Letters (A Dark Louis Tomlinson Fanfic)

Chapter 68

A/N: Sorry for long wait!

Thanks for all the votes and comments, I read all of the comments, even if I don't reply all the time :) 

500+ votes and 100+ comments please :) (the new comment thingy is really cool, you can comment on individual parts of the stroy, try it out lmao)

Songs:

Lorde - Team
Avril Lavigne ft. Chad Kroeger - Let Me Go

______

*Trinity's PoV*

My head rested on my hand, gazing undecidedly at the large yellow book in front of me. My fingers flicked through the pages, idly weighing the advantages against the disadvantages. I was conflicted. I was unsure of what to do. Half of me wanted to tell Louis, but the other half was afraid of what would happen if I did. My mother was keeping us apart, but, then again, so would a murder conviction.

I took a deep breath and tried to let my gut decide what to do. Granted, it hadn't made the best decisions in the past, but it was the only solution I could see, and I was open to anything at this point. My eyes flickered closed and I was vaguely aware of my fingers opening the book, brushing against the smooth pages as they estimated the location of the name I was looking for.

I opened my eyes slowly and trailed them down the page in front of me that was littered with countless names and adjacent phone numbers. I looked at the header at the top of the page that told me I was currently browsing through the 'H' section of names. I shook my head and flipped the pages until a large 'W' was displayed in bold print at the top of the page. 

My eyes scanned down the seemingly never-ending list of names until they halted at one, hovering over it cautiously, as if the very words could burn through my irises with the simplest of glances.

'Williams, Kevin.'

I slid my finger across the page to find the corresponding phone number, and found myself subconsciously reaching for the phone, which had been at the ready, beside me. I punched in the numbers carefully, not wanting to make a mistake, and held the phone to my ear. It rang once; twice; three times, and I waited with bated breath to see if it would remain unanswered.

"Hello?" a voice picked up at the end of the line.

Every speech I had planned out suddenly vanished from my mind and my throat became dry. 

"Hello? Is anyone there?" it asked again.

I binked rapidly, searching desperately for any words that would come to surface in my mind.

"Dad?" I whispered.

*****

I pulled my coat tighter as the breeze whipped around me, whisps of hair repeatedly blowing across my face every time I reached up to pull them away. The café came into view and I shuddered at the memories I had from there. It was the same place I had talked with my mother, and anything associated with that woman didn't exactly give me the nicest thoughts.

I climbed the steps and walked through the door, slow steps leading me into the entrance area. I turned my head slowly, tentatively eyeing the seating area. The eight year lack of contact couldn't stop the instant spark of recognition as my eyes met a pair of emerald green ones from across the opposite side of the café. There sat a man with slightly greying hair, hands folded on the table in front of him as he remined motionless, gaze locked on mine. 

His face looked the same as my ten year old mind had allowed me to remember, perhaps with a few more wrinkles etched into his forehead, no doubt from the stress caused by the drawn-out battle he had fought with my mother. His mouth was a tad ajar and his eyes were wide with surprise, at my appearance or the fact that I actually turned up, I wasn't sure, but I was sure I mirrored the very same expression.