Constant | Louis Tomlinson

[ COMPLETED ] ** CURRENTLY UNDERGOING EDITING DUE TO AMATEUR WRITING AND MISTAKES ** ||||| Tarin was a typical girl. She was enjoying her last year of high school, with her few close friends. She had never thought much about boys, she focused on her academics. With graduation only two months away, and university starting in four months, she had all her focus on her future career, that was until she met this boy. This boy who was like no other. This boy who would steal her heart. This boy who would change her life forever. ||||| Warning: There are scenes of sexual content, foul language, self-harm, drug use, underage alcohol use, and violence in this fan fiction. ||||| Louis Tomlinson ||||| Also can be found on wattpad, where I follow back


63. 63


I rolled over in bed, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. I lifted my wrist up, staring at my watch. Did I really just sleep for ten hours? I groaned, lifting myself up in bed with my weak as shit arms. I really needed to begin lifting weights again to regain my strength.

That's when the other bed within my room stole my focus. Oh right, I was supposed to be getting a roommate, I'd nearly forgotten. I looked around the room; however no one else was in the room with me.

I reached for my phone on my bedside table. Reading through the messages, one caught my eye. Mike. I remembered him as the man who had phoned me a few days ago.

Still trying to match that audio file, still having no luck.

The man who had talked about some audio file. I never bothered responding to the text message. Instead, I scrolled to my audio files and to the one marked Important. Once again I hit play. No sound came out of my speakers. "Shit," I murmured. I'd forgotten my phone was on silent. I fumbled with my phone, eventually succeeding in turning the sound on. I heard a small thud and then the audio recording ended. I used my thumb to push the repeat button.

"Zayn?" I turned my head towards the voice.

Everything drew my focus towards her. I exited my recordings, throwing my phone on my bed. "Abby?"

It was really her. It was Abby. "What are you doing here?" I asked her, feeling the tension between us.

"I'm your roommate." She slowly walked into the room with her walker. She was young, there was no way she had knee, back or hip problems. I gave her a look of concern as I watched her attempt to move her walker with only one arm, her other arm hanging in a sling and wrapped up in a heavy cast.

I admired her features and once again relished in them. Abby and I had dated before I met Caycia. We dated for a short two months. When Abby and her best friend Charlotte found the article about Caycia and I written in a local magazine is when things with Abby and I fell apart, and in a horridly ugly way.

"I never thought I'd see your face again, never mind us being roommates." She interrupted my thoughts.

"Look, Ab-" I was at a loss for words. It was wrong what I did to her. "I'm sorry."

She turned and laughed at me, "that's all you have to say? After the last few months? After cheating on me with that whore you're with now? I'm sorry?" I thought she'd yell at me, but her voice was merely a whisper.

I felt my stomach twist in knots. I don't know what I was thinking. I didn't know what happened that night. There was just something about Caycia when I met her and I knew I couldn't pass up a girl like her. I didn't regret it, I just couldn't help but feel awfully guilty about it all. I knew that it had screwed Abby up, I just had avoided those feelings until now. And now that I was seeing her all beaten up and scratched from her accident I felt ten times guiltier.

"Ab . . . I don't know what to say." I rubbed the skin between my eyes, "Look, you know that I'm sorry. You know that I cared for you. You know that what we had for those short months was real. What we had was good, and that was simply it, good. In fact that was the problem, things were only good, not great or fantastic or amazing. I know I screwed up. I screwed you up. I fucked up your trust. You don't understand how guilty I felt, how guilty I feel." I fidgeted with my hands, "but you know when you meet someone truly special, someone you feel this unbelievable connection to, you really can't pass it up. I don't regret getting together with Caycia. I don't regret it one bit." She rolled her eyes at me from across the room, "what I do regret is that I didn't end things with you. I wasn't civil about it. I wasn't thinking about you, or your feelings. I was only thinking about myself. I was totally selfish about the whole thing."

She never said a word about my apology. She shifted uncomfortably on her bed, "does she know? About me, I mean."

"No." I mumbled.

"Why are you keeping it a secret?" She shifted her sling.

"Because I know it will crush her." I whispered. I knew that Caycia would be upset with me; I knew she'd be mad. I knew that if I told her, she'd feel so guilty. She'd feel like she was someone who wrecked a couple's once happy relationship. And I know I'd reassure her that Abby and I's relationship had become stale rapidly, because it had. It didn't make it right, but it made me feel slightly better about the situation. Abby and I didn't share the same passion and love that they write movies and novels about.

"Is there anything else you're keeping from her?"

"No." I lied. I didn't want to talk about this. "What happened to you?" I quickly changed the subject.

"I was in a car accident about a week and half ago. I broke my arm and I have bad knee pain now. They're worried they might have to replace my knees if they don't strengthen."

"Wait, a week and a half ago? Where?"

"Uh, near that little bar we used to go to all the time, why?" She said shyly.

"I was just checking that we weren't in the same accident," I awkwardly laughed. "So what happened?"

She averted her eyes, "I was uh . . . I was drunk. I ran into oncoming traffic." She clears her throat.

I nearly choke. "What?"

"I just came back from my AA meeting, that's where I was when you were sleeping."


She sticks a hand up to stop me, "Don't. I've been pretty messed up these last few months . . . some things happened after you left me."

My stomach twists in knots again. I open my mouth to begin talking.

"But I don't want to talk about it right now." She lays down in bed and rolls over, signalling that she no longer wants to talk.

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