Untouchable

Chapter 15

A/N

Really sorry about the wait!!! Don't hate me for it!

I've been super super busy with dance/musical but the musical is over so I should hopefully be getting more time to write now.

Love you!

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Louis's POV

I asked Paul to get me a ticket to some place sunny.

I still had no idea where I was in the first place and it was fairly warm, but I wanted someplace hot.

I thought maybe if it was hot, I would stop feeling so cold all the time.

Plus, I was feeling restless. I was bored of my hotel, of wandering the streets in the middle of the night.

So, I went.

Paul bought the ticket for me and I went to the airport without so much as paying attention to where I was going.

I thought people might have recognized me at the airport because it felt like they were pointing at me and whispering, but nobody came up to me.

I didn't have any luggage.

I typically wandered around my hotel naked and I had a small rucksack that Paul had shoved clothes into. I just used it as a carry-on.

I slept the entire way on the plane.

Paul had apparently rented me a small cottage in a little cove area.

It had a small little section of beach with soft, white sand and the ocean was bright blue and nearly transparent.

I knew that it had to have been ridiculously expensive to get privacy in a place as beautiful and hot as where I was, but I also knew that price didn't matter any more.

I threw my bag down in the bedroom of the cottage and closed my eyes.

It was a pretty little place and I knew that I just couldn't ruin it like I had with countless hotel rooms. I went outside and sat on the edge of the beach, letting the water lap over my toes when it came close to me.

I took my clothes off and left only my pants on. I stared at the horizon of the ocean until I felt my skin start to burn. I went inside- there was lotion on a shelf and I put it on- then went back out.

It was peaceful outside and inside my mind.

It was strange, really, how I'd gotten used to being by myself. Back before the fight, being by myself meant having to listen to and be drug down by my thoughts.

But now, I thought it was about two weeks later, it was like I had listened to all that my mind could throw at me. I wasn't better, wasn't sane by any means, but there was a shaky sort of peace in my head.

It was nice.

I laid back in the sand, it crunching underneath my head.

It was nice, spending the days in the sun. My skin lost it's sickly pale color and started to brown.

I felt a little bit like me again.

Maybe the sun was burning off a few layers of filth.

And the ocean was gorgeous. It was always cool, refreshing. I spent a lot of my time swimming, seeing how long I could hold my breath until I had to go back up for air.

Sometimes, I swam out until I couldn't see the beach anymore. I'd float on my back and wish that the water would carry me somewhere I hadn't seen yet.