About time

Chapter 5

"Savannah?" I heard a raspy voice coming through the wooden door, before knocking on it twice.

"Go a-away.." I shouted in between sniffling and trying not to let the salt water fall down my face too much.

"We didn't mean to laugh at you.. What happened?" He spoke again, still wanting to come in through the door, I had no idea why, because he would just see a puffy red faced girl, crying half naked.

I threw on the clothes I forgot I brought down with me and looked into the tiny mirror, taking the unexpected chance to reduce the appearance of puffiness and tear stains, before I came face to face with one of the boys.

It was one of those awful mirrors.

The ones that made you look bad from every angle because they just did.

I have no idea why, but it was one of the mirrors that made you feel so much more self conscious. And it certainly knew how to do it's job.

I brushed my tangled hair with a black hairbrush left by the sink, just to make it look puffy and probably even more tangled.

I splashed water onto my puffy face, only to realise that it just made me look like I had just participated in a marathon.

Well, bring on social suicide.

I opened the door, to see a handsome Louis staring at me weakly. Probably noticing that I look like I've just been dragged through, another, ugly convention.

"Are you okay?" He spoke quietly before I turned off the bathroom lights and shut the door behind me.

"Yeah.. Im fine" I smiled weakly staring down at my feet, hoping that he wouldn't notice the tears starting to fall down my puffy face again.

He suddenly lifted up my chin with his finger and looked into my glazed eyes.

His eyes where bright blue, one of the oceans I would happily sail a small boat through, until I would eventually get pulled down by the roaring waves, only to find out that on the seabed, are thousands of oyster shells, which have been left there for millions of years, where all his secrets have laid. But once my lifeless soul would crack one open, a pearl would be revealed.

Come on Savannah, not a time to be writing poetry.

He must of noticed I'd been staring, because he was smiling at my dazed face.

"Savannah," he said softly whilst wiping the falling tears away from my red hot cheek.

"When a girl says that she's fine, she's most certainly not. When she's standing there, crying, and she says that she's fine, she's strong. Not weak, but strong. Because if you were weak, you wouldn't be crying, you would of already given up, and to you, there would be no reason to cry, and you would hide the tears away. But I know that you are strong enough to admit that you feel weak. Tell me whats really wrong"

I hugged him.

How couldn't I?

It was the most sense I had heard in the past couple of weeks.

I wrapped my arms around his toned body, and cried into his shoulder.

For now, he was the only one I could trust.

He hugged me back, sending shivers down my spine and giving me so much warmth, enough to stop the crying. It had become embarrassing at this point. What was I? Five?

"Please savannah" he whispered softly in my ear before I unraveled myself from his arms and again looked into his eyes full of untold stories.

"Can I tell you somewhere else? Perhaps less public?"