the emptiness :: l.s.

Part Five: I Immerse Myself In Sick Reflection

My eyes don't open until I feel his lips part against my ear, a small smile forming against it. "Morning, love." I hear him say.

I cannot aid myself but to grin back, my nose exhaling softly. "Hello." I say once my receptors capture the beautfiul image before me, his fingertips glazing my skin with a sweet coat of chills as they run up and down my arms and thighs.

He plants a kiss to my cheek, traveling it to my lips, almost catching me by surprise, but I soon kiss him back, shuffling my hands through his knotted hair, from sleep, and other things, smirking as he pushes against my fingers. He pokes my nose, pecking it as well, once we consent eachother to breathe. "I love you."

"I love you, as well, lovely."

~*~

I don't know whom I saw at the pub, but I, honestly, don't have a care for it. It hasn't exactly crossed my mind, until this very moment. That reason being, thoughts of Louis still lingered upon my mind, clenching onto my brain, that was already having a migraine. And now that Louis is stuck to my brain like a leach, sucking out the blood from it, I can't help but think about how alive I actually feel. This feeling that has taken over, this thought of the things I have done. I am pretty sure that killing, both Louis and those seven pathetic souls, were the best damn actions I have ever made. And as I slam my glass harshly against the wooden counter, I find myself glancing at the mirror once more, as before, and see the quick flash of a person that has the frightening and stunning resemblance to my Louis. My feet hit the flooring, a loud thud following, but I only see my own disgusting reflection. Sweat and blood covering my button up. 

I inhale a heavy amount of oxygen, a lump forming in my throat as it bubbled against my Adam's apple. My eyes wander about the room, lifeless bodies splayed out against it and I see a man with a clean jacket, a dead man, might I add. I strip him of his tee and jacket, coating them atop of my torso and arms, trying to hide the crimson stains that will be with me forever, in my mind. I don't allow myself to hurry, as I search through the seven's wallets, ridding them of their money. It's not as if they need it. They are dead.

I then open the pub doors, my boot covered toes steadying against the sidewalk and a tall man with pushed back hair waved at me, smiling. I don't think he even knows he has just grinned at a cold-blooded killer. But I wave back, with the force of a smile, because right now, that's just all I want to do, smile. I feel so happy, alive, renewed. This is the start of something new.

As I keep walking, I bump into Zayn. My eyes widen and he directly grimaces towards my stern position. "Hey, Harry."

He doesn't know. He really doesn't, and he can't. My heart races faster than it was when I was in the pub, but this time it's so full of unhappiness. Just watching one of my best friends gawping at me as if I'm an innocent soul, just as I was before. And the murderous feeling comes back. Here I am. Zayn is practically like a brother and, still, I want to pull the blade from my pocket and penetrate his stomach with it until he has finally bled out, even here in public where everyone can watch. But I keep my cool, knowing I can't. What's wrong with me? What have I become?

"Harry, are you okay?" he chuckles, tilting his head, as well as dribbling his hand in front of my face.

And that's the moment I realize that I have been staring at him. I clear my lodged throat, nodding. "I'm fine. Yeah. Um, I have to go."

So I continued walking, leaving a confused Zayn behind. And as that happens, I notice that everybody here has not even the smallest clue of what I have done. No one. Am I ashamed, though? Guilty? Sad for the pathetic lives I have taken? Not the slightest. In fact, I am proud of what I did. To get away with it, and everything. I deserve a reward. If not, a trophy.

My legs toddle down the pavement once as before and the building windows capture such a horrid image, causing my movements to hault. Could it be? Could this be a dream, after all? Is this really only a retched nightmare? Could it actually be my Louis? Though my thoughts are against him, I still need him.

It seems I'm going crazy without you, Louis.

I'm going crazy without you.