If Walls Could Talk

Chapter Forty-Eight

"I wanna take you out at some point," Louis said suddenly, surprising even himself, and Isaac raised his eyebrows at him. "Not as a date, but just as a new couple... doing something."

"That sounds like a date to me." Isaac laughed but nodded. "But I'd like that."

"It's a not-date then," Louis smiled.

"That it is."

The two boys cuddled up once again, quietly playing with each other's hair and sharing small kisses. But all too soon, Isaac's mum was calling, asking him to come home.

Louis lay on his bed after Isaac left, staring at the ceiling, wondering if Isaac was going to go straight to his room or not, but the rumbling in his stomach interrupted him.

Getting up from his bed, ignoring the loud groan the springs made, Louis made his way out of his room and into the kitchen, where he started pulling ingredients out of the fridge and the cupboards, getting everything ready to make dinner.

A little over forty minutes later, Louis sat down to eat when his aunt barged through the door, making him jump. He was sitting on the stool at the kitchen counter when she came in, and he swivelled around in his seat to look at her. Her hair was a mess, and dark circles sat under her eyes. She stood just over the threshold of the apartment as the door closed behind her, and Louis could see that she was having trouble standing.

"Monica?" Louis cautiously got up from his seat, leaving his food on the counter, and took a step towards her.

Even when she looked like hell, Louis could still see his mother's face in his aunt's. It was hard for him to see her like this, especially when all he saw was his mother. It tore him apart.

"Are you okay?" Louis asked quietly.

"What do you care?" Louis heard her say quietly, before staggering over to the couch, using it as a support to keep herself standing. "You've never cared."

"I've always cared," Louis replied, hurt by the words she spoke. "I've always tried to help. Recently, I-I just haven't been the best at showing it," he admitted, feeling ashamed of himself as he took another step towards his aunt.

"You were always so happy with your new family, and that precious boy of yours." Louis froze at his aunt's words.

She didn't know whom she was talking to. She thought she was talking to her sister, Louis' mother. Louis felt a few tears start to form in his eyes, but he managed to blink them away.

"Monica?" Louis repeated, his voice had become much shakier after realising what was happening.

He was unsure of how to handle the situation, and he could smell the alcohol coming from his aunt, but he was certain that wasn't the only thing in her system.

"You were always so happy," Louis' aunt continued to speak, her words were slurred, but Louis still understood them perfectly. "So giving and caring. Then just gone. Poor Lou deserves better."

Louis couldn't stop the tears this time as they rolled down his face. He had never seen his aunt like this or heard those words before. Louis wasn't aware how much she cared about him until this moment; the night he lost his mother and father, his aunt also lost a sister.

"I promised I'd care for him." Louis' aunt pushed off the lounge as she spoke. She started walking very shakily to her room while Louis stood frozen, watching her as she went. "I promised. He's such a good boy. So much like you. I let you down."

Louis stood silently as she wandered into her room and closed the door with a loud bang, and her voice cut out. He could no longer hear her, and he just let the tears roll effortlessly down his face.

He didn't know how long he stood in the living room, staring at the place his aunt had just been, but, eventually, Louis moved. No longer hungry, he shuffled into the bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror. His eyes were bloodshot and red; tear stains trailed down his face. He picked up the hand towel next to the sink and wiped his face and eyes before pulling out his contact lenses. How could someone go from being so happy to distraught so fast? The image of his aunt was ingrained in his mind, along with the thought of his mother.

Pushing himself off the bathroom counter he was leaning on, Louis moved out of the bathroom and back into his room, leaving his dinner sitting on the counter to go cold. As he walked into his room, he went straight to his bed and fell on top of it, not bothering to change clothes or get underneath the covers.

After a few moments of silence, Louis heard Isaac's voice drift through the wall. He didn't hear what he was saying, but he didn't care. He didn't feel like talking anymore. He didn't feel like doing anything. He wanted the night to wash away, to fade away into the darkness.

Louis continued to lie still on his bed with his eyes closed, hoping sleep would come over him. He kept hearing the mumbles of Isaac's voice through the wall, catching snippets of what he was saying. Asking if he was okay, and he was sorry if he'd done anything wrong. Louis wanted to tell him he hadn't done anything, and that he'd been perfect, but he couldn't find the strength to do it.

His interaction with his aunt had left him mentally drained, and though he felt horrible about it, he continued to ignore Isaac. As the morning sun made its way through Louis' window, he heard Isaac knock on his wall.

The guilt of ignoring him the night before washed over him again as Isaac told Louis that he should be getting up for school right before Louis' alarm went off. He quickly turned the loud ringing off and was met with silence once again. Having gotten no sleep, Louis sighed at the thought of the long day ahead of him and rolled out of bed, wishing things could be different.

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A/N: Oh, no...

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