After the End: Book 4

72. He's a Mirror

A/N: I've almost finished my chapter by chapter outline draft to the end. So bittersweet. I'm also pretty far into the analysis I promised.
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Louis POV

The first few times that Harry went to see Cory, he came back really messed up. He was always inebriated. At the time, that fact alone was already scary for me because Harry wasn't the type to do that kind of thing, at least not back then. He used to get messy off of a beer. He'd never even been to a real party when I met him. Not since like 7th year or something. He also came back injured more than once. I used to wonder how he could be so flippant about the change. He didn't see those issues as actual issues.

Now that I'd been inside Cory's house a few times, I had a little more context. There was something dark in there and pervasive. There had been more drugs than I'd ever seen in one place in that bathroom, if I didn't count Ash's storage room (which I didn't since I was still pretending that hadn't happened at all). The entire collection had been a bit awe inspiring. The kitchen was full of liquor. There was also a fresh pack of syringes, and a bagged rocky black tar substance nearby in one of the smaller kitchen cabinets, like she'd intentionally sectioned it away. It's not that any of those things in the house tempted me, but when I looked around at the space, I couldn't help but notice the draw. When you're surrounded in darkness, becoming apart of it suddenly feels more natural.

Harry felt it too. I could see it in his wariness when we'd gone into the house. I'd thrown the nefarious things away on my prior visit, but Harry still walked in with a hesitancy. He didn't make it very far into the house before he went stiff. He clung to Oliver in his arms more than usual, and stayed close to me. He didn't touch anything, but he answered my questions with clarity. He wouldn't go into her bedroom at all. He said he didn't want to go through her things, but I saw him look through the door towards the bathroom. He looked sick to his stomach. He didn't mention it.

Even though he wasn't incredibly comfortable in the shell of Cory's home, he still helped me make a list of things to fix. He was adamant we fixed her lock the next time we came. We were gonna patch the walls at the very least. I was thinking about the merits of replacing her fridge too. It really wasn't that hard of a task. Right before we left, he started to look more comfortable and Harry went into the first bathroom and fiddled with something until he declared the sink had warm water again. The shower was still a mystery.

If I could keep him busy on those tasks through the weekend, I felt like I could stay significantly more settled.

Before the weekend though, I still had to subject myself to one more day of Melvins oversight. As I pumped myself up during my walk up to the building on Friday morning, I just kept telling myself it was the last day of the week. I was still holding onto the hope that Becca might return for the weekend, but she had been sorrowfully vague with her plans.

"Me: You know I have abandonment issues?"

"Becca: I'm not going to be gone much longer. Don't be dramatic."

"Becca: I'm not abandoning you anyways. All I do is talk about you with my gran."

"Becca: <picture attached>"

I thought about responding to chastise her for sending me provocative photos directly after mentioning her grandmother, but instead I just closed out and made it the rest of the way into the building. I was already late anyways.

I got my folder from Melvins assistant and then immediately darted down to the rehearsal room to be left alone. I had made a habit of it over the preceding few days. Nobody bothered me down there, and I half hoped whoever had left the note with my things would come out to talk to me. Nobody had appeared. I was scared enough of someone unfriendly appearing that I had to say that I kind of preferred it like that.