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XXVII - Tomlinson

XXVII - Tomlinson

Do you know that feeling when you just need to let it out?

You can feel the imaginary walls closing in, but you hold yourself back, you hold it all in and keep your calm. But the world keeps playing games and keeps poking at you. And finally, you just can't take it. You need to get it out, you need to just give in to the craving and pour your heart out.

Everything just gets too fucking much, you try and try to hold it in, to not feel anything. But that's just stupid. You can't tell your heart to do that. It's like walking through fire and telling yourself to not feel a thing. You try not to react to it, you try to not let it affect you, but how do you kill an emotion?

As I kneel on the muddy floor with drenched clothes on the downpour, I could tell you a thousand things I feel, but not a single word would do justice.

I hold her tight against myself and bury my face into her chest. I feel her nails raking through my scalp, her fingers running through my back as she tries her best to hush me but it's of no use. It's like I'm falling apart and she's the only thing that's keeping me together.

"Hey... Shh... It's alright now... Calm down... I'm here."

A string of comforting words are uttered as I stay there, holding her, finally finding myself calming from the hysterical sobbing. I let go of her immediately feeling the coldness of her absence. Wiping my eyes with a sniff, I open my mouth to apologise for the abrupt outburst but she beats me to it when her hand reaches out to cup my jaw.

I look at her in silence and in complete awe as she smiles at me, so wide... so big; I can feel something shift inside of her, but what?

I look into those magnificent hazel eyes that shine so bright in this dark night and I seem to find a sort of solace inside them. She looks at me if I were the only sky in the darkest night and before I knew it, she leans in pressing her lips against mine and kisses me as if I were the air that filled her lungs.

My body catches up to it before my mind and my hands immediately reach to her hips, pulling her closer as I kiss her back. It's not a lust-driven, frenzied, hurried kiss. It's a slow, romantic, passionate exchange that makes my mind reel.

The drizzle and the gushing wind is downright freezing, but somehow as I stand there, kissing this beautiful girl... I feel warm.

It's a shame to rush into a kiss you know, a kiss is not just a kiss but rather, a soul breathing life into another soul... All-consuming, hot, molten liquid desire melting your insides. Kiss her right and she's yours. A kiss is never just a kiss.

When we pull apart, her eyes are wide and I'm guessing mine are too. Something switched between us, I can feel it, I can feel it resonating into bones, to my core, I can feel it shaking my soul to open it's eyes and see the obvious, but what?

She wordlessly turns to the tombstone, going back to holding my hand as we stare at my father's grave.

And I understand, I understand why people hold hands; I'd always thought it was about possessiveness, saying 'This is mine'. But it's about maintaining contact. It is about speaking without words. It is about, 'I want you with me' and 'don't go'.

"It's not fair, you know." She breaks the long silence, "From what I've heard so far, your father was an amazing person who loved you guys a lot." I frown looking up at her as she continues, "He'd want you all to be happy, you all deserve to be happy."

"What are you trying to say?"

"Your mum deserves to be happy. She doesn't deserve a life full of misery and mourning over your dad." Her tone is sad and defeated. "I understand that you love him, and that you feel like Dan's trying to replace him but it's beyond that Louis." And now the upset tone quickly turns to a frustrated one. "Think about it, your mum is lonely and she found love somewhere else. That doesn't mean she didn't love your dad or she's trying to replace him, it simply means she's getting another chance in being happy."