Final Chapter!!
"Hey Lou, pass me a beer?" Zayn lounged on the couch, arm along the back behind Liam’s tense form. The broader boy, along with Niall, was leaning forward intently, eyes on the football match currently decorating the telly. Louis moved mechanically, eyes toward the telly, but unfocused. He really couldn’t find it in himself to care about the match, or to care enough to try and focus his attention on anything other than the massive headache that had been pounding in his head for the past week. It felt like an overwhelming pressure building and building, but he had no idea what would make it go away. Well, maybe he did, but he wasn’t ready to do it just yet.
Louis had stopped talking. Stopped talking /to/ people at least. The only time he talked was to himself, in mumbled breaths and whispers, tugging at his fingers and avoiding Harry at all costs. He smiled with the other boys, tried to laugh, but he was Louis and he wasn’t talking and that was just plain strange. To the boys’ credit, they didn’t mention it, reserving their skeptisism to sidelong glances and worried brows.
Harry tended to ignore him most of the time, including now. He was on the other side of the room, tapping roughly on his phone and not paying much attention to the match either. The only time the younger boy gave any of his attention to Louis was when Harry took him again, and again, despite his silence. Once a night a silent fuck that made him speak while it lasted, before Louis slipped back into himself, eyes to the floor and tough tears gathering in the corners of his eyes.
Louis stood. Unable to cope with the pounding in his head that resembled the beat of Harry’s heart and the heavy bass of his voice. It was a steady rhythm that hadn’t gone away, not even when he slept, if he slept.
Walking to the kitchen, he wondered idly if it was normal for a person to feel like this about another person. This overwhelming sadness and suffocating burning in his chest and lungs and on his skin. He figured it wasn’t.
The air was less thick in here, a window cracked above the sink, letting in a soft breeze and causing the napkins on the counter to flutter slightly. Louis picked them up and opened the top cupboard, placing them on the shelf and closing the door softly.
"Game seems to be heating up."
Louis nearly yelped as Zayn’s face appeared where the cupboard door had just been, his easy voice sliding through the quiet air, cutting through the light static of the game from the other room. The oldest boy forced his lips up in a tight smile and nodded.
"Not really interesting, though, is it?" Zayn asked. His voice was like it always was, smooth and seemingly unperturbed by everything going on around him, but Louis caught a glimpse in his eye as he looked away, a glimpse that told him he wasn’t just talking about the match. Louis shrugged.
"I just wish Liam wasn’t so glued to the telly, I’d probably take off with him, do something more fun. Wouldn’t blame you if you did a runner just now." Zayn cocked a lazy eyebrow and pushed off the counter, wrapping his hand around a brown, glass bottle of beer and heading back out to the living room.
Louis blinked. Do a runner?
He didn’t think; his feet moved him out of the kitchen and down the hall, hands grabbing keys and jacket and opening the door. The air outside had chilled considerably as the sun set below the horizon and the wind whistled through the cracks between the buildings, towering high above him. He shivered. The warmth of his car was welcomed, though it did little to increase the temperature in any form but physical, and even that was debatable.
The night air shuddered as the car roared to life and he tore out of the park, heading north.
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