Uncovered {Larry Stylinson}-AU

The rain seemed to batter everything in its dark path as I strolled back towards the hotel I was sheltering in for a week or two. I pulled my hood up, the rain stinging my eyes as I pushed myself on through the gale force winds the accompanied the rain. I frowned, my black baggy jeans sticking to the skin underneath. I bowed my head shielding my eyes, the rain drops on my face sliding down, dripping off of the tip of my nose, into nothingness. Into darkness. I stuffed my hands into my jacket pockets the cold getting to much for them, turning the white. I chewed my moist bottom lip, my eyes watching my blue Toms. The colour used to be so bright. A lovely light blue, like the sky so rarely seen.

I shuffled down the deserted streets of London, back to the four star hotel. It was around ten thirty five in the evening, the moon no visible thanks to the dark rain clouds looming over the so beautiful city, normally so full of people from all over the world, looking doe souvenirs, going to see all but to famous plays in the big theaters, going to see the newest premiered movies. Tonight was one of those rare nights that it was like a city full of ghosts, no one was around. You feel so exposed to the world when no one else is around you. You feel so alone, but then again, someone like me is used to it. The feeling of being alone.

I shook my head softly, just breifly lifting my eyes to see where I was. I was on the right track it just seemed to drag on for hours, as I pushed my now heavy body through the rough weather, beating me like a boxer would a punching bag. My body was shivering, the temperature dropping more rapidly than normal in the summer months. I frowned slightly, I could feel my knees shaking the sudden extra weight causing a struggle.

Finally when the hotel reached my sights, a ghostly smile graced my lips, a sigh of relief pulling out of me with force. It seemed so far away, when really it was a couple of feet at most. I pushed through again, the bright lights from the reception area spilling through the sliding double doors. My body was begging for warmth, something I -as of yet- could not give.

When I entered the building, I let myself surrender to the blast of hot air that meets you when you enter, the doors sliding closed behind me. I pulled down my hood with shaking pale hands, shaking my body. The drops of water splattered against the cream colour walls, covering the glass in the picture frames on the walls. The frames held pictures painted centuries ago. I rubbed my face, rubbing the ice cold water, smearing it over my cheeks filled with colour. My brown hair was spiked in all directions as if I'd just woken up in bed. I pulled my still trembling fingers through my hair in a fruitless attempt to flatten it.

I wondered into the main building, the decore again had been changed, the oak wood furniture had been moved around, the carpets cleaned and crisp, the blood red carpets now their perfect original colour. The black framed pictures on the walls were straight and the dying flowers had been replaced with flowers newly grown. I pulled out my room key, shuffling towards the elevator. I couldn't physically wait to flop down on my bed and close my eyes. I was exhausted. The night wasted away on drinks at the bar. I should have been studying. I have final exams at University, for my history in a week and a half's time. I sighed, pressing the button, calling the elevator.

As I waited I leaned against the wall, just closing my eyes for a breif moment. Just quickly. I needed a break. You're probably wondering why I don't live in a flat, or with a friend. The reason behind it is because my only friend Liam Payne left University. I don't have the money to rent or buy a flat here in London. I jump from Travel Inn's to hotels, like a rabbit to burrows. Not the best way to live a University life if I am honest. It just builds to the stress one has in the first place.

I blinked open my sore, tired blue eyes as I heard the elevator ping, signalling its arrival. I slowly pushed off the wall, my feet aching. I rubbed my eyes with the heels of my palms and shuffled into the elevator. I chewed my still moist lip, leaning against the ice cold bars. There was no music, just the sound of my own breathing, the clinking of my zips on the bars. I pressed the button, for the fifth floor, waiting for the doors to close. I closed my eyes again, the familiar slide of the doors closing sounding in my ears.