Letters (A Dark Louis Tomlinson Fanfic)

Chapter 2

*Edited on 23/07/14*

A/N: I'm so glad you guys seem to like the basic storyline, it was a bit risky haha:') Well here's chapter 2. If you can get 5 votes and 3 comments by tomorrow, I'll update again;D
~L

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*Trinity's PoV*

I threw my backpack on the bed and immediately flopped down next to it. Three weeks. Just three more weeks til I would be eighteen and would have the freedom I'd been longing for, especially recently. My mum was a firm believer in 'you have to be cruel to be kind', meaning strict parenting, good grades and no parties. 

It was a pity she wasn't a firm believer in 'practice what you preach', meaning she stayed out late either partying or 'working', probably seeing a different guy each night. You have no idea how much I wish my dad was the one who got full custody.

I sighed, heaving myself reluctantly off the bed, knowing I had to do my chores before my mum came home (if she did come home at all). I trudged down the stairs and reminded myself of the chores left to me; Take out the trash and take in the mail. Thank God, I hadn't got too much to do. 

I yanked the bag out of the bin in the corner of the kitchen and threw it loosely over my shoulder before ambling outside to the main bin. Lifting the lid, I let out another long sigh as I dropped the bag into the steel container with a thud. 

I lifted my feet lazily and made them make their way over to the mailbox. Bill, bill, junk mail, bill and a letter. I was about to tuck them all under my arm and walk back inside when I noticed something. The letter; it was a letter addressed to me, not my mum. That almost never happened. I was tempted to open it right then and there, but managed to suppress the curiosity and shoved it into the back pocket of my denim jeans.

I walked quickly back inside, a new spring in my step. I hastily plopped the bills onto the kitchen table and leaped up the stairs, taking them two at a time, eager to open the letter that had randomly appeared for me in the mailbox. Knowing my luck, it was probably the pizza place thanking me for ordering so frequently. Pizza was my comfort food, so I was quite the loyal customer.

I sat down at my desk and began to drum my fingers against the solid wood surface, suddenly anxious. I had no idea why the sudden onset of nerves had just appeared. What have I got to be anxious about? I thought to myself. Then I remembered. The letters. They were the only letters I had sent in the past number of months, and this was the only letter I had received in the past couple of months, which meant there was a high chance that the two were connected. 

I flipped the envelope over and my breath hitched in my throat. Sure enough, there, on the back of the envelope, written in slanted, loopy writing, was the address I had supposedly 'made-up'. With shaky hands, I pried the envelope open and laid the letter out in front of me.

I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath and silently reassuring myself before reading what was inscribed on the paper. My eyes flickered open once again and came to rest on the page laid on the desk.

Dear 'Trinity Collins' or whatever, it read. Oh, well this ought to be interesting.

Look, I don't know who you are, or what you expect me to do about your pathetic little life. Did you just write these stupid letters to me randomly so I would pity you? Because that sure as hell isn't going to happen.

How the hell do you even know me?! 'Cause I have no idea who the fuck you are. Are you some sort of stalker or something?! Actually I don't even care. I'm just writing to tell you that you're gonna wanna stop sending me these letters.

Even if you don't want to, you better stop. Not just because they're bloody annoying (which they are, may I add), but for your own good. You don't wanna get involved with me. I'm not your 'Mr.Perfect', and I never will be either.

Yours not so sincerely,
The Guy You Don't Ever Wanna Meet.

I sat with my mouth agape, my eyes skimming over the words once again. I didn't know what I was expecting, but that definitely wasn't it. 

All of a sudden, my hands were scrambling for the nearest piece of paper and a pen flew into my grip. The pen glided effortlessly across the page, leaving me confused as to where these words were coming from in my head.

Dear The Guy I'm Sure I Want to Meet,

If you cared enough to reply, I'm sure you care enough to meet-up sometime. Seems like you've got some attitude, but what's a person without a bit of character, huh? 

I think we'd actually get along quite well... So let me know if you wanna meet up sometime maybe?

Yours a little sincerely,
Trinity.

My mind hadn't caught up with my actions, my brain running overtime in a desperate attempt to work out the reasoning behind my actions. He had clearly told me not to send any more letters to him, but something in my gut drew me in. Maybe it was because, after all this time, a guy was finally paying attention to me, even if it wasn't with the best intention. Either way, I had that impulse again to send the letter, and this time I didn't try to fight it.

I simply walked out to the garden again and let the freshly sealed envelope slide into the mailbox, before returning inside and changing into my favourite fleece pyjamas, acting as if nothing had ever happened. Slightly content, I settled down on the couch and put on 'Shrek 2', before falling into a blissful sleep where I was on the couch, knowing that tomorrow was Saturday and I could sleep well into the morning.

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I woke the next morning to a loud thumping noise. I sat up with a start, rubbing the sleep from my eyes and rising off the couch. I looked around for any signs that my mum had returned home last night, but nope, she was nowhere to be found. 

The thumping started again, three times in quick succession. I dragged my feet into the hallway and realised that it was, in fact, someone knocking rather obnoxiously on the front door. I snorted. It was more than likely my mum, dying with a hangover and having locked herself out.

I turned the lock and pulled open the door forcefully, not in the mood for her shit. "Well, well, well," I scoffed as I turned away, leaving the door open and turning to return to the couch, without even glancing at who was standing on the doorstep, "Would you look who it is."

I stopped in my tracks as I heard a male voice reply from behind me. "Seems like you've got some attitude, but what's a person without a bit of character, huh?" it recited, voice dripping with sarcasm.

I shook my head in disbelief. You've got to be fucking kidding me.

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A/N: 5 votes and 3 comments! GO GO GO!:)
~L

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