Forever Your's //L.T. Completed [✔️]

Chapter 36

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"I'm more than a bird
I'm more than a plane
More than some pretty face beside a train
It's not easy to be me," Louis and I belt at the top of our lungs.

Louis and I have spent the last fifteen minutes singing songs inside of my hospital room. We weren't too loud, I mean we have some decency.

Louis decorated my room with Halloween decorations while I just got to sit in bed, watching.

I would be helping him, but I've started to get weaker. I can't very well move on my own. I've been spending more and more time hooked up to the oxygen concentrator. Louis and I named him Superman.

Louis was here with me mostly everyday. I don't know how he was getting away with it. Sometimes, he wasn't around, but he always came as soon as he could and apologized over and over for leaving me.

I always tried to convince him to go sleep in my flat, but he always wanted to stay here. He'd sleep in the chair, sleep on the floor, but most time he'd sleep with me in my bed. Sometimes, I wanted him gone because I knew being in a hospital room sucked, especially when you're sleeping.

I truly did enjoy his company though.

"Don't you know it's not really cool to sit around in a hospital room everyday?" I mentioned.

"I take quiet a lot of pride in not knowing what's cool."

Why is he perfect?

"I kind of want to write a book." Louis said, interrupting my thoughts.

"Why?" I turn my face towards him, disgusted.

"I've been reading that book you bought me, it's really interesting. I think I want to write one." He shrug.

"What would you write about?"

"A boy and girl who fell in love." He answers.

"Cliché," I roll my eyes.

"People would dig it."

I nod, realizing he's right.

"I wonder how an author would describe me in a book."

"I think it would go something, like, 'that motherfucker. What a tool.'" I joke.

"How rude!" He complains, dramatically.

I laugh.

"Hey," I put my hands up in defense. "I'm not saying I wouldn't read a book you wrote."

"Last time I was home, mum brought out all the old birthday cards you used to give me. I just sat and read all the notes you used to write for me in them. Sometimes, you would write me jokes. Other times you wrote about the things that I did that annoyed you most." His eyes wander off somewhere else. A contagious smile on his face.

"When I was going through Nan's stuff, there was this Chester drawers full of my childhood; photo albums, sports awards, report cards, my drawings. There were so, so many pictures of you. God, it's crazy how many memories we've made." I shake my head.

"To think, we didn't even know it either. We were just having fun."

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