Glitter And Dust [L.S]

𝑲𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔

CHAPTER THREE / KINDNESS.

[ Louis' POV ]
Doncaster.

When I walked into my flat, expecting Emily having dinner ready, I was surprised to find her sitting in the middle of the living room instead, with all the lights out, weird music and some candles and incense lightened up.

"What the fuck are you doing?" - I asked, throwing my keys to the little table by the door.

"Meditating, bitch. Isn't it obvious?" - She said with her eyes closed.

"Since when?"

"Not of your business."

"Did you cook?"

"Yeah, it's the fridge."

"Cool."

"A thank you wouldn't hurt, you know?" - She huffed.

"Thank you my lovely friend." - I said, walking to where she was and kissed her forehead.

"That's more like it. How was work?"

"Awful as always. I'm so tired of working there, my boss hates me and my ass is on the line. I almost had to stay an extra hour today, can you believe it?"

She hummed something in response and continued with her meditation.
I shrugged and got my food out of the fridge, heating it in the microwave and letting my mind return to the boy at the park.

And while I was here, having a hot soup in front of me, he's out there somewhere in the cold air of the night.

It wasn't right.
None of this was right.

I was quickly snapped out of my thoughts when Emily turned on the TV and all the quietness and her meditation moods finished.

"You done meditating?"

"Yes, not my cup of tea." - She shrugged. - "I tried though."

"Like fifteen minutes." - I laughed.

She stuck her tongue out to me and put on the news on the television.
They were still playing the images of the manifestation that same morning, it showed not only Doncaster, but cities all around England.

It was a huge movement for missing people.

It had started like five months ago, many young boys and girls had been taken and they never came back.
There was still very little information, the police couldn't get the responsibles yet and none of the already thirty missing people had come back.

But the families and loved ones, weren't losing their hope.

"Ems, I don't want to watch that, my life is depressing enough as it is."

"Don't be so dramatic. Your life is amazing because I'm in it." - She said with a smirk, but eventually obliged and changed the channel.

~

Next morning I found myself waking up to the thought of the guy at the park.
Thinking about his wonderful voice, about how he clearly knew how to play the guitar even if his own was wrecked, and how he didn't even look like he belonged on the streets.

He just seemed lost.

He was just coping because of his music.
That was the only thing left for him.

And it scared me, because once his guitar stops functioning, once his four remaining strings break, he would have nothing to hold on to.

And that boy was too talented, too magical and too broken to ever give up on music.