hotfoot - tomlinson

chapter seven

chapter seven

louis

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I AM NOT HAPPY. I know I should be, but I am not. I am soaking wet, freezing, I smell like sweat, and I was driving through hell only moments before. And trust me, I know what the devil looks like now. It's a tiny little three wheeled car with a bigger attitude than my own.

My mood changes when warm water hits my back. It's probably the last time I'll feel this for the week. My stomach is about to cave in on itself, a hungry pit with unstable walls willowing down to mush. My head is pulsing around me, so strong it feels like I'm nodding forward and back.

I swallow, in taking the smell of a variety of shampoos. Hotel shampoos, all in tiny packages. They're the kind my mum would put in her purse before we left our hotel room, actually. I never liked them as much as I did now, because I actually needed one desperately.

I stand there, soaking in the warmth coming from the hot water until I realize my supply of heat is at a minimum. Once I get out, the water has chilled down, wrapping a towel around my waist. I'm the last of us to take a shower. I waited, letting off steam for as long as I could. By now, everyone is most likely asleep.

I pull my clothes on, the motions ragged and drained of life from the overworked shower. I return to the room, where everyone is, indeed, asleep, except for poor Ethel.

I yelled at her. It was just this sudden source of anger from everything. I didn't really expect it when it came, but it happened right after the rickshaw broke down. Bluntly, I told her to just leave me alone. More or less, I said, "Fuck off."

I tried not to meet her eye, crouching by the mini-fridge to eat something. Her stare is focused above my head, beaten and mad, defeated. Something tight is caught in my chest, a familiar feeling. Her face. She's giving me the same look I would give Beatrice.

The fridge is left open, my footsteps turning to over to her. My weight falls beside her, the delicate frame beside mine shifting uncomfortably. I hang my head low, almost as low as hers. I try to catch her look, but she does not falter to look at me.

"You okay?" I ask her, my hand clinging on to her, fingers melting into her shoulder. "Ethel?" I whisper, my head dipping forward so she'll see me. She sees me, and she doesn't stop.

"Why wouldn't I be okay? Louis, your an idiot. You think I'm mad at you?"

I laugh at that.

"It's not funny, either. Lou', you scared me."

I shut up this time, her tone switching to a low, bitter remark. She turns away from me, laying down with her back a guard from any more conversation to me. I stare at my feet, which are more of a white shadow blurred in the black, empty light.

"Ethel, I'm sorry."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Fantastic, now I'll just pretend you didn't just completely snap at me a half an hour ago."

I can hear it, that whimper in her voice. It's been mine before, speaking to Beatrice. Now, that's just not okay. I don't want to be Beatrice. I don't want to scare Ethel away. But, I am. I scare her. I feel hollow, the cramps of hunger numb in my stomach, more of a lone feeling taking over my body, emptying my flesh.

I grab something from the half-lit refrigerator - a cereal bar. I climb back over to the bed, instead of wandering on the edge I lay on it, close to Ethel. She doesn't move, pretending to sleep.

"But Ethel, I'm still your friend, right?"

She stays silent, not moving. Something horrible washes over me with her silence, crumbling up the wrapper as I chew the bar quietly.

"Right?" I repeat, swallowing once - the granola bar, then twice - to stop from crying out. It's a stupid thing, I know. I was mean, she won't forgive me. I don't blame her, but I know she's still my friend. I just need that reassurance now and then.

Especially now, because of what I've done.

I knead down into her, molding around her shape. Before she can even think of moving away, my arms blanket around her, my fingers collapsing against each other. I am holding on tight, afraid to let go.

"Right, Louis." She breathes out finally. I only feel worse though, letting go of her. I turn over quickly. Getting out of the bed. I fall back on to the small couch, covering my face into the cushions.

"Louis, stop. It's okay." She whispers from across the room. I don't budge this time, squeezing my eyes shut. I hear footsteps, then her fingers wrap around my arm, tugging me over. I look up, eyes half closed.

"It's okay, alright? C'mon." I am being pulled up, and I let myself be pulled over back to the bed. "It was a silly thing, Louis. Nothing to fret about, I promise." We lay in bed, this time her arms around me.

But I do fret, that's the thing. I don't know what it is, but I cannot stand being alone. No, actually, I cannot stand being without Ethel. I don't care if she's just my friend later on or we don't work out, I just want to see her everyday, and know that I'm not alone in this world without her.

I slowly slipping into sleep, a horrible feeling in my chest. I fear that I am becoming this mechanical monster that seeks love, I'm afraid of becoming Beatrice. But, someone stops me. Ethel. She's the only one who has ground me down in this situation, who has kept me down from tipping over.

And I am just so afraid of losing her, and what she changes in me.

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ughhh whatttttttt louissssssss