Now I feel sad.
I had a headache, too.
Louis wasn't there to close my curtains and that had been two days already.
I'm still so sad, so lonely, so miserable, and I feel like I can't take anything anymore.
But that's mostly because I hate myself for getting this attached, being this whipped for one single person who's already left me and told me he didn't want to start a relationship with me.
Fuck me.
I want him to be mine.
Not for fourhundred hours, not for twenty more days, not just a year, I want him for eternity, even if that isn't possible.
Of course I'd want that, yet Louis is such a sweet guy and he'll be able to find someone else, a girl or a guy who can see, and he'll be perfectly fine. No struggles with guidance and all that, I suppose.
And certainly, I wouldn't want to be the one to hold him back. I wouldn't want to be the one he can't forget about.
Except I did want to keep him from it, yet fought my own thoughts away.
So today, waking up in my empty and cold bed, I had no motivation to get up. I wanted to lay down, only lay down, listen to dumb lovesongs, cry and laugh hysterically and mess up my life. Period.
• • •
Liam came by again, after laying awake for approximately four hours and doing nothing at all, saying I had to cheer up a little.
I wanted to, honestly, so he suggested something; "Let's go to my boat, yeah? Like promised."
And I agreed.
So, here we were, on a wooden dock as I was guided by my friend because I couldn't swim and water practically surrounded us everywhere.
The wind blew my hair from my forehead and it felt a little cold too, but I liked it somehow. After a wrecked two-hour drive to here, everything was better than being in that damned car.
Which was Liam's, not Louis'. I sat on the passenger seat, but it wasn't special, it wasn't as lovely as-
Oh, Goddamn, quit thinking about him.
"Pretty cool, huh?" Liam's voice was dimmed by the breeze, "It was my uncle's, remember? We went here two years ago too."
I nodded, even if I didn't quite remember it. Every year just passes, birds sing, cars honk, lovers go..
A hand, way larger than a certain one that was placed there very often, pushed me forward, followed by Liam telling me to be careful and take a big step.
I wobbled on my legs, uncomfortable with the sudden change of stabilisation, but ignored it. I got nauseous, but ignored it. I wanted to go home, but ignored it.
I was dead inside, not able to enjoy anything at the moment.
I ignored it, or so I hoped.
But all I could was think of him, and I wanted to let it go past me, let it flee, yet I just couldn't do it, it was too fresh in my memory.
His perfect voice, his delicate fingertips, his soft lips that left soft breaths at night.
I missed him with all the cells inside my body, all the bones, all the veins, all my heart and it didn't seem to ever stop.
• • •
I was brought home later that night and plonked down on my bed straight away, gripping my doorpost a little harsh in the process of stumbling in.
I didn't care, not right now.
So I slept once again.
Only to wake up the next morning, way too quick, still tired from being a useless thing with non-functioning eyes being sad.
Three days now, fucking hell.
My heart hurt, still.
Can't the stinging stop?
I launched my arm to the side, hitting my old-fashioned musicplayer, and pushed the pin onto the record. I listened to it when it started to play, keeping my eyes closed.
The soft melody melted with my ears, my hands slowly getting back next to my body as I enjoyed the pretty sound.
I never listened to the record after Louis left, all I did was put it on the player, never have I touched it afterwards. Didn't dare to, you could say.And that was because I thought it would release all my emotions.
I was right.
My eyes started to sting from trying to hold back tears, my fingers fisted my bedsheets and I fought, fought so bad, but lost, ending up like I expected to end up, crying, sobbing, rolling on my matress until my sleep took over again.
The tears hurt more than the stinging pain in my heart.
It brought me relaxation.
• • •
A harsh knock on my door woke me from my plain, short sleep, causing me to shoot up and blinkingly open my eyes.
The record had stopped and I groaned, standing up from my - little warmer - bed and stumbling to the doorpost of my bedroom.
The soft material on there had been scraped down lighty, it's as thin as paper now, probably from gripping it too much - mostly yesterday.
"Harry! Harry! Big news." The Irish voice screamed, high-pitched into my ears from behind the wood. I grunted and wobbled further, searching for the doorknob and opening the front door.
"What is it?" I groaned, I didn't want to deal with his or anyones' buisness right now, I needed some time to get over the fact that-
"Louis called."
"What?"
•
Oh, d'you guys like it so far? Bc i do.
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Show me the world || Larry Stylinson - EDITING
FanfictionHarry is a social butterfly, has lots of friends, hangs out and even goes to parties sometimes. Yet there's one downside: he's blind and hasn't seen any of the world except for feeling London with his fingers. Until.. Now.