the car. It brought a sense of tranquility in his heart, and he blinked away a few rogue tears.

"I love you, Louis Tomlinson," Harry murmured.