DEPRESSION/SELF HARM
Is There Such A Thing As Redemption?
After his session in the basement with two of his boys, Louis lazily climbed the stairs from the basement leading up to the first floor. He felt relaxed yet numb and empty. He felt as if he was on auto pilot, his body just going through the motions. He had taken a belt to his boys and fucked them both but his heart hadn't been in it and they had noticed. He hadn't even hit them that hard! Something inside him had died yet he was still living, crippled by memories that tormented him.
The house was silent as he climbed up slowly to the second floor. Nobody was around. Louis never knew loneliness before but now he felt it. It was horrible. He made his way towards his room but stopped in front of the guest bedroom. He rested both his palms and forehead against the door and took a few deep breaths. Louis turned the knob slowly and pushed the door open and walked inside, not even knowing why he was in here in the first place. He didn't know what he expected to find but the empty room with the neatly made bed hit him harder than he would've though possible, intensifying the feeling of loneliness and loss within him.
He flipped on the lampshade and closed the door silently behind him. The room was clean and the bed freshly made. Everything was tidy. His boots where under the chair. His white shirt and black pants from yesterday evening draped neatly on the back of the chair. He walked over to the dresser. On the top of it, were his hair ties. He opened the top drawer, fingering his boxers and socks. He closed it and opened the second one. It held some more of his clothes including his white Rolling Stones tee shirt, the ripped one that he obsitnately refused to throw away even though Louis had promised him a brand new one signed by the band members themselves! And had watched his face comically transform into awe as he had realized the Louis knew Mick Jagger!
Louis smiled sadly at the memory as he inhaled the t-shirt that still held Harry's scent and the pain in his chest nearly drove him to his knees. He knew that as long as he lived he would never ever forgive himself for what he had done to him. He knew that he had snapped and that he needed to go back to therapy as soon as possible. He could feel that things were going downhill for him. He could feel himself losing control over his emotions, over his mental being, over his heart. And he couldn't allow that. His control and dominance where everything.
Louis sighed heavily. Never in his thirty years of life had he ever felt so lonely. He didn't even want to go back to his room. He undressed and got into the shower. He washed his hair with his strawberry shampoo and used his mango and vanilla body wash and the scents brought him back to Louis as if he was in the shower with him. He closed his eyes and imagined him there, laughing, his eyes shining and dimples in his cheeks, happy as he ducked his head under the shower head, his curls reaching way past his shoulders. Louis' heart ached because he had destroyed all that. Single handedly he had destroyed Harry.
He turned off the shower and dried himself off. He put on Harry's Rolling Stones t-shirt and climbed into bed, spooning Harry's pillow tightly to his chest. And if he sobbed his heart out into that pillow, nobody had to know.
X
Next morning when Louis went down for breakfast, he was back to himself, no trace of the emotional breakdown from last night. Dressed in a black suit and crisp white shirt, his hair quiffed to perfection as always, he entered the kitchen and sat at the breakfast bar, picking up the morning's newspaper. His self control was back and what happened last night in that small guest bedroom, would never see the light of day.
