Photograph (Larry Stylinson AU) ~COMPLETED~

I'm Half a Heart Without..

The first few days have been a complete mess of me raging and sobbing, yelling, and begging for my Louis to come back. Without Louis with me, without my husband, my love of almost five and a half years, I don't know what to do with myself.. He's gone.

I never thought this would happen. I'd always picture myself dying before Louis.. We both did. Louis and both knew that I would not be able to handle him dying. And we were right. All I've done the past few days was whine, cry, I haven't eaten much, but I quickly learned that I need food so I've gotten back into the habit of eating. I've been in bed all day, only getting up to eat or use the washroom, but I'd just lay there in my dark room, not wanting to talk to anyone.

I miss him so goddamn much. I wanted to sue that man, but I couldn't track down who he was.. I'll find him someday, and when I do, I'll shove him off of a fucking cliff. Not a bridge, a cliff. Or Mount Everest.. Or maybe I should toss him out of a plane and send a bomb after him.. Or maybe, I'll kick him into an active volcano. Then send a plane, a bomb, a shark, a poisonous snake, and a friggen chain saw in there after him. Perfect.

Louis is perfect. Was..

I pull the blankets over my head and hide myself in the endless sea called my bed. I hear my phone ringing in the distance, but I don't look up to see who's calling. I also haven't been answering my texts, calls, e-mails, nothing. I don't want to talk to anyone unless they're my Louis. But I know that's not going to happen, so what's the point of checking?.. Do you think I could drown in my bed? I think I could.

I take a deep breath and hold it in, not wanting to let it out. About 20 seconds pass until I release the trapped air and quickly bring my hands up to cover my eyes, a loud sob soon echoing in the room. I hate this. I hate this so much, I just want my husband back.

I want those pretty blue eyes, that cheeky smile, his little button nose and his hands that fit so perfectly in mine.. I want his fucking hot ass, his tiny back dimples, his messy feathery hair and his thin pink lips. I just want to hold him in my arms, carry him around like my little baby and kiss all over his face when he's sad. I want to wipe his tears away, kiss his knuckles, and tell him that everything will be alright. But I can't.. I can't even say his name anymore.

***

It's been two months. Hardly anything has changed, except I'm out of bed and doing my job again. I sing my parts quietly when we're doing concerts, Zayn usually takes over for me. In interviews, I answer with a nod, shake my head, or say one or two words. The boys didn't handle it well for the first week or so, but they're mostly okay now. They're back to smiling, laughing and joking around with each other. I'm the same, except I don't smile, I don't laugh, and I don't joke around. I just sit there like a stone.

People still don't know about Louis and I. I promised him I'd tell everyone the night he.. No. I broke that promise and it made me feel so guilty. Everyone thinks I just have depression problems or something, but I don't. I am not depressed. I'm heartbroken.

Every time an interviewer asks us a funny question, I can just picture Louis coming back with a rude answer and it makes me smile a little. Then they'd ask me what I'm smiling about and I'd open my mouth to speak. But nothing ever comes out, so I just end us shaking my head, as if to say, never mind.

***

Four months have gone by. I've thought a lot about everything that went on the past while. It still seems like yesterday, Louis and I were cuddled up downstairs on the couch, watching films and making out all day.. I miss that. I miss him.

But it's been really strange as well.. The lads are always whispering about me, I hear them. They think that I don't hear them, but I hear bits and it's.. I don't know what to think of it. I hear 'Harry's not getting any better' and 'Harry's coming, shh.' things like that. I know they love me and all, but I still kinda feel like they're talking behind my back.. I think they're planning on kicking me out of the band. And before you argue, there's a good reason to.