Chapter 5 Overwhelming

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**trigger warning**
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Louis's Pov

The fucking meeting was a disaster. I thought I could walk in and be fine with seeing them all there but I wasn't. I could never feel fine with that.

I had disappeared and ignored their phone calls and text messages; that was my choice. But of course, the day that I decided it was finally time to answer my phone for the first time in close to two years, it was fucking Simon Cowell, telling me he wanted the band back.

And of course, I had went to my blades right after with the fucking news.

It was too overwhelming, overbearing, and all I did was sit there while Simon and James talked and the lads joked. It was normal for them but I felt it was completely the opposite.

Harry was sitting closest to me and that nearly gave me a heart attack in its self. And he knew. He had to have figured it out. I could see it in his fucking eyes, he knew something wasn't right.

And something wasn't.

I had to leave then when Simon finished talking about all that shit. Had to get out before I panicked in front of them. I had felt it coming while I sat there. My heart started to pound, my hands started to shake.

I mean, it was the first time I had been out of my house to go anywhere like this and to meet the lads as well? I had expected this even though I thought I would be fine.

But I was never fine anymore.

And it didn't help when Simon was about to address fucking relationships. Like hell, I knew he was gonna set me and Eleanor up again and there was no way that I could handle that right now.

That would not make me feel better at all in any shape, way or form. It would only make it much much worse.

Driving back to my house was a blur of messy tears and hyperventilating. It was taking all of my strength to focus on the road without having a massive panic attack in the middle of the fucking road. My hands shook so much, they were unsteady as I gripped the handles of my motorcycle even tighter to try and get them to stop.

I knew I was going to get a ticket for speeding but I didn't care. It beat the paps that started to chase after me when I flew right out of Nando's. There were going to be so many tabloids on me tomorrow and I really tried not to give a shit right then at the moment.

It seemed like hours when it only really was minutes before I made it to my home. I practically flung myself off of my bike, flipping the switch off as I threw off my helmet before practically sprinting inside.

I was glad I didn't really have neighbors.

Once inside, I slammed the door shut behind me, pushing myself up against the grey wooden door to shakily lock it. I rested there for a moment when I locked it, but it still wasn't enough to relieve the anxiousness bubbling inside of me.

"Fuck!" I yelled, knocking my head against the wood of the door. It was painful but, sadly, not painful enough.

A sharp pang of a burning sensation shot through me from my arm and I cursed again loudly as I looked down and saw the blood dripping from my arm. I had scratched all of my scabs open from my last and recent cuts.

Ones I had simply done merely this morning.

And right before I went to the meeting. I didn't even notice that I was scratching.

As I stared at my arm, the urge to cut again hit me like a train. I thought I could try and get through the day without doing it again but I couldn't.

I needed it and it wasn't even past three.

What An Old Heart Wants (L.s)Onde histórias criam vida. Descubra agora