In Too Deep (Dancing With The Shadows)

eleven

It's four days later after the whole trampoline slumber party (to Louis' horror). He shouldn't really call it a slumber party, because not much party happened, and majority of it involved the pair spooning in their sleep without even realising it, until Mabel came along and decided to wake them. 

Louis didn't see of Harry yesterday. He trapped himself up in the cottage, not even coming out for meals, which was concerning to Louis.

But, to be honest, he has food in his house, so he probably whipped himself up some comfort pasta. That's what Louis did, anyway. Skipped Mabel's amazing lasagne and went for cooking some pasta up in his tiny kitchen upstairs. He almost set off the smoke alarm with over boiling the water (in his defence he was too occupied with staring out the window in the kitchen that overlooks the courtyard, hoping to find a lanky figure to just stroll past). 

He barely wanted to wake up this morning. His thoughts whirled all night, keeping him up majority of the night. It's a week and two days away. He is dreading it, because every time that damn day comes rolling around, he is reminded of how much of a monster he really is, and how much he deserves to be alone in this world full of people.

He looks himself in the mirror now. There's thick clouds hanging overhead outside the bathroom window, so only the artificial light stuck in the ceiling helps light the room in an orange glow. It's humid outside, they forecast storms next week, which he isn't particularly looking forward to.

He hates the bad weather, makes him feel as though his darkness inside has escaped and is creating his world to be the same. He much prefers the sun where the blinding rays can almost help him forget his worries. 

Almost. 

He picks at the spot on his chin that has suddenly popped into existence, frowning at it. He grabs his face wash, watches the steam from the hot water in the sink wisp into the air and cling to the mirror's surface. 

He scrubs his face with his face wash, hoping it'll help the little bugger to just disappear.

A knock at the bathroom door makes him startle, and he accidentally pokes soap in his eye, making him hiss.

"I'm busy getting blinded!" he calls out with a shake of his head. Honestly, who decides to knock that loudly?

"Lou, mate, the groomer called in sick. Would you be able to groom the horses and bring them in? They forecast heavy rain tonight, don't want them stuck in it," Peter orders from the other side of the door.

Louis breathes heavily through his nose. "Kay, lemme rinse my burning eye out and let's hope I can see my way to the stables," he dramatises with a roll of his stinging eye. 

Peter chuckles, his heavy footsteps falling away. Louis is quick to rinse his face, water trickling back into the pool in the sink echoing around the confined space. He unplugs the plug, watches the water swirl like a tornado down the drain before dabbing his face dry with a fluffy towel. 

He still isn't dressed from his pyjama shorts, so he opens his wardrobe doors, peering inside whilst biting his bottom lip. 

He's not trying to impress anyone in particular, but wearing something nice would be a plus to his day, right? 

He spots some light denim shorts and pops those on, pairing them with a clean white tshirt. It's better than the swim shorts and tank tops, at least. 

He shoves his phone into his pocket once texting Harry quickly to see if he wants to go with him to groom some horses. He's not expecting an answer, knows every time he texts Harry during the day, that the boy rarely ever replies, he'd be surprised if he gets a one worded answer back. He's mot expecting Harry to show up to the horses either. Why would he do a chore on his holiday anyway? But the thought that he could rock up, makes him feel a little giddy.