22nd

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WE'RE NOT DEAD OMFG

trolololol i forgot to read through it oops

- and all i've seen,

since eighteen hours ago,

is green eyes and your freckles and your smile

 22nd December, 2013

Sophie is sitting by the window, staring out at the pale sky, when he wakes. She sees him walk in and smiles briefly, before turning back to the window. Louis watches her sleepily.

"G'morning," He mumbles, yawning.

"Morning."

He stands there in his pyjamas, feeling a little awkward. "Do you... Do you want a cup of tea?" He asks. "I did you get one last night but..."

"I fell asleep." Sophie finishes for him, smiling softly at him. "Sorry. I would love one, thanks." She yawns a little and runs a hand through her short messy hair. Louis realises how tired she looks, how worn out and stressed. Her face is thin, cheekbones so sharp they seem close to slicing through her skin. Her eyes are cold, unblinkingly so. Shards of emerald coated in ice.

It takes a second for him to snap out of his daze, and he shakes himself. Goes to get the tea.

Whilst the kettle boils he leans against the counter, wondering exactly what is going on and how he came to have a suicidal girl sitting in his flat.

"Louis?"

"Hm?" He asks, jumping out of his daze. Sophie stands in the doorway of the kitchen.

"The kettle's boiled."

"Oh." He smiles sheepily. "Yeah."

"Louis?" Sophie asks again, standing beside him while he pours hot water into two mugs, biting her nails nervously. Louis turns towards her, "Yeah?" and fishes a couple of teabags from the tin on the counter.

"Why did you stop me?"

He pauses from where he's opening the fridge door. "What do you mean?"

She rolls her eyes. "I mean, why did you stop me from jumping off the bridge?"

He shrugs, pouring milk carefully into the mug. "I couldn't have you killing yourself. And my Christmas was pretty much already ruined without a dead girl on my conscience."

"So you wouldn't actually have jumped."

Meeting her eyes carefully, Louis hands her the cup of tea. "I never said that."

Sophie looks at him. He can almost feel her sparkling gaze burning into his soul, hear the walls he'd spent so long building up come tumbling down at his feet. It's scaring him, because this is just some girl he stopped from jumping off a bridge, he met her last night, but already she's gotten under his skin in a way no one has in months. And now she's just standing there, and Louis feels like he's going scream or cry or laugh or something. There's all these emotions building up inside his chest, fighting to be heard, but he's afraid if he opens his mouth then he really will tell her everything. So instead he smiles weakly and takes his tea, getting away from her burning gaze before he does something stupid like cry.

"I, uh, do you like, need any clothes? Because I've still got some of Eleanor's stuff somewhere." He asks, staring at the bottom of his mug, eyes prickling with tears.

She watches him with an expression of something that looks like pity.

"Don't - don't feel sorry for me." Louis stumbles over his words. "I'm fine."

Sophie nods. The shiny floor seems to be the point of her focus as she bites her lip. "Yeah. So am I."

They're fine, but they're not.

Not really.

**

"So, you're sure you're alright Lou?"

Louis rolls his eyes at Liam's constant worrying, shifting from where he sits on a stool in the kitchen and swapping the hand that's holding the handset. "Yeah. I'll be fine."

"You're not lonely, though? Cause if you're all alone then I'm sure I could -"

"No, Liam. You're staying right there, you hear me? Your dad needs you."

"But - "

""No buts. Besides, I'm not alone."

"I thought..."

Loius bites his lip. How was he going to explain Sophie? "I, um... I met this girl." He says, leaning against the breakfast bar. "And, well it's kind of a long story but, she's staying at my flat at the moment."

Liam is silent for a few seconds. "Louis...I don't think you should - "

"Look, it'll be fine. I won't get into a trouble or anything, I promise."

"Okay. Just... Be careful, yeah?"

"Yeah. Take care of yourself, Li."

"As long as you do."

"I will. Bye."

"Bye."

Louis tosses the phone to the side, running a hand through his messy hair. Through the doorway he can see Sophie sitting at his sofa, flicking aimlessly through channels on the television. She's been there for about an hour now, watching random things with no purpose. Louis doesn't mind, though. He likes seeing her smile.

It's beautiful.

But he knows that Sophie is broken. He knows that she's not going to be here for long and it's pointless getting close to her. He hasn't forgotten he stopped her from jumping off a bridge, hasn't forgotten she's so far gone that she'd wanted to end it all. And he knows that maybe she's not ready to tell him the reasons why, or prepared to tell him at all.

Louis yawns again, heading back into the living room. Sophie looks up and smiles faintly at him. It's faint, but it's there, and Louis returns it easily. She moves to let him sit next to her and he crosses his legs.

It's a little while later when Sophie speaks up, and he's hoping that this isn't heading where he thinks it is.

"You said you would have jumped."

"Maybe," He says, but it comes out quieter and hoarser than intended.

"Why?" She whispers.

He closes his eyes briefly. There's this weird feeling in his chest and he doesn't like it, it's too strong, too much after going for months trying hard not to feel anything. "I guess I'm just tired, really." He says. "Tired of the media making up shit about me, tired of screaming girls, tired of working with people who hate me."

"Tired of being alone." Sophie whispers, and Louis finds himself nodding as they both look out at the white washed city. He takes her hand quietly before either of them says anything more.

Sophie looks down. "We seem to be making a habit of this." She says weakly.

Louis shrugs. "I don't mind."

"Neither do I." 

And then he snakes an arm around her skinny shoulders, and they sit curled up together on the sofa, watching soft flakes of snow fall.

So maybe they'll stay there in each other's arms, ignoring the fact that both of them are furiously blinking back tears. Pretend that they're not falling apart. They'll keep close, and wish for a better future. Louis might lie awake for hours at night, staring at the ceiling. Sophie will wake up shaking and twisted in sheets, stuffing her fists into her mouth to keep from crying out. And though it hurts, they'll take deep breaths, close their eyes, and smile.

They're walking on eggshells, cautious, because neither thinks their heart could withstand another breaking.

Yet it's better than being alone.

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