By definition, the word 'silence' means, "complete absence of sound." The way Louis sees it, is that there's many ways you could define silence.
There's the silence in a classroom, students scared of getting in trouble, students scared to call attnetion to rhemselves.
There's the silence that happens at night, when everything is calm and quiet, everyone asleep, not a sound to be heard.
There's the silence between two people, an awkward silence, a shy silence, a calming silence, and so forth.
Silence is supposed to be calming. It's supposed to be a sort of relief. But then there's that silence in your heart caused by someone's absence. That someone had such a major impact on you, such an important role in your life, that they left behind a gap in your heart when they left. Nothing can fill in that gap, so now it's nothing but silence.
Harry left such a big gap in his heart that not even all the liquor or smokes in the world could fill it back up. But as Louis took another drag from his smoke, empty beer bottles at his feet, a single blade at his side, he simply didn't care. A whole month has passed since he had gone ice skating with the other lads. He thought he was getting better, he thought he was going to be okay. But then he found Harry's little journal, the very one he had always been seen with, and read through everything, his heart breaking with every page he turned.
If only he had done something different. If only he had told him the truth, told him about Modest! and about El, told him he loved him, maybe he would've spared Harry from all the heartbreak. Maybe even himself.
He put out the cigarette, throwing it across his room's floor, not caring where it landed. He had gone back to his flat for this, not wanting to do it Zayn's, the man could easily walk in on Louis and he didn't want to take that risk. He slid down to the floor, his back against the bed. His hand reached up to grab the silver blade sitting on his bed. He turned it over a few times in his hand before tears started to fall down his face.
"Fucking coward.." He muttered to himself.
The silence was driving him crazy, but then again, he caused the silence. It was his fault there was any silence to begin with. His heart ached for some sort of comfort or relief, but he knew none would come this time. No, this time Harry wouldn't come back. He wouldn't wake up again and he wouldn't come back and act as if nothing happened. And it was all his fault.
He screamed in frustration, hands balled up his hair, his salty tears spilling into his open mouth.
"I'm sorry!!" He screamed agonizingly.
He rubbed at his teary eyes, small whines and whimpers escaping his lips. "Please come back." He cried harder.
Silence is all he got as a response.
He stumbled to his feet, still gripping onto the blade, not even noticing the blood that was seeping out from his fist from how tightly he was holding the blade. He leaned onto the nightstand to hold him as he grabbed his phone. Blindly, he scrolled through his contacts till he found who he was looking for. On the fourth ring, the person finally answered.
"Lou?" They sounded worried.
"El!" He hiccupped.
He could almost see the confused look on her face by now. "Uh, hey Lou. Are you okay?"
"I'm," another hiccup. "buzzing!!" He grinned widely.
"You're drunk." She said, not even a question, more like a statement.
