London [Louis Tomlinson]

2: Cigarettes

A/N: I'm so sorry for taking so long. School was being stupid and it got in the way and ugh.

So the song is kind of from Louis' point of view, and I listened to it a lot when I wrote the chapter.

The picture looks so much like Louis and Jess that I'm crying omg

Enjoy!

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I think that was the moment when I truly realised how alone I was in the world. Standing at a bustling train station in an unfamiliar city, home to millions of strangers, with nothing but myself and my weathered suitcase, I realised that that was all I really had; myself.

            Surrounding me was heavy morning commute, mixed with train timetables and rush and the desire to keep moving amongst the busy crowd.  But all I could do was stand there obtrusively, right in everybody’s way, searching the chaos for some sort of indication of where I was supposed to go next. Everything confused me, and I found myself wishing I was back home, where if I ever got lost my mother was just a phone call away, ready to help.

            There weren’t many here I could call, and the people dashing past me all appeared too focused on themselves to offer a minute of their time to point me in the right direction. I scanned the station for a help desk or an information map or something, but all I saw was windows and an arched roof and nothing in any form useful.

            I think if I had of walked a few extra metres or so I would’ve caught sight of an information desk or an official, but of course I didn’t use my rationality in that moment; I just went with my gut.

            I withdrawed my phone from my coat pocket and thumbed open my contacts, scrolling down the list. I stopped at a familiar name, the one I hadn’t seemed to expel from my head the past few days, and tapped ‘call’.

            Holding the phone by my ear, I anxiously chewed on my lip, watching a horde of people rush by and wondering if I’d made the right decision. After three seconds of beeping and silence, a cracked voice sounded through the phone. It was like a jolt to my spine, his voice, and it made me scared; scared of what he’d think of me calling him when he was oh so busy with his brand new schedule.

            “Hello? Who’s this?”

            My name hadn’t flashed up on his phone when I’d rung, which could only mean that he’d deleted me as a contact. I should’ve seen it coming. With his new and exciting life he’d obviously wanted to block out all reminders of his past one.

            “It’s, um— It’s Jess.” I stammered, confidence reaching an all-time low at the news that he’d already made a start on forgetting about me and our relationship.

            “Jess? As in X-Factor stylist Jess or, uh, high school Jess?” he asked, and I grew angry at the name he’d allocated me; high school Jess. I was more than that.

            “You don’t remember the sound of my voice?” I pressed, furrowing my brow and trying not to raise the volume of my voice past the acceptable limit when in public.

            “Of course I do, babe,” he admitted, voice turning slow and pained, as if to demonstrate that he’d dropped the act. “I knew it was you, I just…”

            “You what?” I snapped, sitting down on a nearby bench and using my free hand to wheel my suitcase beside me.

            “I— I’m sorry, okay? If I could have it my way, we’d still be together. But we can’t, and it’s complicated and I’m not sure how to explain it—“ he blurted out suddenly, and I found myself struggling to keep up with his words.