She's too young - completed

This is a story I wrote for a fan, Ellie. I'm so sorry I haven't posted it, it's been waay crazy. So anywho, this is a fanfic about Louis Tomlinson. They fall head over heels in love, but will it work? People will cry. Feelings will die. And the world will continue to tell them, "She's too young..."

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52. Evesdropping

I held my hand firmly over my phone, answering quietly.

"Louis?"

"Yeah, it's me.." he replied, low as well.

I didn't know what it was, hurt? Yes. Sadness? Yes. Fear? Yes. Happiness? Yes. But it was something else. An anger started to bubble inside of me, why was he calling me?

"Why are you calling me?" I spit out, saying exactly what I was thinking.

"I know you called me..." he stated. I had almost forgot about my attempt to call him in the middle of the night. That was embarrassing.

"Uh yeah..." I  frustratingly fiddled with the hairtie in my bun, letting it fall loose and down my back.

"Look, I just don't want you to hate me, okay?" He sighed.

"I could never hate you, Louis..." I whispered. His choice of words actually crushed me unexpectedly. I would never, ever, hate him in a million years no matter how hurt I was. I just hated how he left me there. I hated that he thought he was protecting me. I hated that even though I just watched my ex bestfriend get brutally killed, he still walked out on me. I hated everything. And I hated Louis Tomlinson. As of right now, I just hated him. I was lying. No matter how angry I was I realized I didn't truly hate him. I despised what was happening between us. What is happening between us.

"I want you to know.. that I still love you. With all my heart Ellie." His voice was heartfelt, and it made my insides melt. Like I wanted to run to his house after that day we fought, and kiss him, and love him, and be with him. But the unfortunate reminder held to me that we were broken up. I loved him, but I couldn't love him the way I wanted to. Because we were done. Over. And that was it.

"I don't know what to say." I mumbled, sitting at the edge of the curb waiting unwillingly for my dad to arrive soon.

"You do know why I'm doing this right?" He asked, and I could almost see him running his fingers through his hair in a stressed way, like he did so often when he was sad or something was bothering him.

"No, Louis. I don't know why you're doing this. I don't know why you are breaking my heart right now. I'm not sure I want to know either."

"That's the thing, I'm not hurting you."

"Yes you are!"

"No, I'm not."

"Okay. Well why did you call me just to argue?" I snapped, my eyes peeled to the road before me.

"I am trying to keep you safe, whether you think so or not. I didn't want to leave you, I didn't." He shouted.

"I'm still here Louis! I'm not the one who just died. Which I'd appreciate if I could have at least a grain of solace from you."

"I care! You act like I don't. That's why I'm doing this."

"You don't know that by leaving me, its killing me inside. How about protecting me the right way?"

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"I'm staying with my dad, three hours away. And I won't be back for two weeks. That's going to fall on opening night." He paused, and my eyes squeezed shut waiting for the rest of his words that didn't come.

"So what are you saying?" I asked quickly.

"If something else happens, then I'm gone for good."

"Louis I don't understand..." I tried desperately to comprehend what he was saying. But it was hard. What did he mean.. 

"I'm saying we have two weeks but if..." he repeated, still not explaining fully to me.

"If..." I trailed off at the silence.

"If something happens to you, I'm gone." He said one last time before hanging up. I glanced at the screen reading that the call was ended, and I rubbed my teary eyes taking in what had just been talked about. He wasn't being clear enough, because I yet understood what 'we have two weeks' meant. I didn't bother to ask why he was three hours away, or why he transferred schools, and I didn't get to say anything or ask anything I wanted to. Only two things were visible to the situation. He loved me. But we were still broken up. I was beyond bothered. The fact that he told me he loved me with all his heart made me shudder. To be honest we'd only known each other for a little over a period of two and a half months. Those which we had fallen so in affection, time didn't even matter. Because most people would at least show their care in that way after six months at least. I didn't care. At the time I thought we'd be together for forever like he promised me.

But as life goes on, promises are broken, right?

Maybe he wanted to just be friends. But I didn't want to be just friends with Louis. I wanted to be his everything. If we were friends I would never kiss him passionately, I wouldn't be able to feel his body that was wrapped around me, I wouldn't kiss at his neck to pay him back for doing the same to me, and never again would my fingers glide across his skin, while his hips moved down to meet with my own. That's not what friends do. And I just really wish we could see that. That he was my all, I never wanted any of what we shared to go away. But maybe that was my problem. I was looking into things too much. And instead of 'not caring' I really needed to care for once. My thoughts were so jumbled and confused into my phone call with Louis, that I hadn't even noticed the bright blue and red head lights of my dad's police car pull up beside me. I stood up, dusting off my jeans before opening the door to slide in.

"Your mother was worried about you." He grumbled.

"I told her where I was." I comfirmed as I clicked my seatbelt across my shoulder.

"Well you're staying with me for the night." He assured me, and I looked at him with widened eyes.

"I thought I was never aloud to be back there again?"

"You are tonight."

"Great." Muttering, my hands rose up to rest on the temples of my head.

-

Some time later, I was walking around Martha and my dad's mansion that I'd only been in once before, and my mind was still wandering elsewhere as I got a more 'proper' grand tour of the home. Martha acted as if she had no complete memory or recognition of the situation that happened the last time I was here. And I must say, she was playing it off quite well.

"This is the room you'll be staying in." She ushered me aside into a large extra guest room, with a pair of pajamas laid out neatly on the bed before me.

"Thanks.." I murmured, setting my book bag on the floor.

"I hope you don't mind, I set out a pair of clothes for you, since I can see you didn't bring an overnight bag." Her eyes were on my dad's, and she looked as if she was trying her hardest to befriend me or show some kind of sympathetic gesture. But why would she hold sympathy for me? Oh... the accident. I mentally prayed to god she didn't bring it up. Because mainly of the fact that Chelle blamed the whole situation on me, and I too fell the blame on her as well. That's when I realized, I hadn't seen her tonight at all since I'd been here.

"Well if you don't mind, I'm pretty tired, I think I'm going to lay down." I lied partially, I was exausted, but I didn't want to go to sleep just yet. I just desperately wanted to be out of the presence of them.

"Are you sure, sweety? Its only seven o'clock." Martha pointed to the upscale digital clock in the far corner of the room, when dad whispered something in her ear. "ah, yes. You've had a rough two days. Get some rest baby girl." She kissed my cheek and closed the door behind her when they left. If things went my way, I would most likely burn this place down. It was ridiculous that she called me 'baby girl' and it was disgusting how nice she was being.

I showered in the convenient bathroom inside of my bedroom, totally aware that Chelle could walk in any minute and slaughter me right on the pretty golden floors. I would just say I kept an eye out. When I stepped out, I immediately dressed in the cotton pajamas and hid beneath the silk sheets staring at my cell phone. It was hard, as I fought the urge to dial Louis' number. I was alone, in that big bedroom with no one to talk to, so eventually I faded to sleep of practical exhaustion. The nightmare still chased after me in my sleep, with that car, the rain, and my scream looking out for her. Nearly scaring me half to death, it felt as if I had a falling dream, so I jumped up as I awoke with my heart beating scarcely fast. My hand clenched my throat, that seemed like I just swallowed a ton of salt and I needed a glass of water. Swinging my feet over the bed, I tiptoed out of the room aware it had to be at least past midnight. It was hard to tell where I was going down the long dark hall, with only a faint light from the candle lit on one of the walls, all I was trying to find was the stairs to the kitchen. The floor beneath me was creaking to a slight, as I continued past a corner which I heard low voices and a small light in the bedroom. Of course I paused, listening to who it was. And I mean seriously it wasn't unlikely for me to be so nosey, so if I got caught, what did they really expect?

"Michelle tell me this instant if you took a sword from William's dagger collection."

"Mother no, I did not."

"You've had a past with violence, this is the whole reason we put you on medication. Did you take your pills?" What does that mean? A past with violence and medication.

"Mom I don't want to right now..." a voice that only could belong to Chelle's sounded behind the door.

"Come on, Michelle. You haven't taken them properly these past three months. Is it that boy?" Martha whispered.

"Yes. It's everything!" Chelle's tone began to get a bit louder which frightened me, though I stayed to eavesdrop.

"Well I'm talking to your doctor about this, its unhealthy." It sounded like martha was sincerely worried for her daughter. And I was curious as to what they meant, about doctors, and being unhealthy.

"Mom just get out!" Chelle screeched.

"Be quiet you're going to wake Ellie!" Martha shouted.

And that was when I heard a bottle of pills and glass slamming around in the room, with Chelle screaming that she wanted me out of the house. The door was about to open when I was pulled by my shirt into my dad's office.

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