Louis stared out the open door, watching Harry as he ran farther and farther away. Louis reached his hand slowly to the welt that was beginning to form on his face. He pressed it slightly, and the pain levels shot up. He looked at his feet, fearing the worst. His hand dropped to his side, and he fell to his knees. They hit the hard wooden floor as Louis put his face in his hands and sobbed. He screamed out apologies and regrets for what he'd done to the younger Cheshire boy, but he knew that Harry wouldn't hear him. Harry would never hear him. Not after what Louis had done to him. He shook his head, trying to get rid of the bad feelings sweeping over him. Then he realized something.
Something he hadn't realized in the two years they've known each other.
He needed Harry.
He needed Harry more than he ever knew.
And Harry was gone.
Louis stood up shakily and he walked to the kitchen. He paced back and forth, then something that reflected in the moonlight caught his eyes. The rack of knives. Before he knew what he was doing, he was pacing around the kitchen again, this time with a small knife that he tossed back and forth between his hands. After what felt like hours of walking slowly, back and forth across that kitchen, he stopped. He looked at the small kitchen knife he held in his hands. He sat down Indian style and he pressed the blade against the palm of his hand. Nothing happened. So he began to rub it back and forth. He could feel his skin breaking, and he felt his warm blood, his own blood, begin the seep out of the wound.
Drip.
Drip.
The blood began to drip off the sides. His body was telling him to get the blade away, but it only made Louis press harder. Only when the blade felt like it was being heated red hot did Louis finally pull it away. His hand was burning at the edges of the wound, and ice cold through his fingertips. Only then did he realize that he was screaming out in pain. He brought his bleeding hand to his chest and he hunched over it protectively, and he began to whisper things.
"This is all my fault."
"I'm the worst friend."
"I can't believe myself"
Then Louis' gaze shifted back to the bloody knife on the floor. He felt his hand moving towards it. Soon enough, his fingers brushed the handle, and he grabbed the knife. He put the edge of it against the base of his throat, and he felt tears slide down his cheeks. He lowered the blade. "Come on, Louis." He scolded himself. "Harry's gone, you have no reason to live anymore."
He pressed it against his throat again, higher up, and he pressed down. He felt blood dripping down his neck. He took a deep breath and he pressed harder. He pressed harder and harder until finally he couldn't feel anything anymore. He pulled the knife out of his neck and blood splashed onto the ground. He coughed a few times, feeling blood begin to trickle from the side of his mouth. He coughed again weakly, and he found it getting harder and harder to breathe. His mind was telling him to keep breathing, no matter what happened, just keep breathing. Bute he just felt like he couldn't. He couldn't do it.
Then he heard the door click shut, and he heard footsteps coming rapidly towards him. Louis was now gasping for breath. Blood was filling his lungs and he wanted to give up even trying to breathe altogether.
"WHO THE HELL DID THIS TO YOU?!?!?!" Louis heard a familiar voice scream. Louis opened his eyes and saw a boy with curly brown hair, and green eyes that were full of anger and concern. Harry knelt down next to Louis and Harry put his hand on Louis' neck wound. When Harry pulled it away it was covered in blood. Louis saw tears building up in Harry's eyes. "Pools of moonlit ocean, darkened by the night." Louis had said just hours before. Before the fight.
Louis looked into Harry's eyes and simply said, "I'm sorry." Then Louis closed his eyes. Harry expected the worst. "Lou....open your eyes for me." Harry whispered, his voice breaking. Louis' eyes fluttered open one more time and Louis said three simple words that changed Harry's life forever.
"I love you."
Then he closed his eyes again, and his breathing got shallower until it stopped altogether. Harry began to sob as he put his face in his hands.
"But I love you, too." Harry whispered, only loud enough that Louis would be able to hear. But Louis wouldn't hear. He would never hear those words gently spoken to him ever. Harry looked down and realized than he was kneeling in a bloodbath. Then he looked at Louis' cold, pale face and he saw something. He saw a smile on his lips. Harry smiled for a half second, then he continued to sob. He pressed his lips against his fingertips, then he pressed his fingers onto Louis' lips and he slowly stood up, calling the police, turning around, walking away. That's when Harry realized with a sickening twist through his stomach that he would never see Louis again.
