Louis drunkenly staggered towards Eleanor’s grave. Sunken bags rested below his eyes, a constant reminder that he couldn’t sleep without knowing Eleanor was there, safe. He couldn’t rest without feeling that absence of Eleanor’s warmth curved into his body, the missing piece to his puzzle.
That was all gone now. He loved Eleanor. No,he still loves, Eleanor. He couldn’t stop loving her because she was dead.
He sat down in front of her grave, laying down a single white rose, slightly damp from his tears. He unloaded the picnic basket that he’d brought with him, taking out a candle that smelled of vanilla, the same scent as Eleanor’s favorite perfume. He lit the candle with a match, the fire burning as brightly as their love.
Love. He said it out loud and let the word roll off of his tongue.
“LOVE,” he shouted, not caring if anyone else was listening. He was too drunk to care. He was addicted to the numb feeling that drinking gave him. If he couldn’t feel Eleanor, the bump boom of her heartbeat, hear Eleanor, the soft lilt of her words encompassing him, letting him know that she loved him as much as he loved her he was lost. And he wasn’t sure that he would ever be found.
The candle burned, filling the inky black night sky with the scent of Eleanor. He hoped Eleanor was okay up there, drifting off somewhere above him in the sky, hopefully watching over him. He dreamed that she was still with him sometimes.
The sky was filled with burnt hopes and waxy dreams.
“Mind if I join you?”
A familiar Cheshire accent filled his ears. Louis didn’t say anything. Harry sat down anyway.
“Look Lou, I’m really sorry! I didn’t expect our kiss to do this to her! I’m not a murderer!”
He choked on his words at the end of the sentence, a sob abruptly coming out of him.
Louis looked at Harry, seeing the red rimmed eyes, and tear stained cheeks accenting his face.
Harry spoke again. “Remember when I said that you wouldn’t understand when I, um kissed El?”
Louis spoke curtly, a low trace of a growl in his voice, “Don’t call her El. You don’t deserve to.”
Tears welled up in Harry’s eyes. His heart ached. He only kissed Eleanor because he loved Louis, and was so frustrated by the fact that Louis wouldn’t ever realize it. So he took out his anger by trying to kill Elounor’s relationship. Only instead, he’d killed an actual person.
It didn’t help that no matter how hard he tried not to, he kept falling for Louis, over and over again.
“Lou,” Harry asked,” do you mind if I do something?”
Louis shrugged. Harry didn’t know what the response he would get to this was, but he might as well go for it. He cupped Louis’ face in his hands and kissed him.
Bunches of thoughts flew through his head. He knew a couple things. He knew that Elounor was real. Because if what he and Eleanor had wasn't real, then he would be fine. But he wasn't fine.
He wished he could wake up with amnesia. Or better yet, he wished he could go to sleep but never wake up. And then maybe he could wake up in heaven, with Eleanor. That's all he really wanted now. To drown himself with alcohol and and not care, He didn't care that he nursed a hangover every morning, wearing sunglasses to shield himself from the sunlight. The other members of One Direction tried to have an intervention. But Louis figured that drinking till his kidneys failed would be a better option. Because then he at least had a chance of seeing Eleanor again.
Louis felt the numb of the alcohol fading away. But still he let Harry kiss him. He didn’t know why, but it felt right, and he didn’t know how he was feeling that way, and all he knew that it was beautiful.
And even though he wasn’t fully over Eleanor, he’d now accepted the fact that he was still able to find small beauties in her death.
And that was his love for Harry right now. Small, but beautiful.
-----
[MoaningLouis author's note]
Hi! So, I know this is different from all the other entries, but don't you think it was written beautifully? I mean, I'm not a huge Larry shipper, and the girl who wrote it said she doesn't ship Larry at all but djfvrjyhrktgnrkjgr
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Fame || Elounor || #WATTYS2014
Fanfiction[COMPLETED] Eleanor was tired of everything, she hated being called a "beard ", even if Louis assured her that he loved her, and only her. Soon Eleanor snaps and decides she just can't handle it anymore. She decides to take her life, and become an a...
