Forbidden {L.S.}

Thirty-Eight

“Do you want me to come?” He asked and I shrugged. I stared at the headstones that seemed to go on for miles.

“You don't have to,” I answered back.

“That's not what I asked. Do you want me to come?”

I closed my eyes and nodded again. I heard his door open, so I reached for mine and stepped out. He linked fingers with me as we walked. I lead the way, using headstones that stood out to help me remember where she was.

I need to start coming more, I scolded myself, biting my lip. 

I got to the grave- her grave- Louis’ hand moving to my back. I don't know why, but the thought of him pushing me towards the grave filled my mind, but I shook my head. He wouldn't.

“Do whatever you need to,” Louis whispered when I kept staring at her name. “I'm right here, alright?”

I nodded numbly and took a step forward. I tried not to cry again, but I hadn't been here since the funeral. I knew I needed to come, but I finally managed to lock it away. I didn’t have to think about it, then Taylor had to go and ruin it all.

“I'm sorry,” I whispered. “I know I should come by more.” I paused, taking a deep breath, collecting my thoughts. “It's so different not having you around now. Nothing's the same. I miss you.” I paused, taking a deep breath. “You got accepted to Harvard just like you were hoping. Mom threw the letter away as soon as it came in, but I had to check it, just for you. You were hoping so badly you'd get in and you did. You did it. I know you would have been so excited, even though I would have been sad, thinking about you moving away like that.

“Our parents though, they're not the same. Not even close.” I brushed my fingers over her name, tracing it slowly. “They can't stand each other now. I don't know what happened. It's gotten to the point I never even want to be home.” I kept explaining what was going on, crying the whole time. I didn’t know how I was able to do it. I just kept talking and talking, changing topic randomly and without reason.

Louis sat down beside me, taking my hand. I looked over at him and he smiled sadly. “Is it okay if I sit with you?” I nodded my head, leaning it on his shoulders once I moved close enough to him that our knees overlapped. “You don’t have to stop talking unless you want to.”

“I'm not crazy for doing this am I?” I asked quietly. “We were just close. So close and not having her here now, especially now… I don't know what else to do.”

“No baby. This is natural. Everyone needs some way to cope with things, especially when it's something like this.” Louis kissed my head, moving his arm around my waist. “Everyone talks.”

“Gem would have been the only one I told about us. She would have known about you the first day of school. I don't know what she would have said, but she wouldn't have been against it once she saw how happy I was.” I stared at the small picture of her that my mom insisted putting on her headstone. The one I had been purposefully avoiding since we got here. “The picture,” I said, leaning forward to point it out to him, “It was her first homecoming, and she said that was her favorite picture out of every one she ever had taken. It's the first time I've seen a picture of her since…” my voice broke. Louis’ hand stayed around my waist, even when I leaned forward and I was grateful because I fell back into him, sobbing.

“Its okay, Harry,” he whispered while rubbing my back. “Just let it out, baby.”

“I could have changed what happened,” I cried out into him. “If I just would have went to the damn store with her-”

“Don't do that to yourself,” Louis said, his voice breaking. He pulled me back so I could look at him, his eyes wet. “I don't even want to say this, but you can't change it. As much as I honestly hate to say this, you can't change a damn thing about that day.”

I moved so that I was sitting in his lap, one leg on either side of him. I held him tightly, probably to the point it hurt, but I was crying so hard. He was right. I couldn't change it, but that didn't mean I didn't wish I could change it still. She was my best friend. We told each other everything. 

“I miss her so much,” I cried into his shoulder. 

“I know. I'm so sorry I can't do anything,” Louis whispered.

After I don't even know how long of crying, we eventually left. I promised myself I would come back at least once a month. Although it hurts to remember she's gone, it feels so much better that I can just spill everything to her. Whether she can respond or not, it feels better.