One Direction Fanfiction (On Hold)

The One That Got Away (Louis) (part 1)

I feel the tingle in my cheeks against the phone. It's the first sign that I'm starting to begin to process everything before me.

My throat tightens. It feels like suffocation. Maybe it is suffocation.

My chest speeds up. It hurts with a pain I cannot describe.

Suffocating, I think again.

It's the only word I can think of, because it feels like the only thing anything is even doing at this moment.

My feet shuffle back. I feel like they're out of my control. Then again, I feel like everything is out of my control.

Words keep surrounding me, but they're drained out and silenced by memories that now flood in.

"You never treat me right."

The sentence bursts from my lips before I can think of holding back. In some ways, it feels like a relief to say it, because holding it back is exactly what I have done for 2 weeks. To hear the words--no, feelings--spoken into air for the first time in many ways feels like a huge weight lifted from my chest.

"Treat you right?" Louis gawks. "I treat you more than right. In fact you flounce around this house like a snobby princess and all I ever do is 'treat you right'. It's not like you do any work in the house."

His retaliation shoots a hole directly through my relief. My jaw clenches, and I'm spitting my reply at him before I even recognize I'm mad.

"I do loads in this house; I at least do way more than you!"

He laughs and moves from where we have been fighting in the kitchen to the living room couch and lays down. Anger surges through me as I follow him.

He remarks one calm word: "Lies."

I don't know what to do, so I grab a pillow and haul it at him. It hits his face. His chilled atmosphere changes. His smile fades. His eyes say "war mode."

I probably should not have done that.

But it's too late. Anger has already taken reign over speech and actions, and it's too late to regain leadership now.

"I am not lying!"

I scream it as loud as I can. He snarls.

"See, you're already acting like the stuck-up princess again."

This makes me want to slap him. Before I can prevent myself, I see my hand voyaging across his cheek, which immediately reddens.

I feel the tingle in my cheeks against the phone. It's the first sign that I'm starting to begin to process everything before me.

My throat tightens. It feels like suffocation. Maybe it is suffocation.

My chest speeds up. It hurts with an indescribable pain.

Suffocating, I think again.

It's the only word I can think of, because it feels like the only thing anything is even doing at this moment.

My feet shuffle back. I feel like they're out of my control. Then again, I feel like everything is out of my control.

Words keep surrounding me like tornado, but they're drained out and silenced by memories that now flood in.

"You never treat me right."

The sentence bursts from my lips before I can think of holding it back. In some ways, it feels like a relief to say it, because holding it back is exactly what I have done for two weeks. To hear the words--no, feelings--spoken into air for the first time in many ways feels like a huge weight lifted from my chest.

"Treat you right?" Louis gawks. "I treat you more than right. In fact you flounce around this house like a snobby princess, and all I ever do is 'treat you right'. It's not like you do any work in the house."

His retaliation shoots a hole directly through my relief. My jaw clenches, and I'm spitting my reply at him before I even recognize I'm mad.

"I do loads in this house; I at least do numerous more things than you!"

He laughs and moves from where we have been fighting in the kitchen to the living room couch and lays down. Anger surges through me that he would even go to the couch as I follow him.

He remarks one calm word: "Lies."

I'm beyond rage at this point and climbing right up onto the ledge of insanity.

I don't know what else to do to do with him anymore, so I grab a pillow and haul it at him. It smacks his face. His chilled atmosphere changes. His smile fades. His eyes declare "war mode."

I probably should not have done that.

But it's too late. Emotion has already taken reign over speech and actions, and it's too late to regain leadership now.

"I am not lying!"

I scream it as loud as I can. He snarls.

"See, you're already acting like the bratty princess again."

This makes me want to slap the crud out of him. Before I can prevent myself, I see my hand voyaging across his cheek, which immediately reddens.

Point one: emotions.

He doesn't even comment; he gets off the couch. I shuffle back. He backs me against the wall. I lean my head against the concrete and wonder anxiously at what will happen next.

He slides his finger under my chin forcefully enough to keep it in place, and I shiver from the cold touch. He steps close to me--too close--to where his body is two inches apart from and his feet are between my own. I can feel his warm breath against my lips.

"Nobody slaps me."

I can feel the tremble in his breath as he continues.

"If I don't treat you right, treat yourself right--when I'm gone. Enjoy taking care of your own dump for once."

His finger drops. He turns around and heads directly for the door. Not too fast, but just fast enough to make a show of his exit.

I follow him to the front door. He closes it behind him and gets into his beat-up blue mustang without another word between us.

Tears burn behind my eyes, and I know I'm crying. But I don't act like it, I don't give the tears authority or meaning; I simply keep staring forward.

His keys went into the ignition and drove off until I see the last speck of blue automobile vanish.

I turn around and head for the kitchen before I allow myself to recognize what's happening.

Chocolate chip cookie dough.

I smile and grab the container and a spoon, trooping up to my room and slipping under covers before completely sobbing and letting myself be engulfed by the situation.

"He's at the scene of the crash on Greenville Highway. They haven't been able to transport to the hospital yet," the phone informs me, disintegrating the memory.

I choke back everything to pronounce one sentence.

This was inspired by "The One That Got Away" by Katy Perry. I would really like to put it here so you can see the video, but it seems I can't. My apologies. Part two here? ~Rose