Boundless •L.S•

A Mess|35

As Louis stood amidst the mourners, surrounded by a sea of somber faces and tear-stained cheeks, the weight of grief settled heavily upon his shoulders. His closest friend, the person that he had gotten to call a sister, was gone. The air felt heavy with sorrow, and the world seemed to move in slow motion as he struggled to come to terms with the reality of her absence.

The funeral passed in a blur of condolences and whispered words of comfort. Each hug, each sympathetic glance, only served to deepen the ache in his chest. How could they go on without their friend? How could Louis navigate this world without her laughter, her warmth, and unwavering support? It felt as if each pitiful smile cast his way fueled a fire inside him. It must be simple for them to be here?

As the funeral drew to a close and nearly everyone began to leave, Louis found himself unable to move. He lingered by the graveside, unable to tear himself away from the final resting place of his dear friend. The pain was overwhelming, suffocating, and he felt as though he was drowning in a sea of grief. Louis could swear that he heard his mates telling him to get up and that it was getting late many times, and yet if he truly thought about it, he wasn't too sure anymore. Did they? Maybe, but Louis didn't hear.

Everything was a blur. If you asked Louis how he ended up in his London flat, he wouldn't be able to answer because he doesn't know himself. He knows that it has been a very long time since he has been here, though. It was this place that his mother always stayed at when she would come to visit Louis. Just down the hallway was the room she used to sleep in. If anything, the knowledge alone made his heart clench in such a painful way.

With the days that followed, the weight of her loss became unbearable. Louis found himself unable to sleep, unable to eat, unable to find solace in anything but his memories of happier times. The world around him seemed to lose its color, its vibrancy, as though it too was mourning the loss of someone just as dear as Lea was to Louis.

During those awful times, some of Louis darkest shadows seemed to be creeping their way back out, insidious and relentless. At first, it was just a faint whisper in the back of their mind, a subtle suggestion of maybe that Louis had learned to control.

But with each passing day, the whispers grew louder, the shadows deepened, until Louis was enveloped in a suffocating darkness.

Now he knew he had nothing, nobody to call. Louis is painfully aware that he had been the one who pushed Harry away. The weight of that knowledge kept on bearing down on Louis shoulder each time that the temptation was getting stronger.

The urge to numb the pain, to escape the relentless ache that gnawed at his soul, became all-consuming. It was as if the shadows had taken on a life of their own, whispering lies of solace and comfort, promising respite from the unbearable weight of grief.

And so, Louis found himself succumbing to the darkness, allowing it to swallow him whole as he sought refuge in the haze of drugs. Each hit, the drugs, offered a temporary reprieve from the agony that threatened to consume him, but it came at a cost. The shadows grew stronger, their grip tighter, until he was consumed by a darkness so profound that even the light of hope seemed dim and distant.

The day that Louis had xaved to those dark temptations was when he had heard the voice of an angel calling out his name.

Louis was high, and he may have been out of it, but he could recognise that voice even if he was suffering hell's most painful and agonising tortures - he knows he would.

When the angel entered the room, he had been wearing that expression - Louis knows that face - it's his angel that has put his guards up once again trying to shelter his beautiful soul from this world perhaps even from Louis himself.