T W E N T Y F O U R

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{hold up- have you seen the trailer for CA yet? link is in my profile & in the prologue. i would post it on this chapter but i like this song too much lol it's fine, also love you all} AND PLEASE GO READ THE A/N AT THE END


T W E N T Y F O U R


- E L O U I S E -


Snow is falling on the ground. A pile of white fluffiness is stacked against my windowsill, the quiet flurry making soft, wet tufts of noise against the windowpane. In my head I know that today is the day, that I have to get out of bed. I know I need to move, but my whole body refuses.


Today is the day I have to say goodbye.


I gulp and turn over, bringing my white duvet over my head. Is it wrong to not go? Is it ok to lock the doors and hide away in my bed that is starting to smell like old socks? Would it be selfish to save my goodbye for another day?


A knock at the door stirs my thoughts, and I briefly move my sore eyes to watch Zayn enter the room, his face gaunt. "Elouise," he whispers, walking around my bed, barely making a noise. He finally stops once he reaches my side of the bed, his knees making small popping noises as he kneels down. I watch him in silence, my throat raw. He reaches his hand out to me and I let him touch my face, just barely, but the involuntary flinch that my muscles give doesn't go unnoticed, and he quickly jerks his hand away, looking at me like a child prone to hissy fits.


"Elouise," he tries again, coughing. "We have to go-to the um, you know, today."


I stare back at him in response. I want to say, "The funeral, Zayn, spit it out." But before the words can come to my mouth, my eyes prick and I feel a wetness spread across them. Zayn's face crumbles and he reaches for me again, but stops before touching me, because he knows that I can't handle it.


Somewhere between Uncle Steve's death last week and today, my body had locked down. I am no longer Elouise but a full blown mourning vegetable who does nothing but lay in her bed and cry all day and all night. It's not something I can help. I can't just turn it all back on. My voice doesn't work, there's nothing to say. My body can't handle the pain of someone else touching me, for the last person I touched can never be touched again. I can't even sleep, because every time I do, I see a flash of cold blue eyes.


"You have to get up today, El." Zayn pleads, his dark eyes searching mine for any proof that somewhere inside I am alive, fighting to get out of the cage I'd put myself in. But that Elouise, the Elouise who's locked away and hiding in the depths of her grief, that Elouise can't be lured back out with tender touches and gentle words. Zayn backs away slowly, his heavy breathing loud. In the doorway, he pauses. "You know, I will call him if you want. I know you're not talking, I know he broke your heart, but if you need-" he stops mid sentence and hangs his head, his paint covered fingers sifting through his jet black hair. "Elouise, I can't live seeing you like this. Tell me what you need and I will find it for you."


I stare back at him, swallowing the words on the tip of my tongue. I can't force myself to admit what I really want. And it's not Niall, it's not Harry, it's nobody. I need the old Elouise to find her way out of her labyrinth of pain. So I turn over after he shuts the door and sit up, feeling like I might vomit and sob at the same time, and then coax myself into placing my feet on the floor, one foot at a time.

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