Never Forget You {l.s. AU}

7.

Louis*

It was a week later, that I was working on the same place, early in the morning when she came back. A loaf of bread and a carton of milk in her hands. She passed it to me silently and then she said, "I kept thinking of you all night, last night. Your eyes haunted me. They are a very different blue. A beauty honestly." Never had some words made me blush that way. I said, "Well, you are very pretty honestly. My sister could only wish of being this cute. How old are you?" "14!" Came an excited reply.

But then she said, "I have to go now. Bye. Take care. I shall come back tomorrow." And like that she skipped away, across the hill and down there. A free soul. So beautiful and free. But she too like me facing problems of life at such a young age. It made me sad thinking about what would happen if someone were to catch us in such a position. She would be forced to stay away and I would most definitely fade away with her disappearance.

For the past week she came back everyday, an edible in her soft-looking, milky skinned, pale hands. Her curls were pinned with pins and her dress was always loose on her lean body. I was always waiting for her to come back to me the next morning, her dimpled grin adorning her face, the kind of grin that made her beautiful eyes squint and her laugh was so lovely, and her two front teeth were different than the rest, they looked lime baby feet kept perfectly aligned. "Lou!" It was Zain. "Aye! What happened? Are you hurt?" I asked worriedly. I was a worrier to say the least. I was the eldest of them and I had all the rights to know what happened. He just shook his head and said, " Niall. He is sobbing. He won't open the door of the washroom. He was called in the office and he came out crying and then locked himself inside the cubicle." My mind ran to all the bad things that could have happened. I threw away the shovel and ran towards the wash area. The row of cubicles lined and open accept for one, the one in which Niall was. His sobbing heard from outside. I knocked on his door and a small voice replied, "Zee, leave me alone. I don't want to talk. Go away!" I sighed and said, "Ni, its me. Open the door and talk to me. I hate to see you cry and not know why! Please come on." A small sniffle was heard before he opened the door and came out, his face red, eyes puffy and tears on his cheeks.

As soon as he stepped out, he fell into my chest, sobbing into my shirt jacket and fisting it in his clenched hand. His sobs wracked out of him and onto me and he wailed and hit my chest with his free hand. I rubbed his back and tried soothing him. His cries went down and muffled into my chest. I lead him inside our tent and sat him down on my bed. I let him cool down before asking, "What happened? Did someone do something? Who do I have to kill?" I expected a chuckle or a small smile not him collapsing into me, waterworks starting again. I attempted, successfully, quieting him down. He handed me a letter from his jacket pocket, motioning me to read it. I furrowed my brows, taking it from his hands and reading it. It wasn't a letter, it was a telegram. Telegram's never meant good. I dared to open it and read it. My heart broke from what was written, but I had to stay strong for him and not bury us in his sorrows. The telegram was a notification of his parents' death, back in his hometown due to epidemic of tuberculosis. Another notification was saying that his brother is severely injured at the grounds in France., chances of survival, few.

I couldn't put myself in his place and think what he is going through. But I could offer a shoulder to cry and water to drink, some soothing words and calming music, and cuddles too.

So that is what I do that evening, while Zain cuddled with Liam that night, Niall was fast asleep on my chest, my hunger beyond words, overpowered by my worry for Niall, his small whimpers and dry sniffles not unnoticed by any of us.

In this life of peril, these boys were all I had. Comforting them was my main aim till the day I lived. I have already been living with the guilt of seeing those vile men harass my family, and this little kid I had taken to care for. Though I fought as equal with them in these wars, my heart would light with rage if I were to see them ever, but as far as I knew, they weren't from Camp, rather were on war.

My mother was one of the best women on earth. Now this is something only I know, other than my father and I, Liam is not my brother, he was an orphan, my mother found a bundle of cloth on the doors of the little bakery father decided to buy her, it was a small baby, Liam our little Lili, with his brown puppy eyes and similar brown hair, sympathising and innocent with a heart made of gold. We were rich, we were capable of taking in another child, but father had to go away on war and then everything changed. Every few days father would come back, he taught me everything I know. My worrying comes from him, my singing ability, my habit of writing and me burning water also comes from him. Caring for others before myself was also from him. I only hope we don't lose him, because I am not ready to lose anymore of my people. I would definitely die if I wouldn't be able to save them.

My thoughts take a different course when the little milky skinned girl crawled her way inro my mind. Like I said, I was a worrier, not that I would admit that out loud. Does the little girl have a family? Is someone she knows in the army? Is she safe? Are people around her nice? I wouldn't want anything to happen to that little bundle of sunshine, her milky skin untouched from harm, her brown curls saving her chubby cheeks, her nose always be so adorable. Her eyes? What colour is her eyes?

"Louis?" It was the now conscious boy lying on my chest who had spoken up. "Yes, Niall? Do you want something?" "I am kind of hungry. I haven't eaten since last night. I am very hungry." He whispered, interrupting Liam and Zain from their sleep. Liam rubbed his eyes and said with a smile, " Lou, here!" He said softly, revealing two plates overfilled with vegetables, curry and porridge and a bag filled with bread. I laughed silently motioning them over too my side as we both sat up.

I fed all three with my hand and then scolded them for not eating before. They all slept in their respective beds this night and I was left alone and paranoid. My friend, the diary called out to me again. Picking it from the side table, I let my feelings overcome me as I sat outside the tent where the lantern won't disturb anyone, these compact lights were very helpful. But as I went ahead writing in it things I would never admit out loud, I could hear my heart crack in the silence.

That night a new found guilt sat in my chest, eating at my heart. A new found tear track adorning my face. New feelings paving its way into my heart. A new ability to silent my cries sensed out and as I choked on my feeling to barf out my food, I was sickened even more when I let it take over, pushing me to my limits and as I emptied my gut, my guilt too faded, tiring me out enough to make me sleep without waking anyone from the group of people sleeping in the tent room.

I slept an exhausted man.

But, I woke up a worrier.