3. Home

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Chapter Three: Home

"Louis, please open the door." Charlotte begged him for what seemed like the thousandth time. She was sitting at the foot of her brother's door, knocking every once in a whilst, trying to convince him to come out.

It's been forty minutes since the small misunderstanding between Louis, Charlotte, and Ed. Louis wasn't going to budge anytime soon, hence his broken conscience, still feeling extremely angered at his sister and at himself. When Louis stayed silent on the other side of the door, Charlotte sighed and stood, brushing herself off before walking down the stairs and into the living room, Ed already in his room and definitely over the situation. To be fair, he desperately insisted that Louis needed some space to think. She couldn't agree less. It was all horse shit to her, she truly believe that Louis needed someone to be there for him during his hardest times, no matter how much he resists, no matter how hard he tries to deny it, he will always want someone to love him.

Overall, she felt defeated at the moment. She sat down on one of the black couches, switching on the television, trying to drown the mishap and just take a breather. Meanwhilst, Louis was on the edge of his bed, pulling on his black Old Skool Vans before grabbing his phone from the bedside table, ignoring the framed picture sitting in the corner. The picture was of a woman whose eyes were ocean blue, much like his own, flowing brown hair, rosy cheeks, and a warm, beautiful smile.

Louis shut the door behind him and loudly jogged down the stairs with a frown on his face. He walked past Charlotte, in which she did a double take, surprised to see Louis out of his room. She almost jumped up from the couch, rushing towards him with confusion and anger written across her face.

"Louis, hey!" She called for him, reaching out for his arm, almost desperate to talk to him.

Louis pulled his arm away from her touch, continuing to walk towards the door without a second thought.

"Louis! Oi!" Charlotte shouted, practically running towards him.

He turned around so quickly, she jumped. "What?" He yelled, frustrated with her annoying and overwhelming calls for him. "What the fuck do you want from me?"

Charlotte just stood there, in either shock or anger, something else Louis couldn't quite read. He shook his head, slapping his hands against the sides of his thighs in annoyance. "I haven't done anything to you, so stop acting like the fucking victim." He spat, turning around and walking out of the door, slamming it behind him. Those words pierced her like dagger right through her heart. Charlotte reached for the doorknob, her hands shaky, but a pair of strong, warm hands on her shoulders stopped her from doing so.

"Let him go," Tommy spoke, just barely above a whisper. "He has to learn."

Charlotte turned around, a frown on her face and with each word she said, she stepped a bit closer to him. "Learn? Do you actually think that letting him storm off on his own like an angry child is helping him understand? If anything, it's making his mindset worse." By then, Charlotte has Tommy right up against the wall, anger and sadness boiling in her eyes.

"Believe me, he needs it." He replied, giving her a pity smile before she tears started to glisten in her eyes, slowly rolling down her rosy cheeks, allowing Tommy to wrap his arms around her in a warm embrace.

"I just want my brother back."

He didn't know where he was, nor where he was headed to, the only thing he knew was that he didn't want to spend another moment feeling stuck in that damned house. After a long walk with the sun beginning to set right behind him, Louis finally made it to the city, with stores in every corner, business centers in every which way you looked with food places not too far, either. He didn't know how long his walk was nor how far away from the house he is, all he cared about was what he wanted to do. He went into the first clothing shop he saw, not giving any thought to the name or brand of the store. Money wasn't an issue for him, Charlotte had given him a copy of her debit card, in case an emergency breaks out.

Happily Never After // Larry Stylinson Where stories live. Discover now