PLEASE READ: You don't know how big my desire is to surprise my readers with what I write. The plot may not be special but I tried to make a little turn in it, so you will be surprised a bit! I hope with all my heart I succeeded and made you feel a bit with the story. I love this one really much. And I beg you, please leave a comment and tell me how it was! You would make my world! This one is for Beatriz and it goes with the song 'Drunk' by Ed Sheeran. If you read like me, then you will hear the song twice and the shot ends right when the song ends the second time (: (It's nothing about death or something like that) Happy reading! ♥

****** 'Drunk' by Ed Sheeran ******

Louis POV

I slowly open my heavy eyelids, and sit up as if in slow motion. Where am I? My head is killing me. What happened? I lift my shaking hands and
rub my throbbing temple. I feel like someone is hitting my head over and over again with a hammer. I rub my face with both hands, trying to
get rid of the horrible pain. It doesn't get better though. 

I look around, taking in my surroundings. What in the world did I do last night? My furniture is shattered, sharp glass shards everywhere.
I see countless Vodka bottles laying around me. Is that all I drank? I cant remember what happened the night before. For now I cant remember 
anything.

I stand up, slowly to not loose my balance, and claw to the wood of a drawer with my left hand. The Vodka starts to make itself noticeable as I
feel nausea build up and hit me like a train at full speed. I crumble, feeling my stomach twist badly. Not hesitating one more moment, I stumble
straight to the bathroom, falling to my knees in front of the toilet. All I could possibly have had in me empties out into the toilet, creating a 
horrible smell that's stinging in my nose. I shudder, feeling another load come up. My hair sticks up from my skin, a cold breeze running over my 
spine. There I am, crumbled over the toilet, feeling like a mess as all the memories come back to my mind. Me getting myself covered up with 
a hoodie and sunglasses and leaving the house. Driving to the nearest store and buying a great amount of large percentage alcohol bottles.
Mainly Vodka and Whisky. Back at my house, breaking down into tears about what I got myself to do. The last thing I know is emptying a bottle
of Vodka into my body and gripping the phone while hot tears still ran down my cheeks. And I left you a voice mail. My love, I am so sorry.
I know you will never be able to forgive me for what I did. I was scared. I still am. And I don't know what to do. I feel like talking to you in my
mind is so much easier. Eventually I will come back and talk to you but not yet. 

I cough a few times and then lift my shaking arm, feeling for the flush. My weak fingers press the button down and I feel the slightest bit better
as part of the nausea is gone. What should I do? Come over? Would you kick me out? Would you cry? Please don't, you know how I hate it to
see you cry. I'm a coward, I know. This all is just too much for me, it came surprising. I'm responsible for it too, I know. I shouldn't be such a
pus'sy and grow some balls but... I feel like I wouldn't be ready for something this big, love. 

I know I always say that those di'cks who leave their girlfriend when they get pregnant should be given a lesson. Ha, guess what, I'm one of them now.
Darling, I promise I will stand back up and come back. Today, but leave me some time, please. 

I press my lips together to suppress the feelings all my thoughts are throwing at me. I need to get ready. My hands lift and pull the toilet lid down.
I press my palms flat against the smooth surface of the lid, pushing my weight up onto my wobbly legs. My feet
carry me out of the bathroom as if they had their own head, and bring me back into my demolished bedroom. I walk around the shards, 
carefully not to step into one as I am barefoot. The drawer I had clawed to before gets pulled open, my hands gripping for a shirt and a pair of
jeans. I strip off the old clothes I had worn the other day and over the night and put on the fresh clothes, not in the mood for a shower. I put on
a pair of short socks and push the drawer back closed before tip toeing back through the room out into the hallway. If my bedroom looks
like that it must mean I was there while I drank. I hopefully didn't shatter the whole apartment. Slowly, I wander along the hallway until I 
arrive at the door frame to the living room. I peek inside and sigh relieved as I see that it doesn't look as bad as in the bedroom. Only a few 
tea cups are broken on the floor and the telephone lying on the floor next to them. Apart from that, the room looks fine.

I step into the room carefully as if walking over burning ash. It just feels like I would hurt even more if I move at faster pace. From the inside 
and the outside. My eyes focus on the telephone. My voice mail, I don't remember what I said in it. Was it something bad, love? Did I call you
names? Or did I cry? I tap slowly over to the phone and bend down, picking it up. If It was just yesterday, my phone should still have it saved.
The tape I send you, the voice mail. I chew on the inside of my cheek nervously. Should I? I don't want to hear how I cursed you out. If I did so.
On the other side, if you had to listen to it, I won't be a bigger coward as I already am and will listen to it. I step to the side, sitting town on 
the arm rest of my couch. My fingers tap away on the device, aiming the tapes it had recorded the past week. I find the latest one and
reluctantly open it, putting the speaker on. 

"Yesterday, 11:27 PM" The woman tells me. Then I hear the tape coming on, chocking sounds coming out of the phone. 
"B-Baby. Bea, I...I don't know what...please forgive me!" My voice begs, full of tears. "My god please I am so sorry,...Such a coward!
I-I shouted at you.." Myself remembers and a horrible crying sound interrupts, glass also shattering in the back. 
"I didn't want to baby! I-I swear I didn't want to scare you! I'm so afraid Bea! I'm not ready for this..I.." Crying sounds filled the silence that
 follows before suddenly there is a loud sob and the line cut off. I stare at the phone shocked. It frightens me to imagine myself after that
voice mail, how I started to shatter and break, throw and kick things around. The alcohol made me go completely mad. 

I breath in shakily and put the phone down, running my hand through my hair. I have to go back to yours and talk to you. There's no other way.
I stand up and stumble out of the room into the hallway, putting my shoes on and grabbing my keys. In not even 10 seconds I'm in the car, 
already pulling out of the lot. I don't care about any speed limit. You're more important. Normally I would have needed 10 minutes to yours.
I'm there in 5 already though. I park my car and jump out. My courage carries me to the door where it, without warning takes off and leaves
me standing there. I stare at the the door. I can see your face in my mind. Your eyes boring holes into my head with your gaze. I need to.
I...I can't. Fear of being to immature, too young hits me. My courage, long gone won't come back. Who will ring the bell to show you I'm here,love?
Nobody. You won't know. You won't know I was here .My breath stocks, the knot in my throat tightening and blocking any oxygen out of my lungs.
I feel like throwing up, again.

I don't hesitate much to turn and speed down the stairs of your apartment. I stumble over my own feet, feeling blind because of the tears in my eyes.
The time I need back to my apartment cuts to half again. I'm home incredible 3 minutes later, crying the whole way. Coward! I scold myself.
You could have made it up! You're a fucking coward! I am so sorry, love. So, so sorry. But that shows you I'm probably not even the good one
for you, am I right? Probably - obviously, I'm not ready for all this, right? 

I manage to unlock the door and shut it back close behind me before I break into full sobs again. Horrible sounds come out of my mouth making
me wish my voice was gone. Then I would at least not be able to make such sounds while crying, or better, shout at you. I would be silent.
Now, I don't know how long I needed to process what I was searching for, but when I found It, and knew what I wanted - needed, 
I couldn't care less. The bottom of the bottle soon pointed up to the ceiling, my feelings being drowned in alcohol, again.

*********************

If you're confused, it happened because *pregnancy* c: Like I said PLEASE comment and tell me your opinion! Love you all loads! ♥ xx
Show all items in this set…

Similar Styles

Love this look? Get more styling ideas

Continue
×
About