London [Louis Tomlinson]

8: Gravity

Shit I know it's been 6 months and what doesn't help is that this chapter is basically a filler and pretty boring. Like, when I was planning this story I thought hmm, better add a chapter in here to sort of calm things down before the next two chapters (which are gonna be super spicy by the way) but I didn't realise how boring this was going to be and it's probably the worst way to return to a story which I've neglected for so long. I'm sorry guys :(

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After I left, something told me I couldn't return home.

I wouldn't be able to face my mother, who I was convinced was heavily disappointed with Louis and I's split. She wasn't taking all her anger out on me, wasn't blaming me for something which was out of my control, but the general situation still left her saddened, and I couldn't face her like that.

She probably believed Louis and I were going to get married. And she had reason to, of course. We'd known each other since we were babies, had reunited with each other years later and fallen so deeply in love, formed what we then thought was an inseparable bond. Our relationship had been so perfect, that the thought of it ending was unheard of, an unimaginable scenario. It seemed like we were just going to go on and on, past university and into adulthood, where we'd get engaged, then married, and then kids would start popping up. My mother had clearly been so optimistic for our future, was probably already brainstorming wedding themes and names for her grandchildren, that to hear of Louis' and I's relationship coming to a sudden closure, well, it was no surprise that she'd need a day or two to come to terms with it all.

So no, I couldn't return home, with my mother's 'subtle' glances and the look on her face practically screaming disappointment. I needed to get away, travel to places where I hadn't been in a while, escape from mine and the Tomlinson's houses; which had become the most familiar and dangerous of all.

It occurred to me that in the three days that I'd been in Doncaster, not once had I expanded my horizons past those two locations, had instead been cooped up in walls containing memories I didn't want to relive and people I didn't want to see. I needed a fresh beginning, a place to clear my head.

I thought of rolling hills and green scenery, and decided that the park would be my best option. But first, I wanted to have a bit of a walk around elsewhere, reacquaint myself with the town I once called home, maybe stop for some brunch.

I took the local bus to the centre of town, stopping outside a row of shops on the high street. Walking down the pavement, it was nice to just blend in with all the other passers-by. I felt like I'd been the centre of attention ever since I set foot off the train, and naturally being an introvert, it was relaxing to receive some time to myself.

My feet dragged me towards a small art supplies shop on the corner. It was stocked with canvases, sketchpads, easels, a huge range of paints, pencils and other materials, as well as small miscellaneous trinkets and knickknacks used for crafts. There was a heavy focus on Christmas, with a lot of products relating to homemade tree ornaments; little Styrofoam angels and stars which you could decorate. A lot of families lined the shop's aisles, parents bringing their kids to find some sort of holiday art project to keep them busy.

I had money with me. That's a habit which was particularly enforced during my time in London, to never leave the house without a few pounds. That, plus a lighter, a pen and some lip balm. Those were my essentials.

I ended up purchasing a new sketchbook, since my old one was sitting back home at the bottom of my suitcase, weathered thin and filled with old drawings which I no longer found comfort in. Additionally, I got a set of grey lead pencils, thinking that I could pour out one or two sketches this afternoon.