Raelyn's world is black and white. Shades of gray and dark shadows lurking in her dreams. She only ever sees the color blue. Blue in the eyes of her sick little brother. Blue in her own eyes staring back at her from the mirror. Blue in the sadness o...
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Louis has never seen so many baked goods in one place outside of a bakery, but this, this takes the cake; no pun intended. All the space on the kitchen counters are occupied by varieties of different cupcakes, biscuits, and Louis swears that's a tiramisu cake. There's flour sprinkled on the stove and floor, a couple of spear chocolate chips by the mixer and yeah, that's an blackberry pie, sitting by the sink. It could feed their whole tour crew.
He's also never seen Rae drunk before; ever. Her eyes have this shiny tint to them, if a little clouded over. This is anything but giddy tipsy, or pissed, he's not quite sure how much she's had to drink already before they got there. He was informed by Kari, who had gotten his number out of Rae's phone once it was charged, that she had taken away a half empty bottle of red wine, and an empty 375ml bottle of Jameson. Louis didn't even notice what is probably the same wine bottle in her hand, lips tinted from the colour. She sways a little on the spot, wobbling next to Zayn, pointing to the desserts on the counter.
"I baked." Rae announces unnecessarily.
She sways again, this time stumbling a little into Zayn, who's quick to catch her around the waist with one arm. Without her seeing, Zayns hands his own unopened bottle of wine to Liam, motioning for him to get it out of the house. He steadies her on her feet, shooting a panicked look over Louis' way. He comes to help, confiscating the nearly empty bottle from her loose grip. Rae leaves Zayn's hold and opts for Louis instead, blinking like she's memorizing him in detail.
"Hi, love." Louis greets her softly, wrapping his arms around her waist in case she stumbles again.
Rae brings her hand up to his face, fingertips grazing under his eye and trailing to his cheekbone. Her touch leaves goosepimples along the way and a shiver down his spine. She traces along his jaw, over the light stubble growing there, over to his lip, then back to his eye.
"Don't cry." She's whispering, wine scented breath ghosting over his lips. "I can't cry. So you don't cry."
Louis is a bloody idiot. It all makes sense now; the baking, stress baking, the bottles of alcohol, her utter exhaustion. Raelyn physically can not cry, can't show a form of grief by shedding tears, and even though he spent two hours trying to coax her through her panic attack, he had idiotically forgotten that fact. He doesn't doubt that his own eyes are probably a little bloodshot from his own tears. There's a pressing need to check beneath her shirt now. Has to see the damage done to her skin, but when Louis tries to gently pull down the collar of her shirt, Rae detaches herself.
She's frantically shaking her head, hair falling out from the messy braid it's in. She stops then, possibly from the vertigo she just gave herself and presses her right hand into her chest. She's not digging, or clutching, but just firmly pressing down. The room's been quiet since she commanded Louis not to cry, all watching her carefully to see what she'll do next. The next several moments passes in tense silence, but all she does is stand there staring at him.
