SPACES [Editing]

The Same Sky

You all know how star-obsessed I already am but I'm in the mood so here's another astral chapter! 🌟💫

BIG TWIST COMING

NEXT CHAPTER

AND THE NEXT ONE

UNTIL THIS ENDS, PROBABLY

I'M JUST SAYING

!!!!!!TRIGGER WARNING!!!!!!

Songs of the chapter:

- Talk by Kodaline
- Jealous by Labrinth
- Sway by The Perishers
- Beside You by 5 Seconds of Summer
- A Bad Dream by Keane
- Something Great by One Direction
- You Could Be Happy by Snow Patrol

Louis Tomlinson

Even when you know what's coming, even when you think you know what's going to happen, you're never going to be prepared for how it feels.

Right now it feels like I'm carrying the weight of everything I've done in my shoulders. I just left the love of my life.

Mornings have been bad. I lie awake in bed and force myself to wake up and adjust to a  new routine. Having breakfast alone, or with Liam, depending on how early he wakes up. Driving to school in my car and being proper teach-y like how society expects me to be.

Afternoons are bearable, except when they come to a close. Sunsets bring out the worst in me, especially when they paint the sky with different gradients of different colors. It's when the tears start forming again when I thought I've already forgotten the feeling.

I couldn't stand staring at beautiful things because they remind me so much of him-- so I beat the red lights when I'm driving home just so the sunset couldn't catch up to me.

I come home to an empty house unless Liam decides to come home early. Most of the time, he doesn't; most of the time I'm left alone to cry and sulk, which is a good thing, apparently. He says that it's exactly what I need.

The piece of metal that rings that part where my forefinger meets my knuckle feels so cold against my skin. I haven't gotten myself to remove it yet because somehow it feels like it's the only object that links me and Harry.

The bed feels cold and it feels like it's so much bigger than it really was. Somehow everything feels wrong, like I'm burning through the coldness of everything. Like I'm dying to get out but I'm just letting myself wallow in self-pity because I know I deserve it.

And I have developed some kind of great loathing towards myself for not thinking things through. I've hurt Harry: a person who bleeds through other people's wounds. I cut scars on his unselfish skin, the skin that could instantly provide warmth to the coldest of hearts.