Harsh street lamps light the the path ahead of us, crushed, soiled snow separated into dense mitch-matched shoeprints. His hands are pacing the hem of his pockets and I watch as his fingers mimic his curls, swaying back and forth. I dare not to speak, not after witnissing what I had that night, not after watching him throw a gun over into the harbor; watching it sink twelve feet and disappear.
"Keep your fucking mouth shut, got it?" His fingers wrenched the collar of my blue petticoat, almost as blue as his eye but never as harsh. I swallowed his secret and kept it locked in my chest, thumping on my lungs to free itself. Thumping on my wrist, chaining me to him and all his horror.
"I didn't mean it, you know that right?" He chokes, the tears frozen to his purple skin and bruised collarbone, scratches of reds and white trail down his chest. Stopping at the tattoo on his breast plate.
I know we have to get off the street, I should tell him this but I'm too afraid to speak. It is such a foriegn feeling, I can speak to him about anything, just not this.
Then again, I can't recall what this is, yes, I was there, I had seen every gruesome detail but...how had it escalated this far; into something out of my control, Louis' control.
××inflouence// thanks for the amazing idea××
××shenialligans// thank you massively for these amazing covers that I will be dilating through this whole book because...love××
××Updates every Wednesday and Fridays and alternating sundays××