Bruise of Love | L.S ✔

All Apologies

The pieces seem to be magnifying in number as more of Louis is revealed. Something minute is slipping from his grasp but he doesn't know how to tighten his hold on it.

May the mysteries all unravel.

● ● ●

I wait until Liam retracts to his jeep. I turn to face Niall, clasping his collar, I demand,"You've heard from Harry haven't you? You knew he's out." At his silence, I raise my voice. "Didn't you, Niall?"

"Fucking hell yes! I knew he was out, Lou. He made me swear up and down to keep my mouth shut. He wants you safe and happy. 'S all." Niall heavily breathes, his hand on my back sweaty and heavy.

"Did he send the white heathers?" I don't glance at him, I start walking, the question asked to the crying wind and sinking sun.

"I'm not sure." Niall jogs to me. The slap of his converse sharp and booming on the asphalt.

I think over, then rephrase,"Did he deliver the flowers?"

Niall gulps and casts his gaze away from me. Glimpses of the sprinkled stars are what catch my eyes.

"I-no he didn't." Niall is looking at me. His gaze is unblinking.

I look back at him and breathe out,"All those yellow marks covered under jumpers, amber liquid sloshed on the counters. The sticky mornings and the sick sights. Only he knows, Niall. Only him."

I sprint away from him, the urge to get away getting stronger. The drapetomania intensifying every second I'm surrounded by them.

"Louis!" Niall yells after me.

He doesn't follow me.

You're so agile and feisty, Princess. I love making you still.

.

By the time I'm back and let myself into the flat with the spare key, the smell of oranges is heavy and cloying. Oranges that I never bought.

The denim jacket I threw over the sofa is gone a brown coat replaced it. The entire thing is confusing and threatens to give me anxiety.

I lock myself in the room, trying my hardest to believe that the coat is mine. Slowly but surely, I feel reassured that the coat is mine.

But that doesn't solve the denim jacket being gone and my coat moved around. It couldn't have been Niall, he was with me.

Zayn? But my intuition tells me it's not Zayn.

Only Harry knew about the spare key. Not even Ansel knew about it.

I go to my room, too tired to think anymore. The day at the hospital, the doctor, Liam Payne, Niall lying and the yellow roses took a toll on me.

As I fall into my bed amidst last night's clothes and freshly laundered ones, I feel a jabbing. I roll onto my tummy to check the offending object.

It's a key.

Hell.

.

I lug myself from the bed and force the shoes on. I grab my contacts, the coat and wrap it around me, the faint smell of sandalwood clinging to it.

After fifteen minutes of walking and contemplating my decision, I finally knock on Niall's door. No one answers, I fit the key and turn.

It twists, the door unlocking with a sharp click. I peer inside, hesitant and cautious, unknowing of what to expect. I step in, my heartbeat echoing off the walls.