It Must Have Been The Wind

Louis dropped his keys into the bowl by his front door and let out a groan, running his hands down his face. He dragged himself into his bedroom and promptly fell face down onto the bed, letting out another long groan into the duvet. He stretched his arms over his head, his shoulders and elbows popping, before he toed his shoes off onto the floor, the loud thunks making him wince and the pounding in his head worsen.

He knew he needed to change his clothes and make himself something that resembled a dinner, but the long days at his office had started to take a toll on him. It was a bit after 9pm and he was just now getting home after spending over 12 hours at work. At least the overtime pay would be worth it.

Louis finally convinced himself to get up with a few grumbles because the idea of having his work clothes on his bed made him feel too gross to continue to lay there. Like, really–outside clothes on inside furniture? Not a fan.

He grabbed his comfiest–more like oldest and most worn out–pair of sweatpants and a stretched out tshirt before tugging off his button down and trousers. He hastily pulled the other clothes on and padded into the kitchen, absentmindedly scratching at his stomach as he went.

He yanked open the fridge door with a little more force than necessary, the beer bottles in the shelves clinking at the movement. Well, if they wanted attention, they definitely got it. He quickly grabbed one and his bottle opener, popping the cap and taking a long swig as he eyed the very nearly empty fridge. It looked like he lived off of takeout boxes and beer. Which honestly? Maybe he did. Damn, he needed to go grocery shopping.

As he rifled through the random to-go containers that had foods in various states of 'is this still good?', the shouting began.

"Fucking christ," he groused to himself as he shut the fridge door. He used the hand not currently clutching the beer bottle like a lifeline to push into his left eyelid, willing the throbbing pain in his head to die down.

As much as Louis loved living in the city, his apartment complex had some of the thinnest walls and floors known to man. His upstairs neighbors were usually never the ones to give him trouble, but he guessed that ended today.

He gave up his search for food and decided that beer was as good of a dinner as any. It has calories and, like, carbs and shit. It is basically a food. His feet dragged as he made his way to his couch and plopped down. He sat down his bottle and searched for the TV remote, finally finding it wedged between two of the couch cushions. He was just about to press the power button when the shouting upstairs managed to somehow get even louder. They must either be shouting directly into the floor or that person had the strongest lungs of anyone outside a newborn child. Louis was not quite sure which one it was.

He grabbed his bottle and tipped his head back, hoping and praying the alcohol would soothe the voices ringing in his ears and the pain in his head. He let out a hissed breath and leaned his head back against the couch, his eyes slipping closed. He knew he should not eavesdrop but if he concentrated really hard he could just make out some of what was being said, or, more like screamed, upstairs. Who was he to turn down free reality tv?

The sounds were muffled but it seemed to be only one person yelling. Were they on the phone maybe? No, that can't be right. He could just make out someone else sobbing under all of the yelling.

Suddenly, Louis felt a lot more guilty for listening in to whatever was going on. He was about to get up and find his noise canceling headphones when he heard glass shatter. Then it went eerily quiet, even Louis holding his breath. He looked up at the ceiling as if he would be able to see what happened through the floor and insulation and plaster, but it gave him no answers as the seconds of silence dragged on. Finally, a loud sob erupted from someone in the apartment and their front door was slammed shut, the frames on Louis' walls even shuddering with the force.