Chapter Text
From the time Louis woke up this morning he could tell that today was going to be a bad one.
He generally begins every day with some varying degree of a heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach, however the two doses of medication he regularly takes suppresses his anxiety from stretching any farther than his own mind long enough for him to get up and actually start his day.
He swallowed down two thick capsules not even ten minutes after opening his eyes, the medicine leaving a bitter and synthetic taste at the back of his tongue before disappearing down his throat.
Taking the pills is the easy part; the waiting however, is what he hates the most.
When Louis first started taking his medication he would sometimes spend all morning waiting around to feel better and more like himself. Sometimes he’d just lie there staring at the clock, counting all the minutes that passed before he felt like he could breathe again, but that was years ago and now his system is so used to its routine that Louis feels immediate relief just from reaching for the bottle and opening it.
Now it only takes about fifteen minutes; fifteen long and excruciating minutes where Louis feels as though he is pinned down by the covers pulled tight across his body as he focuses on small, simple tasks such as breathing. His muscles and veins feel alive, buzzing under his skin with the overwhelming need to get up and take responsibility for the things he’s supposed to, but something a lot stronger keeps him lying there, immobilized and frozen with worry and fear. It’s like something is physically holding him down each time his brain tells him to move, and it makes him panic because the weight on top of his chest is so heavy that his lungs have to work twice as hard just to pull air in and push it back out.
Mornings always feel that way; every single one of them, crushing and terrifying until the big heavy thing gets tired of holding him down and begins to slink itself away from Louis’ body, slowly lifting itself and all of its suffocating energy up and away from him so that his chest can rise and fall at a much steadier pace. As more minutes pass Louis has to use less conscious effort to inhale and exhale, and by the time the heavy thing has risen up so far that Louis can no longer feel it, he is able to breathe again without even trying, his medication taking full effect by slowly coercing him to crawl out of bed and into his everyday life.
He doesn’t know why he feels like this every day. Louis’ life is no more stressful than anyone else’s that he knows, and yet he starts each day feeling like it’s all too much. His doctor says that sometimes chemical imbalances in the brain make people feel as though even the simplest of tasks are overwhelming. Doctors have been telling him this for years, but Louis is still baffled as why his brain is the one that goes into a panic at the thought of going to work or running errands round the city like everyone else. But these days Louis just takes his medication like he’s supposed to. He stopped questioning his chemical imbalances a long time ago.
Louis concentrates on himself in the mirror while he’s adjusting his hair. His eyes fall to his bedside table every few minutes as he mentally calculates how long it will be before he’ll need to take another dose. He feels alright for the most part, but his chest still feels a bit tight even though he took his medication nearly an hour ago. There are some days where the pressure never fully disappears, and that’s usually how Louis knows the day is going to be difficult to get through.
He takes his mother’s call at seven fifteen just like every other morning as he drinks his tea at the kitchen table. Her cheery greeting puts Louis at ease.
“Good morning, my love!”
“Hello,” Louis offers back, feeling a bit guilty for not matching her brightness, but he has never been a morning person, anxiety disorder or not.
“Wow. That awake, are you?” He can hear the amusement in her voice at his lack of enthusiasm. “How did you sleep?”
“Alright. Slept through the night, so.”
“Oh?” She asks, sounding distracted. He can hear his smallest siblings in the background, whining and complaining as his mother undoubtedly forces them to go finish getting ready for school. “That’s really good, Lou. And how are you today?”
Louis takes a large swallow of his tea before answering. “I’m alright,” he answers quietly. “How’s everything with you?”
She shushes his brother and sister, telling them to go get dressed again in a tone that leaves very little room for negotiation. When she comes back, the harshness in her voice has been replaced by concern. “Louis…you took your medication, right? You don’t sound like yourself...”
“Well, it’s before noon. I think I sound alright.”
His mother’s soft chuckles fill his ear. “That’s a good point. You always did enjoy a lie in. You used to give me absolute hell as a child trying to wake you up for school.” Usually Louis would at least crack a grin at something like that, but for some reason it’s hard this morning. His mother must notice because she’s no longer laughing. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay? You could always take the day off if you’re not feeling well or I could stop by before work if you need me to.” Louis can now hear her husband Dan in the background, his mother softly shushes him to turn her attention back to her son. “Louis? Did you hear me? I said I can come by if you-”
“I feel fine,” he assures her even though he’s not really convinced that he does. “Don’t come over, really. I’m leaving for work in a few minutes anyway and you’re busy enough without having to look after me.” The twins’ small voices carry through the receiver again followed by one of his other, older sisters as everyone in the Tomlinson-Deakin household converges into the kitchen for the start of their day. A couple of people shout hello to him out of nowhere and his mother makes an impatient sound, the background noise fading as she moves somewhere quieter.
“Louis, you’re not inconveniencing me or whatever it is you’re worried about. You’re my son and if you need me to come over I will.”
“I don’t need you to. I’m fine. I’ll take another pill later if I need to. I’ll be fine, I promise.”
She sighs when one of the twins calls out for her. Louis doesn’t know how she can be so many things to so many people when he struggles just to make it on time to his receptionist job each day.
“Well, only you know how you feel, I guess,” she says clearly having more to say on the matter, but taking Louis’ word for it. “I’ll call again tonight. Be good until then. Have a good day at work.”
“Okay. I will. You too.”
“And you better call me if you need anything before then. I’ve told you before, you’re not bothering me by needing me. I’m your Mum.”
“I know and I will.”
She sighs again after another of his siblings calls for her. “I have to go see what they want, but I love you. I’ll talk to you tonight.”
“Okay. I love you too.”
His conscience eats away at him after they hang up. He knows everything his mother said to him is true, but he still feels like a burden every time she has to interrupt her life to make sure her grown son is dealing with adulthood rather than being drowned by it.
Back when he was younger he had a lot of responsibility since she was a single mother. He had sisters to help take care of and grades that always seemed to be in decline no matter how much he studied or paid attention in class. His doctors have all said that it’s no wonder he often felt overwhelmed, being a teenager and assuming the role of second parent to himself and four little girls. Most people go through periods of high stress or anxiety that recede over time, but for some reason Louis’ never went away. It only got worse as he got older, even after he finished school and his mother settled down with her new husband, ultimately taking most of the load off of him.
His mother thought things would improve for all of them, but when they didn’t and Louis got so bad that other parts of his life started to be affected by his anxiety it was suggested by his doctor that he focus on himself and try living on his own. That, along with prescription drugs and all the support in the world from his family has gotten Louis to where he is now; an independent adult, constantly stumbling from day to day just trying to feel and seem normal like everyone else. The only thing is that he never truly feels like everyone else.
*
The first couple of hours that Louis is at work are as routine and uneventful as always. He greets people from behind his desk as they walk into the lobby of the firm. He answers their questions and directs them where to go when they aren’t sure, and he answers the phone, forwarding any difficult inquires or issues to another secretary who is far better suited to handle them.
The ringing of the phones and the constant swing of the double-glass doors don’t get to him until it’s almost lunchtime and each shrill note of the phone-line makes his heart rate pick up. A large man with a deep, hollow voice causes his chest to tighten when he bombards Louis with a series of questions as soon as he marches through the door talking on his phone. Louis takes a couple of deep breaths and tries to assist the man, but he’s impatient to get to a meeting and Louis’ fumbled attempts at helping him are doing nothing to put him at ease. He can feel the man losing what little patience he has with him when Mia, one of the other receptionists sees how tense the situation has become and walks over to gently redirect the man to her desk area instead.
She smiles at Louis, giving his shoulder a quick squeeze. “Hey, look,” she tilts her head at the big clock hanging on the opposite wall. “It’s almost twelve-thirty,” she grins. Louis nods, watching Mia’s long dark hair swing as she and the impatient man turn to walk to the other side of the lobby. His heartbeat slows down now that the cause of his stress has been removed, however there’s still a residual tightness lingering above his ribcage that makes him appreciate the time which Mia so kindly pointed out.
His eyes track the clock and the door for the next five minutes, willing time to move faster.
Since Louis has been living on his own for over a year, different times of the day have become significant for different reasons. He wakes up at six and takes his medication, his mother calls at seven-fifteen to make sure that he has taken said medication and hasn’t completely lost it, and every day at twelve-thirty his childhood friend Stan stops by to have lunch with him in the café across the street, partly to spend time with Louis, mostly to make sure he’ll make it to the end of the day.
All of these times are important to him because they’re like little checkpoints that Louis needs in order to make it through, especially on days like today where he feels so high-strung and jumpy that Stan’s presence causes him to sigh with relief.
“Hey there, Lou! You ready?” Stan heads straight to his desk and steals one of the pens from Louis’ jar with the firm’s logo on it. He slides it into his pocket as he smiles down at Louis, fumbling to clean up his area.
“Yeah, I am. Just- Just give me one second.”
His smile dims, silently studying Louis’ eyes when he catches something off about his response. Thankfully Stan doesn’t say anything about it and barrels on like he didn’t notice a thing. “Okay, sure. We better get going though. You know the café is always packed on Fridays.”
Louis nods, closing his laptop and getting up to follow Stan out onto the sidewalk.
The chicken sandwich and large slice of pie that Louis eats don’t do much in helping to ease his tension. He’s still a bit on edge from earlier, his eyes darting amongst the crowd of people in the café all checking their watches and complaining as they wait for the food they’ve ordered. The pressure on top of his chest has increased just by being here, but it’s not so bad that he can’t breathe. He thinks he would actually feel alright if it weren’t for the dozens of voices and loud sounds constantly echoing and reverberating around them.
Stan stops telling Louis about his plans for the evening after another woman raises her voice to get the cashier’s attention and the sharpness of it causes Louis to briefly close his eyes. Louis had thought he could make it until the end of work without taking another pill, but he’s struggling just sitting here and listening to other peoples’ stresses. There’s no way he’ll be able to take any real stress from his own life at this rate, so Louis digs around in his wallet and takes one out, swallowing it down with the last of his water.
Usually Louis will excuse himself to take his medication to save the person he’s with any awkwardness as he pops pills into his mouth out of nowhere. Stan looks around, frowning like he has only just noticed how crazy it is inside the café today. Louis wishes he could be that oblivious.
“Bad day?” Stan asks after the front door slams shut again, causing the bell above it to ring out.
“Kind of. Well….no, not really.” Sure Louis feels awful, but it could always be worse. Today really isn’t all that bad considering. “This morning wasn’t great, but I’ll be alright. The day is already half over.”
Stan’s eyes light up at that. “Yes, it is! And that means the weekend is almost here! Maybe we can watch the game on Saturday if you’re up for it. It could be just us if you want. Maybe we could hang out at yours,” he suggests.
They both know that Louis is never truly feeling up for it, but he wouldn’t mind spending extra time with his friend outside of their quick lunch breaks. At least it’ll be quieter at his place. “Yeah. That sounds like fun.”
Louis smiles back at Stan, but the door of the café slams shut, causing Louis eyelids to flutter closed again. He feels Stan place a hand on top of his when he blinks them back open.
“Let’s go, yeah? Lunch is almost over anyway.”
Louis is more than happy to lead the way out.
*
He was able to make it through work without much incident. He didn’t have to deal with anybody too difficult and Mia came by to chat with him for a few minutes while they weren’t busy, so his workday turned out to be pretty decent. The ride home on the train however, is where Louis’ good fortune started to dissipate.
The screaming baby a couple of seats behind him did nothing but exactly that; scream. She cried for the entire twenty minute ride with every bump and jolt of the train causing her to cry ever louder, which in turn caused Louis’ gut to hollow as he tried to focus on something else other than the noise and the people crowded in all around him. When he finally got back out onto the street, his nerves were so shot that the tightness in his chest had returned at almost full strength.
His doctor prescribes him extra pills to account for bad days when Louis needs more that the two he takes in the morning and the one that he takes at night. He takes several deep breaths once he’s home to try and get a handle on himself and avoid taking another random dose like he had to at lunch. It’s barely even six o’clock, but he thinks he can make it until he goes to bed.
Louis decides to order food in since today has been so rough on him. He doesn’t want to put himself in another situation that leaves him feeling more anxious than he already does, so he gets pizza brought right to his door so that he doesn’t even have to put on shoes.
After dinner he tries to find things to do that will occupy his time, but no matter what show he watches or room he decides to tidy up he’s still very much aware of the restlessness he feels stirring inside of him. He glances at the clock again after he gives up on reading his book, sighing when he sees that it’s nowhere near time for his mother’s nightly check-up at ten-thirty or his regularly scheduled dose of medication at eleven.
He feels better from earlier, but the waiting around is what has made him so aware of time seeming to drag by. It’s moments like these where Louis has to go to great lengths for distractions from his own mind. He had thought about taking Stan up on his offer to meet him at the pub, but he knows better than to think he could handle that much going on around him with such short notice. He doesn’t want to bother his mother for something as stupid as him being bored and antsy about the hour hand of the clock not moving fast enough, so he convinces himself to get up and go for a walk to fill up some of the free time he has to sit around and worry about virtually nothing.
*
The park a few blocks down from his street is always a good distraction on nights like this. It’s a few minutes’ walk to the entrance and then past the tennis courts near the gate, but the wide expanse of fresh green grass is what makes his chest rise and fall with the first deep breath he has taken in hours.
He walks along the edge of the meadow until the manicured trees become dense and unkempt like some jungle that the city forgot. He steps onto an overgrown trail that’s only somewhat visible in the dark, but Louis has been here so many times that he maneuvers past the thick brush without any trouble.
He can hear the running of the small stream just up ahead where the small patch of woods ends. It’s shallow, with the deepest part barely reaching Louis’ knees if he stands in it, but the gentle sloshing sounds of the water against the rocks is peaceful where Louis sits right on the bank with his knees tucked up to his chest.
Sitting here is the best remedy Louis has besides his medication for the way his mind seems to dwell on the things he can’t control. He picks up a twig beside him and picks off the leaves to the soft sounds going on around him. This place has been his haven for over a year, always providing an island of calm in the ocean of constant anxiety he’s constantly wading through. Since moving out on his own, countless hours have been spent with Louis doing nothing but sitting right here in this spot, doing nothing and thinking of nothing as he watches the cool water flow by.
Louis isn’t sure how of much time has passed when the moon starts to peek through the clouds. He was sure that the few raindrops he felt when he first arrived were the precursor to something much heavier, but luckily the rain held off long enough for him to have a few moments of quiet.
He sighs, knowing it’s getting late by the numbness in his toes and ass from sitting in one position for so long. He stands, tossing one last twig into the stream before dusting off his joggers and pulling on his hoodie over his shirt again.
He walks along the stream this time instead of heading straight through the trees and back to the grassy area. He kicks a few rocks into the water as he nears the slight bend in the stream, pausing when he hears a couple of voices from the other side of it.
Out of all the times Louis has come here, only once or twice has he had company, usually in the form of a couple of teenagers drinking and laughing. Louis walks a bit further, squinting past the branches hanging down to see how many of tonight’s visitors are already drunk enough to be splashing around in the water, but the scene he happens upon is a not at all what he expected.
Instead of a couple of giggling, intoxicated kids kicking water around he finds three grown men engaged in some sort of conversation that has one of them frustratedly pulling at his own blonde hair. The situation looks tense as one of the other men sharply gestures to the black Range Rover pulled alongside the bank. He looks just as exasperated as the blonde, cradling his face in his hands as the tallest of the three hangs his head and does the exact same thing. Their argument picks back up after a few beats of silence, but Louis can’t exactly make out what is being said over the sound of the water.
Louis realizes that getting closer to hear is beyond intrusive, but he simply can’t help himself as he edges a bit closer, staying just within the protection of the trees so as not to be seen. He keeps edging closer until he can make out their conversation which seems intense, but mostly like some kind of debate between friends.
“You always do the stupidest fucking things, I swear to God,” the short haired one shouts at the blonde.
“I thought it was deep enough here!” the blonde argues back. “Don’t fucking get mad at me because-”
The short-haired man barks a sarcastic laugh at him. “Don’t get mad? Don’t get mad? Are you fucking joking right now? You’re lucky if either of us ever speaks to you again if we actually make it out of this without going to fucking prison.” The blonde’s face falls at that, his mouth falling open at the man’s words.
“Li,” he tries with a broken voice, but the man turns away from him, turning instead to the tallest man who has yet to say anything.
“What do you think?” he asks, still completely blocking out the blonde.
The tallest man pays little attention to their squabble. He shrugs standing at an angle with his hood up, so Louis can’t see his face. He throws a quick glance to the Range Rover parked beside them. He gravely shakes his head, but doesn’t meet the others’ eyes.
“I’m not sure, but we can’t do it here. The body wouldn’t make it far….it’s not deep enough. We could try a bit further down past the city, but.” Louis’ heart stops dead in his chest as the reality of what he’s witnessing sinks in. The three men start talking again, but this time Louis doesn’t want to hear what they’re saying. His stomach feels leaden, realizing that his curiosity has led him to be standing in the presence of three murderers as they argue over how to dispose of the body. His blood runs cold as he slowly backs away into the trees to remove himself from the situation.
He holds his breath as he leaves, taking one careful step at a time, but one of his heels comes down to snap a twig in half and the quick sound causes him and the three men to freeze in place.
“What was that?” the tallest one asks, his neck craning to see past the trees. They all look in Louis’ direction, but his clothing is dark enough and the branches are so thick that thankfully he’s hidden from sight. No one moves for the longest time, until the short-haired man decides that it was nothing.
“It was probably just an animal or something,” he reasons, but the look on his face says that he doesn’t quite believe it. The tall man doesn’t seem convinced either, taking a couple of wary steps towards the trees, but when he can’t see or hear anything else he stops.
“I think it’s alright,” he says to no one in particular.
The blonde’s cheeks regain some color from the confirmation, but they drain back to a sickly hue when a loud ringtone starts blaring out from the pocket of Louis’ hoodie.
Louis feels his face burning as he fumbles trying to shut it off, but his fingers feel useless as they slip over the screen and the music continues to play. He snatches the phone out of his pocket, catching a glimpse of his mother’s picture on the screen right before he succeeds in silencing it. Louis pockets the phone again, his lungs on fire from holding his breath as he watches the initial shock on the blonde’s face change to alarm, and then finally fear. Louis doesn’t hear him shout the order, ‘get them’, but the blonde says it with so much force that Louis can see the words being formed on his lips right before he turns to run.
He didn’t stick around long enough to see anyone move from where they were standing along the stream, but he hears the steady thump of fast footsteps behind him as he maneuvers through the trees. He moved further down than he realized earlier, and now he’s stumbling through the undergrowth away from the trail with no clear direction of where he’s going. He trips once on a raised root, but the speed with which Louis picks himself up helps propel him through the small wooded area and out to the open field of green, ignoring every plea of stop he hears being shouted at him.
Louis runs until his legs and chest burn, and yet he can still hear heavy footsteps getting increasingly faster and louder the further he gets. The wind is knocked out of him when he’s finally caught, his entire body crashing to the ground when two pairs of arms wrap around his middle to bring him down.
He tastes blood his mouth from the way his chin hit the ground. He can feel it leaking from his lip as he pleads to be let go, but no one is listening to him.
“Please!” Louis begs as he’s flipped to his back. “Please! I didn’t see anything, I swear!”
His phone rings again but now it’s a few feet away, displaced from his pocket after being dragged down like some sort of animal. He makes a feeble attempt at grabbing for it, realizing too late that it’s out of reach. He knows it’s his mother calling again because he missed her first call. Louis never misses her calls. He’s always counting down the seconds before she checks in on him and is right there waiting to talk to her with the phone already in his hand. His chest seizes up when the ringtone stops and then starts right back up again, his mother clearly panicking now that Louis has missed more than one.
All of the pressure from this morning is multiplied as Louis struggles to bring air into his lungs. The short-haired man and the blonde use their weight to hold him down, but they don’t realize that his struggling is the result of him not being able to breathe rather than trying to escape.
A harsh wheezing noise leaves his throat, and now the heavy thing on his chest is alive and suffocating him while the weight of the two very real men pinning him down causes his vision to blur around the edges. He tries to reach for his own chest, but his hands are now being held by his sides. He opens his mouth to say something to his attackers, but he can’t get it out.
He hasn’t had an attack like this in a long time, but Louis can tell he’s about to lose consciousness at any moment when he has yet to pull any air into his lungs. He tries to take in a breath again and fails miserably, but then suddenly the tall man is standing in his line of vision.
“Guys,” he says, watching Louis with concern. “Guys, something’s wrong with him,” he says again. The other two are so busy arguing that they don’t hear. The tall man’s eyes turn panicked after a while of watching Louis gag on nothing but air. “He can’t breathe! He’s not fucking breathing!” he shouts. The man does something with his arms and not even one second later, Louis is free.
It’s like being drawn from a well of water when he’s able to roll onto his side and inhale the sweet grass beneath him. His lungs are still tight and bound inside of his chest, but no longer having the extra weight of the two men makes it easier for Louis to breathe, even by just a fraction. He’s still gasping for air when the tall man reaches out for him.
“Hey,” he grabs Louis by the shoulders, “Hey!” he shouts when Louis still won’t look at him. He forces Louis onto his back again, but his expression is still alarmed when Louis’ breathing doesn’t improve in this position. “What’s wrong? Tell me what’s wrong!”
Louis tries several times to get it out, but only succeeds in panting a few choppy words. “Medication…my pills… I- I need... my chest,” he tries between gasps, and the tall man’s eyes turn scared.
He whips his head up to look at his friends but they look just as lost as he does. “There’s something wrong with him. He takes medicine. Fuck.”
Louis gasps again, uselessly clutching at his own throat like it’ll help, but he knows from experience that it won’t.
“Do you have any of it on you?” he asks.
Louis shakes his head no, feeling the beginnings of tears start to prick his throat. He’s going to be murdered in a field in the middle of the night and no one will ever find his body because he’s going to be floating down a river next to the other person these men are trying to get rid of.
He already couldn’t breathe and now he’s choking as hot tears start running down his cheeks. The tall man sits him up, crouching down in front of him so that they’re level as he holds Louis upright. “Hey,” he says a lot calmer this time even though his eyes still show his alarm. “I need you to calm down for me, alright? I need you to breathe. Breathe like me, watch,” he says, taking such a deep breath that Louis can see his chest expand beneath the hoodie he’s wearing.
He tries to mimic the smooth even breath, but Louis’ comes out short and choked and not at all like his. The man lightly squeezes his shoulders, encouraging Louis to try again, but he still can’t do it.
“Okay, just look at me.” The man places a hand against one of Louis’ cheeks to make sure he’s doing as he’s told. He places his other hand flat on Louis’ chest and asks him to try and make it move when he breathes.
The easy rise and fall pattern that the man desires from Louis isn’t as smooth as he’d probably like, but after a few attempts Louis gets it.
“There we go,” the man praises him, “One more just like that, come on.” Louis copies the way the man inhales and soon enough he’s pulling another slow lungful of air into his body. “That feels good, yeah? Just keep breathing with me. Keep pushing my hand.”
Louis doesn’t know how long it takes before he’s able to breathe at a normal pace again, but it feels like forever when the man drops his hand from Louis’ chest, now satisfied that he’s not going to asphyxiate. He leaves his hand on his cheek though, using his thumb to wipe away any remaining tears and a bit of blood from his chin.
“Better?” he asks with his palm still lingering on his skin.
Louis nods, marveling at the way he can still feel pressure on his chest, but is no longer gasping for air. He’s able to focus on other things now like the way the man’s hood has fallen back to reveal a dark beanie on his head and a rivulet of long dark curls cascading out of it.
“Good,” he grins, causing a dimple to form in the hollow of his cheek as he allows his other hand to fall away from him.
Louis isn’t sure why, but for some reason he actually believes that this man is happy he’s alive. It’s kind of weird for a murderer to be so concerned about the wellbeing of a future victim, but Louis can almost sense his joy.
Louis comes crashing back down to reality when the blonde speaks up out of nowhere.
“Great. He’s feeling better, but now what the hell do we do with him?”
His words are enough to make Louis suck in a sharp breath.
The short-haired man is quiet this time as he contemplates. Oddly enough, it’s the tall man who speaks first.
“We should probably let him go,” he says staring right into Louis’ eyes as he does so.
The blonde scoffs, “What? Fuck no, we’re not letting him go. Are you insane? We do that and we’re done. He’ll run straight to the police. Fuck that. He stays.”
Louis’ words seem to have evaporated from his mouth so he violently shakes his head to show that he most definitely would not tell the police anything. If they let him go, he wouldn’t tell another soul for as long as he lives.
The short haired-man, Li, Louis remembers, turns to frown at him. “We’re already working on a murder and now you want to add abduction to the fucking list?” he asks incredibly. “You can’t just hold people captive against their will, Niall.”
“Well there are only two fucking options here!” Niall yells. “It’s either let him go and get caught or hold him and make sure he doesn’t say anything.” Louis sends up a prayer, grateful they haven’t yet figured out the third option for guaranteeing his silence. Like the blonde can hear his thoughts he revises his statement. “I mean…there is a third option, but...”
“But what?” the short-haired man snaps. “Of course there’s not a third option, what the fuck is wrong with you?”
“I’m not saying we’re going to do it, I was just pointing out the fact that it’s there. Jesus Christ, Li. Lighten up.”
The other man’s neck is so tense and red that a thick, pulsing vein is visible from where Louis sits on the ground. “Lighten up? Niall, look at where we are right now because of you! I swear to God, if-”
Louis’ stomach is in his throat listening as the two men talk about him as if he’s not even there. The only one who seems to even remember Louis’ presence at all is the one still crouched down and silently watching him. He stands suddenly, shutting down the others’ argument as quickly as it began.
“He’s coming with us,” he announces. The other two raise their eyebrows in surprise at his statement, but they don’t look like they’re going to go against him.
“Okaaay…” the blonde drags out. He gestures for his friends to come closer, lowering his voice and turning his back to give them some kind of privacy, but Louis can still hear. “He comes with us and then what? We still can’t let him go. He’s a witness.”
“He’s right,” Li agrees. “It doesn’t matter when we release him. He’s still a threat.”
For some reason the tall man comes to his defense, “He’s scared out of his fucking mind, Li. Do you really think he’s going to go running to the cops right now?”
They go back and forth about him for a long time until Niall lets out a huff of frustration.
“Look, everyone knows the first rule of doing something like this is never leave any witnesses. This guy is a fucking witness and we can’t let him just walk away from this.”
Li casts his eyes down in silent agreement, but says nothing while Niall and the tall man have a wordless stare off.
“This shouldn’t even be a fucking debate. He comes with us,” the man says again, this time with more authority. They all shift to glance at Louis where he’s still frozen stiff on the ground. “And no one is going to touch him…” He directs his words right at Niall and Louis feels immediate relief hearing them. He feels like he needs to grovel at the tall man’s feet and thank him. Louis nearly even smiles until the he finishes his statement and the bit of hope he possessed fizzles down into the pit of his stomach. “We take care of the body first, then we can decide how to deal with him.” Louis feels the blood drain from his face when they all turn in his direction.