Immoral Innocence {H.S}

"I don't want you to loose yourself again." 14.

(A/N) Flux ^>😍😍😍😍

I couldn't see him, my blinds were closed.

I went home early the next morning, praying no one was going to wake up and talk to me- especially Flux. But somehow I managed to wiggle away unnoticed while everyone was unconscious on the lounge floor. I hoped Hardin's parents had visited mine like he promised, I wouldn't have wanted father worrying.

I opened the door quietly, using the key I had hidden under the foot mat to avoid waking my parents and have them asking questions. And I made it inside, no one seeming to be awake or looking for me.

I trudged up stairs, tiptoeing in my ankle boots hoping for no loud creeky floorboards to wake my sleeping parents.

I exhaled when I reached my room, panting at the excruciating walk up here. I twisted my door knob quietly, pushing it open delicately and talking a look inside- my father sat disappointedly at the foot of my bed. I frowned, walking over to side with my father.

"I don't want you going back to your old ways Louisa." Father said lowly. "It was hard getting you back, I don't want you to loose yourself again." He said starting to get teary eyed.

"I won't go back there. I promise. Saint Lewis's was a low point in my existence. I've just found some amazing new friends and I want them to be as fond of me as I am them. I'm just trying paps." I stroked his back assuringly. "Harry's still pissed at me, so I just felt like visiting my other friends for reassurance."

"I'm sorry baby." He said. "I worry about you- my precious angel." He sobbed.

"I love you. Get to bed. I'm okay." I assured him, patting him lazily on the back.

"I love you too sweetie." Father said standing up and pacing off without a second look.

I laid stiff and exhausted in bed, a million thoughts and worries rushing threw my mind to occupy it. Am I a lesbian? I kissed a girl out of my own will. And truthfully I liked it. But I adore Harry, he is why I wake up every morning- even when he is with another girl. I love him. But I liked that kiss. I was so torn and utterly confused.

I wanted to speak to him when he wasn't with that bitch Ellen. I wanted to know how he felt. I just wanted a sneak peak or an insight to how he was feeling- anything would do.

I looked to my right, gazing at my blacked out window that was covered by two layers of curtains and blinds when something caught my eye. That fucking bin bag.

I almost tripped when I rushed over to it- clutching it so tightly in my arms.

I ripped open the bag from the side, tearing it recklessly, not even bothering to untie the knot. Out of the split spilled pages of crumbled and torn work all begging for me to read. Every single one was laying in front of me. Everything I could have hoped for.

This was it, my big insight I'd been longing for. I prayed everything was good, not even necessarily about me, I just wanted closure- to make sure Harry was happy. That's all I wanted.

I picked up one piece and uncrumbled it nicely, flattening it out on my knee while I sat on the floor besides the torn bag. It was an unfinished portrait obviously, no face, ears, lips, just bright blue eyes and a petit nose, almost as recognisable as my own. Almost. It was mine, they were mine.

It was hard to tell, lots of people probably had the same eye, nose combination as me, but I was sure they were mine because that was just my mindset at the time.

I was shocked more then anything- Harry took the time to look at me so hard that I was engraved into his mind. He looked as me so much that I became easy for him to draw. It was an odd sensation- one completely unexplainable and particularly unimaginable. I'd loved Harry for many years, and somehow I was feeling like all this time he might have loved me back.

I took another piece of paper, this time it was more thin and the paper was clearly lined. I looked closely at the faint pencil, the only thing that hadn't been rubbed out multiple times was the title 'LouLou.' Which was proudly and boldly written at the top. I tossed the paper aside, a worried but also giddy grin plastered on my face, although nothing at this point mattered anymore besides Harry- but it always had been that way.

I picked another piece of paper from the pile- the same lined paper as previously entitled 'moments' I read it, baffled but ecstatic and fully and completely infatuated in adoration for the product of my undying love- Harry.

Moments.

I was four, she was three, she was painting a mural on the wall. I watched her, a pair of embarrassingly cringey glasses adorning my young face and I was sure she was looking at me too.

I was five, she was four, she was watching me harass my mum from her bedroom window, a cute smile on her face, I was watching her too.

I was six, she was five, I started school and she waved goodbye. That wasn't meant to rhyme but it kinda did, and I waved goodbye too.

I was seven, she's just turned six, no one showed up at her birthday party and she was devastated. She whispered to me over the garden fence that she loved me and I whispered back saying that I did too.

I was eight, she was seven, I missed her because I hadn't seen her in a while. She was always staying locked away in her room, I was upset about that so I did it too.

I was nine, she was eight, I felt like I was too old for her now. I didn't see her either, she was always watching me though, and I slyly watched her too.

I was ten, she was nine, and embarrassingly ugly for the beautiful girl I knew she could be. I didn't think she was so ugly though, because I loved her, and I knew she loved me too.

I was eleven, she was ten, I'd started noticing the girls at school. I picked one out, Annabelle to be exact, She was lovely but Louisa was too.

I was twelve, she was eleven, she'd been cooped up in her room for approximately two weeks. No one even bothered to notice her, but I did, and she noticed me too.

I was thirteen, she was twelve, and not the least bit sociable. I was always outside with Hardin and the boys but she was always lonely without me watching her, I felt lonely too.

I was fourteen, she was thirteen, and nothing much has changed except from my head, it was fuzzy and I wanted was sex. I loved her more then ever, even though I had Annabelle, but I wasn't sure if Louisa still loved me too.

I was fifteen, she was fourteen, she'd finally broken at the seams and she stepped foot outside. I gazed at her amazingly, nothing about her appearance bothering me in the slightest. She saw me looking, blushed and turned away. I did too.

I was sixteen, she was fifteen, and growing up rather slowly, she still watched me and occasionally I did too.

I was seventeen and she must have been sixteen, she'd gone, left, she wasn't coming back. A piece of me had gone with her and a piece of her stayed with me too.

But now I'm eighteen, she is seventeen and she's back, different and new and taller, thinner, everything. She's still the same though- she looks at me when she thinks I don't realise. I love her, I know her personally now. And fuck, I hope she still loves me too.

(A/N) fucking crying rn wtf have I just created holy mother of Jesus.

Cover by herwalls 💁🏼