Louis is tiered of life. His demons from the past won't let him rest and he's a loner. Nothing worth living for.
But then he meets Harry, a bundle of sunshine and slowly the darkness in his life fades away.
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The trauma I'...
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Now he gets a taste of his own medicine. So that's how Harry must have felt in the beginning and it's an absolute shitty feeling. Louis is so scared that he's never really going to speak to Harry again, his throat is choking and he doesn't know what to do. Maybe he shouldn't try anything else for today and just hope for tomorrow, maybe Harry then has calmed down a bit? Louis holds onto his hope like a lifeline. He literally forbids himself to allow anything else, he owes it to Harry. Gone are the days when it was all about him and his horrible experiences. This time he wants to focus entirely on Harry and the pain he has caused him. Louis decides to make the change visible in a different way and, without thinking about it, makes his way to a hardware store. Enough of the overwhelming black walls, he wants to let Harry and color into his life. Change starts in yourself first and he's not just doing this for Harry. Accepting that he is his own boss gives him strength. And so he slowly strolls through the aisles with colors and doesn't really know what to take. Only white? Or should he be brave and even take something with color. He stops in front of a pink paint that reminds him of Harry's lips and his bobble hat and he can't resist pulling out a bucket of paint. His gaze continues to wander over the colors and finally he reaches for a light gray bucket of paint. Because Louis can't really get out of his own skin and black will probably always remain his favorite color. A light gray is therefore a good compromise. Standing at the cash register, he can't really believe that he's actually going to turn one of the black walls pink just because it reminds him of Harry's lips. What did this man do to him?
Back in his apartment, he moves the furniture and his mattress to the middle of the room, spreads old newspapers under him and begins to paint over the black walls. There's something therapeutic about it as he paints the one wall he's facing from his mattress pink, instantly making the room feel bigger and friendlier. Like a new beginning in his life that he doesn't anxiously welcome. 'Cause he's in control, he's the boss. This is his life and the realization is so damn good. He would love to share it with Harry, so he puts down the paint roller and sends him a message. It doesn't matter if Harry will react to it or not, but he should know that a development is taking place in him.
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He puts the phone aside and gets to work. By the evening he has painted everything and even if he has to get used to the sight, he knows that this is good. What would he give to have Harry with him right now, lying on the mattress with him, checking if the pink on the wall really matches his lips and then kissing them sore.
