Bottled Up.

Kaleb sat at his Dad's grave again. Small smile played on his lips. It smelt of spring. The cemetery's trees had blossomed with flowers of white, pink, and purple. The rain had washed away the pollen in the air that made Kaleb sneeze. And the grass was still damp against Kaleb's knees as he knelt down. Once again placing flowers on the ledge.

"Hey Daddy." He greeted. Despite Kaleb's nearly 16 years of age, he always called Louis, Daddy. Not papa, not Father. Daddy. It was all he recognized him as. And he was afraid if he changed the name then maybe Louis wouldn't like it. So, Daddy is how he stayed. "I went out driving with Dad today." Kaleb informed. He still smiled at the thought of nearly kill-...erm giving his Dad a heart attack as he rode with him only a few hours ago. His Dad loved him very much. And Kaleb knew he was still struggling with the loss. Especially when Kaleb watched his face deflate if he came home with white roses in his hands and telling him 'He was going to see Daddy, wanna come?' To which The 40 year old would often decline. Rarely accepting. He preferred to go on his own. When he didn't have to worry about upsetting his son. Or making him feel guilty for making him come only to have him sob hysterically at the husband he lost just 6 years ago. It felt like days ago he got the call and letter.

"Dad freaked out quite a bit, but you would've done the same probably." The teen stated picking at the green grass. It needed to be mowed. But who was he to say something like that. He obviously wouldn't do it. "I talked to Caitlyn today. I think I'm gonna ask her to formal." Kaleb smiled remembering the adorable girl in his Spanish class with braces on her teeth and light blush always coating her cheeks. Her hazel eyes lit up the boy's day. And she was even more of a cutie, because she was little. Size wise. She wasn't stuck up like other girls either. She was funny. And Louis would love her if they could ever meet. "Dad was trying to warn me of the whole sex talk thing too. It went something of a sigh and me covering my ears because I've had health class for the past 3 years." Kaleb grinned. He could practically hear Louis laughing. Harry was always awkward with parental situations. And Louis would always tease him for it. And Kaleb never understood why. He though his dad was fine with teaching him how to ride a bike. Harry always being the one to follow him and hold onto the handle bars when Kaleb was nearly 8. Louis just wanted him to be free to be a kid.

"So... I got honors again. And I told you how I finished middle school with high marks a while ago. I should've brought you the copy of it so you could see it." Kaleb was accompanied by a warm breeze. The 16 year old smiling at the thought of his father making a presence. He knew he was there. It was like he could feel it. He knew Louis was always there. When he was screaming and crying over the loss, when he was spending time with his dad, at school. He was his angel. Everyone knew that. "I miss you Daddy..." He whispered tracing his fingers over Louis name birthday and stopping at his date of death. He sighed pulling his legs to his chest. Sadness forming in the put if his stomach as well as tears springing to his crystal blue eyes. Just like Louis'. Always like Louis'. With another sigh and a wipe to his eyes. "Well I better walk home before it gets dark and Dad starts to wonder. He'll come soon Daddy. He misses you a lot too." Kaleb stood up, brushing off his baggy chinos to rid any grass or and dirt. "Love you." He whispered running his fingers over the cool stone. Kaleb shoved his hands into his pockets as he walked down the familiar path exiting the cemetery. Past the big tree and down the short cut that lead close to home.

Within 20 minutes, Kaleb arrived at home. Seeing his dad curled up on the couch. Asleep underneath the blanket of the British Flag in reminder of Louis. Harry looked distressed and Kaleb just simply sent a sad smile to the subtle figure before going upstairs.

Kaleb laid down on his bed, tucking his head into his arms and sighing. Before he knew it, he was crying. He always had these moments when he spent time at the cemetery. His tears dripped onto his forearms. He was so lost in his emotions, he didn't hear Harry get up and come up the stairs. Nor did he hear him opening his bedroom door. But he certainly felt his Dad's massive hands go around his shoulders and pull him up into a hug from behind. Kaleb snapped up rubbing his eyes and stiff in his dad's grip.

"You okay?" Harry quizzed the boy. Kaleb turned towards his dad. His burning watery eyes narrowing.

"When do you expect me to ever be okay Dad?" He stated firmly. Harry was silent staring at his son's blue eyes looking for a sign of something. And Kaleb did the same. But he knew exactly what he was going to say. "I don't know what to do anymore!" He said rather loudly and ending in a trickling tear that slowly dripped down his cheek. "You think your the only one who still misses him. Yeah I was little, but that's no excuse Dad!" Kaleb snapped.

"K, I never said I was the only one who missed him."

"That's how you act Dad!" He snapped again. Harry was silent and still. "You act like You never got to say goodbye, I didn't either! I never will! But you don't give enough of a damn just to visit him!" Harry's eyes clouded.

"It's not that easy Kaleb." He murmured. Kaleb rolled his eyes. "I give a damn." The teen stood up away from his Dad. The boy was getting more and more intimidating. He was slowly climbing his way up to his Harry's height. Making it harder to have an argument without being intimidated the least. "Kaleb-"

"Don't Kaleb me! Just stop! Visit him! For god sakes stop sitting around doing nothing you've been grieving for years!" Kaleb's voice was raising more and more octaves.

"It's not that easy Kaleb! You wouldn't understand. Your still to young." Harry told the 16 year old.

"I'm not to fucking young!"

"Don't curse at me!"

"Then get the out of my room Dad and don't come back in either!" He screamed his face turning red. Harry stared at him before leaving his room and moving into his own. He glanced at the dark room. Curtains closed as always and murky atmosphere. He moved over to Louis' side of the bed and rolled himself up in the covers. The smell of his cologne was gone. Or the smell of him at all. Coming home or leaving home. The scent of him sat in a bottle on the night stand. Occasionally Harry would sniff the cologne, chances are he'd buy more anyways. He bought a new one every year. Because that's what Louis had always asked for Christmas. That. A few sheets piano pieces and he was fine. His family was his present. His boys.

Harry pulled Louis' pillow into his arms squeezing it with a sigh.

"Tell me what to do Louis. I don't know what to do anymore." Harry could feel the drip of salty tears sliding down from his eyes and falling onto Louis' pillow. And that was the first night Harry felt that lonely since Louis died.