In Too Deep (Dancing With The Shadows)

five

Louis shoves on his trainers, feet still very much bare. Clifford sits patiently at the front door and stares up at Louis with those pools of chocolate he has for eyes, tail swishing side to side and Louis does everything in him not to squeeze the daylight out of the puppy.

He's just too darn cute for this world, and he's always happy to see Louis, even if he's not the best of people, Clifford makes him know that he's enough for him.

Louis gives him a fuss before opening the front door, stepping out into the humid heat that encases the world. There's a few wisps of misty clouds rolling past lazily, a flock of birds flying below one where the sun beats down, causing shadows to bounce along the floor for a few seconds.

The pair set off for their daily walk around the woods beside the stables, feet slapping against the hot tarmac of the road before they crunch on the dead leaves from the previous autumnal fall. The brown shrivelled leaves are a contrast to the luscious green of the grass and splashes of pink from the foxgloves that tangle with the huge nettles.

It just goes to show that even in the hardest times where death is at the door, there's growth to be had to pick you back up again.

Louis hopes and hopes this'll be the case, but with each ticking second and rolling of the new years, he's never been too lucky with that statement. Nothing seems to pick him up anymore.

He's almost like a robot, feeling and doing the same thing day in and day out after that atrocious day. He has to try to distract himself from the thoughts more times than he can count before he plummets into the darkness forever.

Clifford barks at a squirrel, chasing it around the thick oak tree, losing sight of it when the squirrel climbs up the tree quickly.

"He's gone, lad. He's up there, flipping you off," Louis tells the dog, patting his back when he strolls past him. "Come on you big baby."

Clifford runs off before him, body a blur of black and white as he burns off the energy he has. Louis doesn't understand where the dog gets all that energy from.

He'd rather be sleeping, to be completely honest. Or scrolling through TikTok, anything that doesn't involve sweating his bollocks off in the sun.

Even though the trees are shading him from majority of the sun rays, there is still that sticky heat that clings on as if the world is a life line. His back is already sweating and he pulls off his shirt, letting it sit loosely over one shoulder.

"Clifford! This way, bud!" he calls when he sees Clifford about to jump over the ditch and further into the tree lines.

Louis is not wanting a do over from last winter when he had to chase the dog into those trees instead of the path, and ending up six feet in snow and almost falling into a puddle.

Okay, maybe it wasn't so much six feet, but it was a shit ton that Louis was certain the snowfall was twice the size of him (it was only mere inches but details details).

There's something about the nature, though, that brings a sense of peace within him. It's not fake when people say getting in touch with nature can help your mental health.

The way the leaves wave at him; the sun suffocatingly hugging him tight, the way the scent of the dirt and bark and flowers waft into his nose, the way the birds sing to him, it's all very much like a family gathering in a weird sense that nature helps him feel more at home.

Clifford drops a stick he's found at Louis' feet and Louis lobs it as far as he can manage. Maybe it's a bad idea getting Clifford too hot, especially in this heat, but he hates when Clifford whines and begs for playtime.