London Reed is a 19 year old teenage girl, with a big heart who's life was perfect. She didn't know about anything other than what her parents had taught her, until her life changed in the blink of an eye.
Louis Tomlinson is a troubled man, with a c...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
London Reed Louis' been gone for hours.
I have no idea where he is but I can't open any of these doors, I've tried. The windows aren't ones that open and the doors are locked. I've been sat here staring at the TV since 11am this morning and it's now getting close to 6 at night. I have no fucking clue where he is.
I've been going insane and I felt the need to snoop through his stuff. But I was scared there were cameras in his room so I just left it at that and stayed here.
I just had a shower in my bathroom, using the towel from the cupboard and the shampoo and conditioner that smelled of a tree and coconut, which wasn't the nicest mixture but I had to make do.
When I got out and dressed into these ridiculous short clothes, I brushed my hair with the hairbrush in my drawer and went to the lounge room again. And Louis finally came through the door at around 7:15.
"About bloody time," I uncurl from my ball. He avoids looking at me, making me furrow my brows. "Where did you go?"
"No where," he answers, going down to his room and I follow him.
"Louis, where did you go?" I ask, following him into his room.
"Fuck— leave me alone,"
And I realised that every time I tried to look at him, he'd look away. Until I grabbed his jaw and he winced. On his face were cuts that look like from the knuckle of someone, I gasped and widened my eyes.
"Oh my god," I gape.
"They're not bad," he pulls my hands away. "They'll go away,"
"You have to clean them, you can't just leave them open like that," I shake my head.
"Why?" he sniffs.
"Because they'll get badly infected and scar, let me help you clean them,"
"I'm fine," he shakes his head. "I don't need anything,"
"Louis, they'll get infected," I scold. "They don't need any full treatment, just a clean up,"
He looks up at me confused. "I used to skateboard a lot," I sigh. He rolls his eyes and sits on his bed.
"Fine, fuck," he huffs. "They're in the third drawer,"
I walk over to the bathroom where he's pointing and open the third drawer and like he said, there was some wipes and stuff. I wash my hands and take the wipes, walking back over to him.
I put them on the bed next to him and stand in between his legs. I open one and lift his chin up with my hand. I move his hair off his forehead and see one going down temple to his cheek. I fold the wipe and dab it on the cut which he just stays still at.
"You skated?"
"Nhm," I nod, slowly wiping it so the slightly dried blood transfers to the wipe before I start on the one going across the bridge of his nose. "And are you going to tell me where you went for like...hours,"
"I just went to see someone and it didn't end well," he shrugs.
"Mm, and I'm supposed to believe that?" I ask, wiping the one on his jawline. He hisses at this one and it makes me cringe.
"Then don't believe me, it's what happened," he sighs. I then clean to one on his cheekbone closest to me, wiping it slowly and softly.
"Why do you have so many?" I murmur out loud.
"I don't know," he shrugs. I lift his hair out of his face and see his forehead that had a little cut in the top near his hairline. I wipe that one too and he winced but tries to hide it, before he drops his head after I had finished.
I look down too, he lifts his shirt up a little and I widen my eyes at the cut down this abdomen. "Oh my gosh.." I whisper.
"It's fine," he shakes his head, trying to sit up a little bit but failing.
"Louis," I scold for saying he's fine even though I know he's not. "How did you get these? Is there more?"
He falls onto his elbows and throws his head back, and I now feel the need to take his shirt off because I bet there's more. "Can I see them? Please? I need to make sure you're okay,"
He sits back up with a wince and a groan, pulling his shirt off by the back. He leans back on his elbows and we look down at his torso. Cuts were slightly deeper on his body which made me bite my lip. "Oh my gosh, do these hurt?"
"Not really?" he shrugs. "Only when I lean on them,"
I stand in between his legs with his jeans low on his hips with his belt in the jeans. I look down at his torso and see his prominent abs. He had a few tattoos and sharp v-lines and I could see his boxers poking out the top.
I slowly wipe over the one just under his ribs and he winced a groan and it made me cringe and pull my hand away. "Sorry," I whisper. He then lays down and runs his hands through his hair, grabbing his hair. I look up at him before I slowly wipe the blood away from his skin and he just bites his tongue with sharp inhales.
"These one's are deeper than the other ones," I tell him, he looks down near his abs. "These will hurt, okay?"
He nods. I take that in and I just nod back, putting that wipe on the plastic next to his hip and take another one. I open it and put it next to him, he sits up and I look down with my hair falling off my shoulder. I ignore it and focus on the he cut, slowly wiping it. He doesn't flinch or anything, staying still and letting me clean them.
I manage to clean a cut up without it bleeding anymore or without him moving or anything. I then look up at him, and I double look. It was like he was checking me out or something, he had his lip in his teeth though. He then draws his eyes away from what seemed to be my chest but when he met eyes with me, he shot his head down completely.
I breathe out through my nose and I try to clean up the other one but he grabs my wrist. "I've got it from here," he mutters. I nod and pull my hand out of his, I step away from him, and pick up all the bloody wipes.
I slowly leave, expecting to go a thank you but I don't so I just leave his room and pad down to the kitchen to put these in the bin. I hear his door close and a click, which let me know he wasn't going to come out of his room anytime soon.
I put them in the bin and wash my hands and think back to what he was doing. He was staring at me, checking me out and when I looked, he got really embarrassed by it. I look down at the shirt I was wearing and it was a tight black singlet and the more I realised, he was staring at my cleavage which would one hundred percent be on show in that angle.
