all we can do is keep breathing || larry s.

eleven.

held together just enough to function.

||☤||

Louis hasn't been up here in years, for he dared not venture where his own doomed ghosts roam freely, where tormenting memories lurk and linger in the very air, hiding under every rock, prowling behind every tree. Instead he's spent the last nine years pretending that this old pathway, his feet find achingly familiar, doesn't exist, that its winding dirt trail doesn't lead anywhere of significance and it was all a figment of his tortured imagination. But the closer they get to the top, the more Louis realizes that is so very far from the truth, as an unceasing stream of memories from the many journeys up here flood his mind.

And it's almost like he can see them, the phantom shadows of their younger selves looming along the forest floor that leads up to their once treasured meadow.

Louis looks to the right and all he can see is the two of them taking Benny on long walks that so very often turned into unexpected runs, Harry always tripping over the exact same stump in the narrow road without fail, no matter how many times Louis warned him about it.

ghosts.

He tears his gaze away, reframing his mind only to see reminders of him and Harry lying flat on their backs on the soft grass, echoes of the morning light peeking through the clouds as they would talk for hours upon hours at a time, somehow never bored of all the nothing they were doing.

more ghosts.

Louis closes his eyes against his own haunted reframe, but it doesn't stop the memories from leaking through. He opens them to see eerie figures of himself reading to Harry, resting his head against his chest until Harry would find some reason to interrupt him. Only ever interested in discovering new ways to get Louis to laugh, saying the most ridiculous and absurd things until Louis couldn't possibly hold it in any longer. They'd always end up gasping for air among their shared laughter, finding a rare happiness in each other's eyes.

ghosts, everywhere i look, ghosts appear

Of all the things he could have possibly agreed to, Louis can't believe that he even entertained the idea of this impromptu adventure to his own personal hell. What on earth possessed him to say yes to coming up here again? It's midnight, it's fucking freezing, and everything about this place only reminds him, in the cruelest of ways, what it felt like to fall in love.

Louis shakes his head, attempting yet again to rid himself of the memories, at least somewhat. He stuffs his hands down into the pockets of his hoodie and instead focuses his attention on the pace of his feet next to Harry's. Their synched footsteps trudge along the muddy trail, climbing through the meandering woods in oddly comfortable silence until they reach the distant, but altogether familiar clearing.

The earlier rain has stopped and the night sky is clear and crisp with a steady breeze. It's just as beautiful as it ever was, the skyline stretching out infinitely all around them. Stars gleam and dance brightly up above, uninhibited by the faint illumination of the distant city lights. And the dewy grass of the rolling meadow glistens under the glow of the moon.

"Wow..." Harry breathes out after several beats of silent awe. "It hasn't changed a bit in all these years..."

Louis nods slowly in agreement, sighing a little at the breathtaking view. And despite his raw feelings of despondency towards the past, there's something still so overpowering and almost magical about this place that compels Louis to want to forget all his problems on the spot. "Incredible."

Harry crosses his arms over his own chest and turns slightly to throw Louis a small crooked smile. "Seattle's best keep secret."

Louis grins reminiscently, gaze falling down to his muddied shoes. "Yeah..."