Letters (A Dark Louis Tomlinson Fanfic)

Chapter 46

*Trinity's PoV*

Right then and there, the mood changed completely. The atmosphere was no longer as heavy and suffocating as it had been, and I was delighted about that. We were finally on the road to recovery again after our shouting match.

Yeah, that's what I was thinking, right before I saw the smoke over Louis' shoulders.

 

 

Well, shit.

The soup. I forgot about the soup. Oh my god. Please, for the love of God, tell me that the god-damn soup did not go on freakin' fire. 

Louis walked over to me, enveloping me in his familiar embrace. I was unable to react to it or hug him back; my gaze lay transfixed on the ever-growing cloud of smoke that was emitting from the kitchen. 

"I'm sorry," he murmured, "But can we please just leave this alone for now. It's just something small and it won't affect you, I promise."

His hand played with the ends of my hair that dangled down my back as he spoke the hushed words. Normally, I would have been relieved (and probably would have started crying, too), but my mind was elsewhere.

"I just love you so much and I-," he began again, but I cut him off abruptly.

"Louis, that's lovely but you should really stop because-," I babbled hurriedly, but Louis placed a finger over my mouth, clearly not understanding my panicked tone.

"No, you need to stop," he murmured, peppering kisses along my jawline, "I'm sorry, okay. Just give me time. You're the sweetest girl I've ever known, and man, you are an animal in the sack, and-,"

This time, I decided to try a more direct tactic.

"Louis, your kitchen is on fire!" I shouted, hoping to catch his attention. And boy, did it do just that. 

Within a millisecond, he had released me from his arms and had whirled around to where I was looking. His breath audibly hitched in his throat and a whimper of disbelief left his lips. He ran into the kitchen and I stayed where I was, rooted to the spot.

"What the fuck?!" he screamed, right before the smoke alarm went off. He stood stationary for only a second, before returning back into the room to get me, towing me out by the arm, shutting all of the kitchen doors, and yanking me outside into the front garden. While doing this, he rummaged around for his phone and dialled 999 promptly.

Tears slithered mutely down my cheeks as I stood, stupefied, unable to say or do anything. This was it, I was sure. It was the end of everything that I had invested myself into for the last few months. I had set his motherfucking kitchen on fire, right after we had been seriously arguing, and now he was going to break up with me. I closed my eyes and told myself that I deserved it, that I had gotten myself into the mess.

I was so lost in my own saddened thoughts that I didn't notice Louis hurling picking up handfuls of gravel that lay on the ground and hurling them carelessly in every and any direction, grunting in vexation. I sniffled while he was in between throws and he looked up at me.

"You," he snarled, "You don't get to cry about this. You just pissed me off severely and then set my damn kitchen on fire; you are not the one who should be crying about this. So suck it up and accept the responsibilty of your actions."

I pursed my lips together harshly in an attempt to stop more sobs from escaping, but it was no use, so I opted to turn around and face the opposite way, instead. How could I not cry when everything I had come to love was slipping away from me?