I wake up to the smell of cologne,wanting to stay in this warmth and stench for a while and relish in the comfort that it brings. But I end up shooting up in bed full of fear because I don't know what time it is and I can't remember why it would smell like a man right now. But I slowly realize I'm in Louis' room and it's a Saturday, making me lay back down with a heavy sigh and relax my fatigued muscles. But I should get up soon. He could get up any minute and come in here.

But it's only six and without an alarm, he usually wakes up at around nine or ten.

So I sit up again and rub my sleepy eyes to attempt to get some sleep out of them. I don't even have a toothbrush or clothes here so I should probably just go back to Harry and Diane's.

I get up and simply wash my face in the bathroom, put my hair up in a bun and then slip on my shoes before walking downstairs as quiet as I can. When I get down there, he isn't on the couch, making me curse out loud. Where is he? I need to make sure he's okay first.

I sigh heavily.

"Hey, morning." I hear his voice from behind me, making me jump and turn around quickly. He's already out of the clothes he was in last night, he probably even came to where I was sleeping in his room to take a shower.

"Hey. I just wanted to stay because I didn't want anything to happen but I'm leaving now, if your okay and everything, mentally." I say, speaking quickly.

He nods and grows a small smile,still looking tired but fresher. He's wearing a blue Adidas sweatshirt and sweats, which I like. I like when he looks laid back and more loose. I smile to myself slightly.

"So, are you going to listen to what I said?"

"About what?"

"Seeing someone about yourself." I tell him, being blunt about it.

"Maybe."

"No, you have to."

"Why?"

"Because if you don't then you won't have the mental stability for Thomas and I don't want to have to leave you alone in this big house, but I'm going to have to if your not okay." I say, shaking my head.

"Okay." He says.

I purse my lips before turning and walking to the door.

"Wait Rauline." He says, making me turn around again to see him right in front of me. He embraces me quickly and suddenly, taking me aback. His arms are around my shoulders and our bodies are pressed together. "I um, I hope you have a good day." He says softly in my ear before letting go of me and backing away. I swallow the imaginary lump in my throat and nod before turning around and walking out of the house.

LOUIS

I sit down on the couch and set my laptop on my lap before searching up therapist offices. I'll do this. I don't know how much it will help me, but, if she's recommending it, I'll try it.

All I've heard all that someone does in those sessions is sit down on a couch and talk to someone you don't even. The person doesn't even know you or what you've done or been through. I sigh in annoyance as I look through the Google searches. I click on the first website and a website with a picture of sn older woman's face being the first thing you see.

I print out a page containing the address and the number before retrieving it from the printer. I then call the babysitter and wait for the teenager arrive. He must be rich from the amount of times I call him, but he can't be complaining.

When he does, I leave instantly, and drive fast down the road to get to the place.

I wonder what Rauline is doing now and if she's okay. I hope she's okay. I want her to be around people that make her happy. But Harry and Diane seem to make her seem extremely happy while I can't do that at all. I don't know Diane much, but she seems like a sweet woman. Harry and her have been friends for a long ass time.

When I reach the building, I see that it's quaint and small, hidden behind bushes. I'm not sure if I should take that as a good or bad thing. Good because not a lot of people know about it so it be full or bad because a lot of people do know about it and since it's so fucking small I'll be freaking out because of the tight space.

I sigh heavily, feeling the anxiety already rushing through my body. I put my hand on the rusty door knob and walk inside. It smells like mold instantly, making me cringe. And it's completely empty inside.

I walk towards a window that has a sign that says sign in and see a woman behind it. I smile at her politely. "You have an appointment?" She asks, voice deep.

"No, am I supposed to?"

"No." She sighs with a roll of her eyes. "Considering no one makes appointments here anymore you could just sign in and walk through that red door over there."

"Okay." I mumble, picking up a pen and signing my name on a piece of paper. I put down the pen before turning to the bright red door and walking through it. A short corridor stands behind it and I walk down it before turning to the only door that is in my left. At first I knock.

Then I hear a quiet "come in" so I walk inside.

A short woman, looking exactly like the picture I had seen on the website, looks at me with a wide smile. Bright red lipstick paints her lips and her bleached blonde hair sits in a messy side bun on top of her head. She looks to be at least in her forties.

"Hi, I'm here for a quick, one hour session." I tell her. "I guess." I mumble shortly after.

"Well just sit down on that couch right there, tell me your name, age, and just everything about you." She smiles. She sounds like a smoker while this room also smells like mounds of ashes were just dumped in here. Although, I wouldn't mind a smoke right now.

I sit down on the couch, slumping my back with a heavy sigh. I'm having major second thoughts about coming to this office. But it seems private and quiet, so I don't want to complain to much right now.

"Um, my name is Louis Tomlinson." I tell the woman. She nods and writes something down on a piece of lined paper that is clipped onto a clip board. "I'm twenty-four."

"Whens your birthday Louis?"

"December twenty fourth."

"That's just before Christmas, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"Interesting."

I furrow my eyebrows. Okay?

"What else do you want to know?" I ask.

"Anything else you want to tell me besides your problems?"

"Not really." I shrug.

"Then no." The woman smiles. "What seems to be your problem today, Louis?" She asks me.

"My wi-" I stop, clearing my throat awkwardly. "My ex-wife made me come here because I don't talk abut what's going on inside my head enough and she thinks it's eventually going to make me go crazy."

"It will."

"I have self control, I don't think it will." I sigh.

"Has anything...different happened to you since you always hold everything inside?"

"Um...I don't think so." I tell her. "Actually, I've been having panic attacks ever since last year."

Her eyebrows raise and she moves closer to me in her rolling chair. "Really? When do you have these panic attacks?" She asks.

I feel uncomfortable about the fact she's reacting this way to what I'm telling her. It's like my life is her damn movie. I sigh heavily and look away from the woman, frowning in irritation.

"I don't know. Like, whenever my thoughts start to get too much I start to breath quicker and my muscles contract and I get really hot."

"When do your thoughts get too much? What triggers the thoughts?"

"I just do it myself. They happens at random moments."

"And how often do the happen?"

"A lot."

"Can you give me a specific number per day?"

"Five I guess." I say, rubbing my temple. She's overwhelming me with these damn questions that I don't want to answer whatsoever. This is why I don't talk about this shit. It makes me uncomfortable. I shouldn't have come here. No matter how much I want to get better for her, this won't help. "More like eight actually." I change my answer, knowing that this happens a lot since I sit down in silence and think so much. Literally everywhere. At work, where I have to escape my cubicle and run inside of a bathroom stall to calm down. At home while I'm cooking, cleaning, sleeping, showering. I can't finish most tasks because of how long it lasts.

I play with Thomas way more because of this after noticing I should simply just distract myself.

"Have you ever tried distracting yourself?" The woman asks, as if reading my thoughts but not wanting to be obvious about it.

"I play with my three year old."

"Is that it?"

"Yes. Is that not enough?"

"Three year olds get tired and they'll want to sleep. What're you going to do for the remainder of the day?"

"I don't know." I shrug.

"Ever tried reading a book?"

"I can't concentrate on that." I shrug. "So yes. I've tried." I snap.

"You seem to be a little angry too. Are you, Louis?"

"Not really." I tell her.

"Are you sure?"

I'm angry at a lot of things but I'm not an angry person. I'm not angry with the world. I'm angry with my parents that have put pressure on me my whole life but has always said I'm still not good enough, my weak-minded self, my fate that is completely inevitable.

"I'm not angry...I'm frustrated." I tell her.

"You should do something physical then. Do you work out?"

"I used to, but I work so much now."

"That must be why your so skinny." She smiles.

I guess. But I don't respond.

"Try boxing. Exercising makes people feel better and boxing releases a lot of stress held inside. When you punch that bag with no mercy, your letting out a lot. Maybe even grunt while doing it to let out even more. You know what I mean?"

I sigh. "Yeah. I think so. I'll try." I shrug again.

"Alright good. And I would love for you to come back after you have. Now, is there anything else you'd like to talk about?" She asks.

"Um." I bite my lip.

"Looks like your holding back. Don't hold back in here. Your going to go insane, just like me and your ex-wife have said. "

"Yeah, yeah, I know." I snap, nodding quickly.

"Do you think some of your frusteration is because of your wife?"

"When she left me, yeah."

"What exactly happened?" The woman asks.

"The reason I came here to you. I never talk about my feelings to anyone and I stupidly and selfishly ended up letting out all my built up...anger...on her. But I've been trying to get her back and she refuses to come back because first, she doesn't believe a word I say when I tell her I miss her and I want her and second, she doesn't want to go back in the relationship again just to have the same thing happen again."

"Sounds like you damaged her then, Louis."

I freeze in my position on the couch and look up at the older woman, glaring at her. "What?" I whisper.

"You damaged her." She says, grinning slightly as if she's an evil villas and her only task is to ruin my life. "It's only the truth but it seems like you can't take that."

I feel my heart at my throat.

"Don't say that. I-I didn't do shit to her." I say, trying to convince myself now. I swallow thickly. "Don't try and put things in my head." I snap.

"But you did. And you know it. You don't want to admit but you know you did. And...it probably isn't even the best idea to try and get her back, want to know why?"

I don't say anything.

"Because the person who damaged the other, won't ever be able to fix them again. You'll just damage her even more until she finally breaks."

I furrow my eyebrows and look down at my hands. They're shaking. Not here. Not now. I am not showing this woman her words are effecting me negatively.

"I'm being blunt Louis, simply because you need to know the truth so you could finally put your mind at piece at what you should do in life. Maybe you should...move on? Find someone else. Love makes people get distracted as well, ya know?"

"Stop saying that." I spit. This woman and her have both told me to move on but I can't. "Stop telling me to move on."

This damn therapist doesn't know half of what Rauline and I have been through together.

"Okay Louis." She sighs. "How about this? You try those methods of letting out your obvious anger, find someone else maybe on an online dating site? Just keep distracting yourself. You'll eventually forget her."

Not even alcohol can let me forget her. Not even the touch of someone else's lips on mine can let me forget the taste of Rauline's. Not even the feel of someone else's perfect, soft skin can let me forget the feel of hers. Not even he brightest most beautiful smile on this earth can get hers out of my mind.

I stand up from the couch quickly and walk out. I more storm out and dash back outside, rushing to get back into my car and sit down with a heavy, frustrated sigh.

I grip the steering wheel tightly, staring out the windshield in pure, deadly silence. I feel my eyes burning, a lump forming in my throat. I feel like throwing up. I feel like punching and kicking myself.

I let out a sudden, frustrated growl and bash my forehead against the steering wheel, closing my eyes at the same time. My shoulders begin to shake as quiet sobs escape past my dry lips.

What the fuck am I doing? Why am I fucking sitting here fucking crying? I'm an idiot.

"I'm sorry." I whisper. I don't know who I'm really saying this to. Maybe to everyone, even myself.

I fail everyone. I failed my parents, my wife,I'm even failing my three year old son by letting this take me over. I failed Harry, my best friend. I up and left him because of my job that I just had to do because of how much I wanted to finally get my father's approval, which I never got once.

My emotions, that are so unbearably strong. They're like demons taking over my damn body and I can't seem to drown them.

They're taking me over. My demons are taking me over and I don't know how to stop them.

I pick my head up to look out the windshield again, my face expressionless and dry tears on my cheeks.

I suck in a shaky breath before letting it out and wipe off my face with my sleeves.

I then come out of the parking lot and begin to drive on the street again.

RAULINE

"Hey, where were you last night?" Diane asks when I come out of the bedroom and into the living room to sit beside her on the couch. It's only eight and Harry is put at an interview.

"Um, I was at Louis'."

"Oh. Well, are you okay?" Diane asks. I blink.

"Yeah. I'm fine. I'm worried, though." I tell her, now comfortable telling this woman things. She's a good friend. I stare at the TV screen blankly, heart racing. I hope he's okay. I hope he's doing something that he isn't regretting.

I should go back and see if he's okay. See if Thomas is okay.

Diane turns off the television and turns to me. "What's up, boo?" She says, smiling slightly. I look at her and send a small smile back.

"Louis' been worrying me."

"How so?" She asks, sincerity in her tone.

I suddenly hear my phone ring as it sits on the couch. I look down quickly to see Louis' name on the screen. I pick up the phone quickly and look at Diane. "It's him." I tell her.

"Answer." She says, widening her eyes.

I look away and answer quickly before putting the phone to my ear. "Hello." I say, looking down at my lap as I pick at my chipped nail polish anxiously.

"Hi." He says, voice sounding soft and scratchy.

"What's up?" I ask him, biting down on my bottom lip.

"Can I ask you a question?"

My breath hitches. "Um...yeah okay."

It's silent for a few seconds. "Was I abusive?"

I furrow my eyebrows. "Abusive, how?" I ask, speaking quietly.

"Verbally." He breathes.

I don't respond right away but part my lips and contemplate my answer.

"And be honest, please."

"I'm not sure, Louis."

"Did I make you cry constantly because of what I said? Did I make you want to run away? Did I make you want to die?"

His questions rattle my mind suddenly and I have to soak them all in before answering. "You made me angry and sad, but that's it."

"Are you sure that's it?"

"Um." I sigh. "Sometimes I wanted to leave you."

"Okay."

"Why are you asking me this?"

"I think you should come over and get Thomas, Rauline. As soon as you can."

"Why, Louis?" I ask, standing up quickly. "Are you having another panic attack?"

"I think so. I'm not sure, but just get him." He stammers.

What is happening to him?

I turn to look at Diane when I stand in front of the front door and she shoos me with wide eyes, telling me to go. I exit the condo quickly and rush to my car.

When I don't hear him talking anymore, I take the phone off my ear to see he hung up.