You Sunshine, You Temptress (l.s)

Lonely Shadow Dances

Warning: Discussion of self-harm, please read carefully if this is triggering for you

Gemma

The house has an unsettling ambiance to it. I could blame it on the fact that I've only been here a few days, and it's strange seeing mum and Harry under the same roof without my father. I could blame it on the leaky faucet in the kitchen that drips down every 20 seconds into the coffee stained mug that's sat there for days on end. But it'd be a lie.

Mum and I have walked on eggshells for 2 days now, neither of us talking above a whisper, and walking on socked tiptoes past the door of Harry's bedroom that hasn't opened since he got home that night, petrified of disturbing the shattered boy on the other side of the wood.

I thought I heard his door open last night, possibly to go to the restroom or to get a glass of water, but that could just be my ears and mind playing tricks on me, hoping he was okay but too afraid to find out.

"We've got to do something, mum." I sigh, watching my mum stare intently at the pot brewing her coffee before work. I find it strange that it's 2 days after Christmas and she's working. Before I left, mum wasn't working at all.

I don't mean that in a bad way, I just mean my father brought home all the money we needed by painting some lousy minimalistic 'works of art' that cigarette smoking hippies with way too much free time and a minor amphetamine addiction would drop their entire life savings on just to have a "conversation piece" in their cramped, horribly decorated, disgustingly overpriced loft.

She didn't need to work; she was content with the standard housewife role.

If you couldn't tell, I don't quite agree with my father's life choices. It brought home money and kept us happy for a while, but that faded along with every other memory of the man who I wouldn't even know what to say to if I saw him today. Who knows where he is now.

"Gem, I think we just need to give him some time. He really cared about that boy. We can't expect him to be up and at 'em within two days. He's only 16, his entire world is falling apart," she explained, pouring the black coffee into her ladybug thermal cup.

"It's been 2 days mum, he hasn't eaten, he hasn't showered and hasn't talked to anyone in 2 days." His phone fell from his pocket when he collapsed into our arms, and he never picked it back up. It's been on the coffee table since then.

I'm not one to sit back and let shit pass me by, lord knows where I get that from. Harry on the other hand couldn't be more different. You could come into his life and tear it apart piece by piece and leave him standing in the ruins, but he'd get right on the ground and start scooping up the remnants, forcing them back together and muttering urgent apologies while he cleaned up the mess.

"Don't you think it's best we just wait for him to come to us?" Mum asked, trying to save face. She doesn't have to say she's worried about the poor kid, I could see it in her eyes. Every time the floorboards would creak, she'd perk up, bright eyed and shiny smile, but it was always only the old house settling.

"Mum, I'm leaving in 5 days. I can't just leave not knowing if he'll be alright. This isn't normal."

"Nothing about that relationship was normal," she sighed exasperatedly, the worry lines between her brows creasing together. I didn't know Louis much, just knew he had a big and chaotic family, and he's got a smart mouth.

But what I also know is Harry loved that smart mouthed asshole. He loved him in the best way his 16-year-old heart knew how, and it pains me to see it all go away from the both of them. I watched as Louis wept into his mother's arms the way Harry did to us, but Louis was much, much worse.