They leave for San Francisco on an early Sunday morning.
The sky is purple and gold as the sun climbs over the hills, and Louis casts a long glance up towards the pine as he carries a box of his clothes to Zayn's truck. He feels reminiscent, his feet itching to the find the pedals of his bike and push up the hill, to watch the light eclipse the shadows of the town one last time.
It seems a bit like he's packing up his whole life, and it's a strange thought, his possessions all narrowed down to a few boxes, seventeen years taped up and stacked on top of each other. He isn't taking everything, has only packed his favourite records and books. It's his way of convincing himself that he has to come back, that there's pieces of himself here that he's got to come back for.
Despite it all, when Zayn slams the tailgate up, it feels final.
His mom hugs him tight and cries into his shoulder, makes him promise to call over and over, to let her know when he's coming back. And if he's not, to tell her where she can send his things. Louis is grateful, and he tells her so, sniffling into her shirt.
"I'm proud of you," she whispers to him fiercely. She pulls back to look him in the eye. "This is your life, Lou. I want you to go through it the way you want to. I want you to be happy."
"I am," Louis says. "I'm so happy, mom."
"Good," she sniffs harshly and wipes at her eyes. "Then I've done my job."
"I love you," Louis whispers, pulling her in for one last hug. She squeezes him tightly.
"I love you too, sweetheart."
"Lou, we gotta go," Zayn calls softly. He's leaning his arms on the side of the truck, smiling kindly at them.
"Okay," his mom wipes at her eyes again and smooths down her shirt, appearing to compose herself.
"I'll see you after the summer," Louis promises.
"Okay," she says again, lips bitten into her mouth.
Louis open the passenger door with a creak and slides onto the bench seat, leather sticky under his thighs. It's heating up already, the purples in the sky blending into the bronze rays on the hills. He takes a moment to pause as Zayn clambers in beside him, hones in on the sound of the river in the distance, watches the soft swish of the pines on the hills, breathes in the warm peach-salt air.
The Chevy rumbles to life around him and he blinks, slowly drawing his gaze away from the distance and onto the dash in front of him. It feels suspended, almost, this moment. The heady smell of gas floats up around him, the engine thick in his ears, and Louis clenches his teeth together a little and refuses to be melancholy.
"Zayn," he says softly, fiddling with his fingers.
Zayn puts the truck into gear with a thick clunk and a rattle. "Yeah?"
They pull away from the curb, away from the house he's laid his roots in for so long. There's an odd weight in his chest, one he hadn't anticipated. Louis swallows thickly. "Do we have time to make a quick detour?"
They pull up slowly to the Payne's house, Zayn turning the engine off and allowing the truck to roll to a stop. Louis stares out the window at it, the perfectly painted fence and the misty glow of the wood in the morning sun. The summer flowers crawl over the fence and look pastel and soft, slowly tilting up towards the light as everything becomes gradually gilded.
"Are you alright?"
Louis snaps his eyes away and wipes furiously at his wet cheeks. Zayn looks at him with concern, brows pulled together in confusion as Louis sniffs and tries to shake himself out of this. He mutters a quick be right back to Zayn, then he shoves the door open with a creak and shuts it quietly behind him.
YOU ARE READING
Here In The Afterglow
Fanfiction"If you hadn't noticed, I don't have many friends," Louis whispers, the blossom of insecurity in his stomach unfurling and clawing its way into his throat. Harry is silent for a long time, and then he speaks; a soft, slow uncurl that makes Louis' st...
