His Hope

Part 21: Pain

21
(x trigger warning)

She cried for hours before she merely passed out from exhaustion. When she awoke again it was dark outside and a cold chill was blanketed over her as if the night knew what she had suffered. She barely pulled herself off the floor, her body aching from being crumpled on the hard surface for goodness knows how long. Her bladder stung and she wondered briefly how it could be full when she hadn't had anything to eat or drink for a while. It took every ounce of energy she had to push herself up and go to the restroom, aware of the necessity.

When she finished she slowly made her way back to the living room, colliding with her couch with a loud thump in the still atmosphere. Louisa curled into herself, staring blankly ahead, her ribs ached but she couldn't bring herself to care. Thoughts were shoving and clawing their way to the forefront of her mind and she didn't have the strength to refuse them.

She wondered how this happened and how she ended up here. Was it something she had done? Her father's actions that caused this? Was it simply fate that led her to the one thing she wasn't supposed to have? She knew what sadness and pain looked like all too well. The pain was unique, it came in different shapes and sizes, but sadness was all the same. She had learned this from a very young age, accepted it, so what was this she was feeling now? This never-ending ache that wouldn't falter, was this suffering? A form her father had neglected to show her? This felt like dying without the relief of death.

"I have spent my entire life living for other people and now you let me experience my own shit!" She screamed, but in her mind or out loud she wasn't sure.

She didn't know how much time had passed while she laid there, but she watched the sun go up and then back down once more. She remained in the same position, except her eyes had become swollen and dry, and her feet turned from tingly to numb a long time ago. Whether from the cold or the lack of blood flow, she wasn't sure.

Images of her life flashed through her brain as if she was watching an unedited movie, with scenes that were filmed but never put in order. She saw her sister on her first Christmas, the day she sprained her ankle when she was twelve, the day she ate an entire pie at a fair, the day she first saw her father pissed, the youngest set of twins 7th birthday party. All of these random moments in her history played in her mind, up until the memory of her offering Xavier napkins at Old John's.

Xavier.

"Xavi..." Her voice cracked from its lack of use.

She closed her eyes so tight she thought her eyelashes would break off. Deep breath in... Deep breath out. Anxiety started to grow inside her like a weed and she found herself turning over, laying in the same position, opposite side. Her face stayed emotionless, her eyes finding the clock on the far wall, but she wrapped her arms tighter around herself.

Xavier.

His name somehow felt foreign to her now and she hated it. She hated the distance between them, she hated what he had done and what she had said to him. She knew it would hurt him and she hated that she wanted it to. She hated that she loved him and she hated how angry she was. She needed answers, something she wasn't sure he could give to her.

Suddenly she was on her feet and she had to catch her wobbling self as feeling drifted back into her toes. As if she was drugged or out of it completely, she moved towards her front door, picking up keys on her way. She didn't know where she was going but her subconscious had a plan and that plan involved Xavier...