the emptiness :: l.s.

Part Eight: Dead Boys Don't Just Appear Out Of Thin Air

It seems I am in a sudden shock and the man before me was not Louis, but an imposter. A man that stole his beauty. But other than that moment, all I can remember is waking up in an unfamiliar bed and an even more unfamiliar home and room, only left with a note to read that I must come down stairs for a meal.

I have a deep hope to see Louis as I shuffle down the staircase, though I understand I will not see Louis, but the man that has his face.

My head hurts from tangled thoughts and events as my heart does the same, as well as pounding against my ribcage, practically breaking it and cracking the bones that holds it in place, allowing me to live and breathe.

Thoughts push to the back of my mind, out of reach, as I round the corner, finding myself in front of the spitting image of my Louis. I wouldn't be able to find a single difference against his face from my beloved, even if I stared at him for hours, but my heart and mind still knew the horrid truth.

He sits me down at his dining room table and allows me to eat the meal he conveniently prepared for me and I have just realized I haven't eaten in days. We didn't talk, until we finished and sat me down on the couch.

And the minute he spoke, all I heard was Louis' happiness, as if he was the one who had stolen it. He was the reason why Louis' real whispers were so monotoned and dead.

But he also helped me. Healed me. He convinced me to tell him why he found me with a knife to my throat as if I was going to take my own life, which was something I was planning on doing. And I did as he asked, just like I would do with the genuine. But he didn't judge. It almost felt like a message of forgiveness from Louis' dead body, his dead soul.

He listened all the way through my depressing speech and even apologized for my faults.

He had also asked me if I believe in love at first sight and I simply replied with an easy yes. But it wasn't just a yes. It was more than that.

I know that the second Louis had bumped into me, it was a sign of something, wether it had been true love or true friendship, it was a sign.

It was absolutely love at first sight.

And the entire conversation, I contained a struggle of avoiding the kiss I craved to give this man, this being because if I had, it would not have felt like Louis' lush-full lips and I only want Louis, not a soul that has his characteristics and looks.

I want the real him.

I've always wanted the real him.

I've always wanted him.