Louis awoke in a daze to the sound of knocking. Disappointed at the fact it wasn't coming from the wall behind his head, Louis tried to ignore it. He did his best to bury himself further into his bed, hoping to fall back asleep, as he had barely gotten any through the night. The knocking, however, was persistent, and Louis tried to listen carefully to see where it was coming from.
Is that at my front door? Louis thought to himself, trying to gauge if that assumption was correct.
At first, he thought it might have been his aunt, but why would she be knocking on her own door? She had a key. Then again, it could have been her trying to annoy Louis. She could occasionally be very petty, especially after a fight. While Louis could understand it, she should have more control over herself.
Louis continued to lie still in his bed, keeping his eyes closed and trying to drown out the continuous knocking on his front door, but the memories of the night before rushed around in his mind. He saw his aunt standing in his bedroom's doorway, screaming at him, though not stepping over the threshold to his room. Her face had looked so much like his mothers. More so than it usually did. Louis remembered the pain he had felt in his chest, and how he couldn't hold his tongue anymore and yelled back.
He couldn't bear the thought of screaming at his mother, and even though it wasn't her, and Louis knew that it still felt like it was. His aunt had just looked so much like her. The memories kept whirling as Louis recalled laying on the bathroom floor, tears from his eyes silently rolling down his cheeks and onto the cold tile floor. A horrible taste had sat in his mouth, and he could still taste it now, as he lay in the comfort of his bed.
Doing his best to move his thoughts off the horrible night, Louis tried to think of the good. He forced himself to think of the voice that had floated through the wall. The voice that had somehow managed to calm him down. Isaac may not have been able to fix what had happened, and he may not have undone what had happened, but he had made Louis smile, and even laugh. And for a moment, just a split second, when he was listening to Isaac's voice, Louis had forgotten about the pain he felt.
He forgot about the pain in his chest as he let the soft, calming voice of the boy next door wash over him. For that short moment, Louis felt as if it was going to be alright. But it passed, as everything does, and now Louis lay in his bed, no longer able to drown out the knocking coming from his front door, and no longer able to hold back the few tears that seemed to have formed in his eyes, which he wiped away on his pillow.
Taking a deep breath, Louis fluttered his eyes open and immediately wanted to close them again as he was greeted by the bright, morning sun, which was sneaking its way into his room. Louis tried to ignore the slight sting in his eyes, as he slowly forced his body to roll over, squinting them to see what time it was. His heart dropped. Seven-thirty-seven. His alarm hadn't gone off.
Louis' eyes scanned downwards until they reached a spot on the floor next to his bed where his phone charger laid. It was vacant. No longer tired, Louis jumped up from his bed and rushed over to the jeans he had been wearing the day before, searching the pockets. It was there he found his phone: out of charge and unresponsive. Louis ducked over to his bed and swiftly plugged it in, though it wasn't going to do him much good now. Louis could still hear the knocking. It seemed to have become more persistent.
"Louis! Open the door!" It was Sam. He was still slamming his fist on the door as his voice carried through the apartment.
Hastily throwing his clothes off and changing into something more suitable, Louis flew around his room, grabbing everything he would need for school, leaving his phone sitting next to his bed on charge before rushing out of his room and to the front door. Taking one last sigh and listening to his best friend bang on the door a few more times, Louis ripped it open. Sam stood before him with a look of worry and confusion etched on his face. His fist still raised, ready to knock on the door again.
"Louis!" Louis felt Sam's arms wrap around him and pull him into a hug. It was warm, and Louis was almost tempted to nuzzle his head into Sam's neck but decided against it. "Why are you still here?"
"I slept in..." Louis mumbled as Sam pulled away from him, making Louis feel a touch colder. He looked up at Sam's face; the confusion seemed to have gone, though the worried look stayed.
"Louis, you look like crap. What happened?" Sam was scanning Louis' face thoroughly, and Louis could feel his face heat up.
He had forgotten that his eyes would be red and puffy from all the crying he did the night before. Not to mention the circles under his eyes were more prevalent than ever.
"I just didn't sleep again; it's fine," Louis replied, looking at the floor, trying to get his face out of Sam's view, though he didn't think it was working.
"Louis..." Sam started, not sure if he should push the subject or not. Louis knew that he wanted to.
He knew that Sam could see he was hurting and wanted him to open up. To trust him. But at the same time, didn't want to hurt Louis any more than he already was.
"I'm fine," Louis said bluntly.
He hated how cold his voice sounded when he said the words, but he didn't want to talk about it with Sam. Not now, anyway. He needed to clear his mind first. Louis brought his gaze up from the floor and back to Sam.
"Why are you here anyway?"
"Because I was worried? Because Sarah was worried?" Sam replied, looking at Louis as though he had just asked the stupidest question. "Sarah called me to say that you hadn't shown up to the bus stop to walk to school with her and asked if I knew if you were taking the day off."
Sam paused for a second, looking at Louis as his eyes fell to the floor again, wondering when Sam had given Sarah his number.
"And since you always tell me when you're having a day off, which is like, never, by the way, I got worried. I know things are a bit..." Sam left his thought open, not wanting to overstep.
Louis could tell that Sam didn't want to bring up the situation, but the words must have slipped out of his mouth before he could stop them.
"Crappy here?" Louis filled in, his voice still blunt and cold, but when he looked back up at Sam, his eyes were filled with hurt and sincerity. "Thanks. You know... for coming, and stuff."
Sam nodded, not wanting to push Louis to talk about it anymore.
"Come on, let's go. We're gonna be late." Sam moved out of Louis' way so he could move into the hallway.
Louis nodded at Sam before walking out of his apartment door, locking it behind him.
As they made their way down the stairs of the building, quite hurriedly, Sam glanced at Louis, trying to read him. Of course, he couldn't, or at least, not clearly, and just seemed to be agitating Louis with every look he gave him.
Soon, they were outside, and it wasn't until then that Louis realised he had forgotten his contact lenses. Silently cursing, he decided he didn't need them, squinting his eyes as he and Sam jumped in the very blurry car.
"Sarah decided to keep walking to school. As much as she wanted to see that you were okay, she didn't want to be late on her second day of school. Said her parents would kill her." Sam chuckled faintly, trying to lighten the mood as he pulled out onto the street.
"Thanks again for picking me up," Louis murmured, feeling around in his pockets for his phone, before remembering it was back up in his room on charge.
"Are you sure you're okay?" Sam asked, keeping his eyes trained on the road.
"Dandy," Louis replied bluntly.
He knew he shouldn't be rude. Sam cared about him, and he always had, and he always meant the best. But at this moment, Louis was tired and didn't want to bring up the previous night. Not yet.
"You know you can talk—"
"I know, Sam," Louis cut him off, not looking at his best friend. "I know I can talk to you. It was just a rough night." Louis mentally pleaded that he would drop it.
He looked out the window as the car fell silent, trying not to look at himself in the side mirror. He knew he looked terrible. He didn't even need Sam to tell him that. He hadn't had a chance to shower, or brush his teeth, or even eat. Not that he could have brought himself to eat without feeling sick. But getting up out of bed like a zombie could not have made for a good look. That's not even mentioning the damage that the night before had done. It was going to be a long day.
"How's your aunt?" Sam asked innocently, not knowing the weight that his question held.
Taking a deep breath, Louis answered, "We had a fight. I'm not sure where she is, or how she is."
Louis' words faltered as the memories of the previous night spun in his head along with the faintest concern for his aunt.
"Crap. I'm sorry, Lou. I shouldn't have asked," Sam quickly apologised, not knowing what else to say.
"It's fine," Louis responded, knowing that Sam didn't know what had happened. Regaining some of his composure, Louis spoke again. "I'm okay now. Can we just—"
"Of course!" Louis didn't have to finish his sentence as Sam got the hint and remained silent for the rest of the car trip.
After what seemed like the longest trip to school Louis had ever taken, Sam finally pulled into the carpark that sat outside it. Louis saw that there were no students left standing around as the bell must have already rung, and school had started. Sam shut off his car, and he and Louis got out. Sam once again looked over at Louis with concern but decided against saying anything as they made their way towards the school.
"I'll see you at lunch, yeah?" Sam nudged Louis' shoulder as he asked the question, and they entered the school.
"Yeah, I'll see you then."
Louis gave a small wave as Sam jogged towards his homeroom. Knowing that there was no point in going to the office to sign in late, as roll call would still be getting checked off, Louis headed to his own homeroom, letting out a long sigh before walking in.
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