In Too Deep (Dancing With The Shadows)

twenty seven

It's hard knowing that the person you love has to be let go in order to keep them safe.

It's hard knowing that after everything you've been through, has been all for nothing because you cannot hold them close anymore.

It's as though a star you've seen throughout the cloudless nights, that always guided you home safely from your burdens and shadows, has suddenly disappeared, dying with the age so the world is just that tiniest bit dimmer—much like the soul.

It's as though your heart has been ripped out from your chest, claws digging into the flesh, stopping you from breathing, screaming, and crying out. And all you can do is watch your heart get crushed into dust that'll float away with the breeze.

It hurts.

Louis grazes his fingers over the new burn on his thigh, feeling the sting tingle his skin, feels the way it bobbles up slightly instead of being the normal smooth.

He wipes at his tear stained face, knows his eyes are most likely red rimmed and still swimming with more tears. He can feel the puffiness of his under eye and the warmth of his blotchy cheeks.

He wishes he never met Harry, because the pain wouldn't be so unbearable as it is now.

He stares out the window, not really fixating his eyes on anything specific. He just watches the world unfocus whilst his eyes glaze over, mind buzzing with thoughts unknown and some from the past like a hive of wasps.

He doesn't hear the heavy footsteps as his brain is still fixated on staring out the bloody window. Only when a knock on his door sounds, does he startle and he's whipping his head toward the sound where Peter is now standing in the doorway.

Peter's eyes travel along Louis' face, before they glance down toward the burns peppering Louis' thigh. His shoulders slump whilst Louis' eyes widen.

"Oh, bud, please tell me you didn't resort back to that again," Peter says gently, pain lacing every word and each one pounds into Louis' ears like a punishment.

Louis winces a little at the look of pity and slight disappointment on his dad's face.

"I'm so sorry, Dad," he whispers, pulling his legs up toward his chest so he can rest his cheek on his knee. He sniffles. "I really am sorry."

Peter closes the space between them, the bed creaking that slightest bit from the weight of Peter as he sits down on the edge of it, mattress dipping. He lays a hand hesitantly on his son's knee.

"You need to get out of this mindset, Louis. You need to go outside and refresh your mind. You need help," Peter decides sternly.

Louis' lip quivers. "I don't want the help, though. It's too much talking to someone about your issues, especially when you're the fault of bringing a guy in that murdered your brother," Louis bites back, emotions sloshing through his body like a choppy wave.

His phone buzzes from the bedside table and he sighs lightly toward it. He picks it up, switching the phone off completely.

"Who was it?" Peter asks, motioning with his head toward the phone.

Louis rubs his nose with the back of his hand. "Harry. He's been texting and calling non stop all day."

Peter hums in thought. "I'd probably do the same if the love of my life decided to up and leave with no word about it. You need to tell him the truth."

Louis sinks further into the bed. He can't possibly think of anything worse of telling Harry the truth here, especially with the way that the threat given is by his own management team—ex management team.