(A/N) JUST FOUND IT NECESSARY TO POINT OUT THAT WHILE I'M PLANNING LOUIS AND ELEANOR'S ENGAGEMENT PARTY IN THIS STORY, ZAYN AND PERRIE ARE PROBABLY PLANNING THEIRS IN REAL LIFE I'M SO DONE OKAY BYE HAPPY READING. 

* * * 

*Charlotte's POV*

I was somewhat awake when the overwhelming glare of the sun found its way straight onto my face. Groaning, I grasped the blanket in between my fingers and pulled it over my head, submerging myself into the Spring scent of the sheets.

"Rise and shine, sleeping beauty!" Danielle sang as she pushed back the curtains even more, destroying any chances that I had of falling back to sleep.

"Be down in ten, I'm making breakfast." 

The soft click of the door closing followed, and I knew that I was once again alone.

Alone. It seemed that no matter how many people I surrounded myself with, I still somehow felt alone.

It would be fair to say that I didn't sleep a wink. The storm's merciless thunder was only a small fraction of what kept me awake and alert. I could easily have blamed the constant ticking of the analog clock that hung just over my head, or the continuous barking of a dog that lived nearby, but I knew better than that.

After Danielle and I arrived at her house, she let me borrow a pair of pajamas and gave me her guest room to sleep in. If it was anyone else, I would have felt as if I was intruding, but Danielle didn't allow me to feel that way. Though I did feel a little bit bad for asking so much of her, she insisted that her home was a home to me, too. 

And after what happened last night, a home was everything I needed. Mother had called me after we left the house, when the clock struck one. I remembered our conversation perfectly, the hushed words she spoke through the speaker ringing in my mind, clear as crystal, the way her voice shook reminding me of the magnitude of this mess.

"Charlotte, where did you go? Are you alright? I'm so, so sorry, I shouldn't have let you leave--"

I had only answered the call when mother began firing questions at me, only some of them being comprehensible. 

"Mum, I'm fine, don't worry. I'm going to stay with Danielle until things... cool down. How's father? Did he say anything to you?" 

Truth be told, I was more worried about my mother than anything else. My father was irrational and proved to be unpredictable last night, so the thought of him taking his anger out on my mother made me anxious.

"No, don't worry, he ignored me for the rest of the night, and honestly, I'm thankful he did. Listen Char, I don't know what's gotten into him. He's never this bad--"

"Mother," I sighed, "You don't have to apologize for him. I'll visit you soon, alright? It'll be fine, I promise. Just... just be careful."

It was the second promise I had made to her and the second one that I had no idea how to fulfill. I was weak--beaten over and over again until there was nothing left of me. I was tired of fighting, tired of having to go fetch people to come back into my life. If my father didn't want anything to do with me, then so be it. It was his decision and no matter how much it pained me, I could do not a single thing about it. 

I sat up in bed, a spell of dizziness hitting me as soon as I lifted my head. I groaned and allowed my head to fall back so that I was leaning on the concrete wall. The throbbing in my skull that failed to subside and the scratching at my throat made it seem quite possible that I had grown ill. 

My tired eyes examined the foreign space surrounding me. The dainty room was cute and I was impressed when Danielle informed me that she had designed it herself. Several paintings were hung onto blue and white striped walls, the theme of the room seeming to be flowers from the various vases scattered about. When I spotted the bare window, my heart longed for the comfort and familiarity of my own room. The view from this one was variant than that of my own. A busy street could be seen from the angle of where I was sat as opposed to the stunning scenery I was so accustomed to. 

I shuffled out of bed, shivers crawling up my spine as my feet made contact with the cold surface of the wooden floor. Tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear, I reached to the vase of Carnations on the nightstand. With a delicate touch, I rang my fingers along the soft and equally delicate petals of one of the flowers.

Even though I was surrounded by nature, by so much life, I still felt dead. I felt like if I was one of the dozen or so Carnations in the vase, I would have been wilted, colorless, and without proper nourishment.

I was lifeless. The only way I believed that I was still alive was because of the heart beating in my chest, a piece not to be underestimated as only a vital organ that pumps blood through one's body. It was much more than that; something I was unable to live without yet the very mortality of what it caused me to feel was sickening. 

I shuffled into the bathroom and spent minimal time in trying to compose what I could of myself. I made the bed before trudging downstairs. 

Even though my nose was stuffed, the unyielding scent of coffee was easy to detect, making a warm smile slip onto my lips. Danielle didn't have to turn around to know that I had stepped foot into the kitchen. 

"How'd you sleep?" She asked sweetly, her eyes set on the kettle she was pouring coffee out of. I slid over one of the stools nearby and hopped up onto it, thanking her when she set a cup of coffee in front of me. 

"Good." I circled my finger around the rim of the mug, my gaze set on the swirling black liquid it held.

"Doesn't seem like it," Danielle raised her eyebrows quizzically. It wasn't the fact that she knew me so well that gave away my facade, but most likely the heavy bags underneath my strained eyes. When I didn't respond, she took a seat in the stool in front of me.

"Why did you want me to wake you up? You could have slept in."

I was glad that Danielle understood I didn't want to talk about what happened last night. She knew that it was hard for me to discuss the topic, let alone keep reminding both myself and her about how my father didn't care for me.

Before she had headed off to bed last night, I asked Danielle to wake me up whenever she got up, which is what she was referring to. 

"I have a dance lesson with Lou in an hour," I answered. My eyes darted to the clock behind us and returned to meet Danielle's, which were childishly twinkling with their usual humor.

"I see," she winked, "And which dance are the two of you practicing today?"

I didn't quite catch the implying tone in her words. "I think we're supposed to start the tango." I watched skeptically as a smile broke out onto her lips. 

"Oh, how romantic!" Laughter bubbled out of her mouth at sight of my fatal glare. I grabbed the object nearest to where I was sitting, which happened to be a dish cloth, and tossed it at her face. Even when I tried to be angry at her, she somehow made me erupt into laughter. 

"Ew!" Danielle screeched, removing the dirty towel from where it had landed on her face. "Gross!" She threw it aside before focusing back on me. 

"All I said was that it's romantic!" She shook her head in astonishment, "Now go get ready for your lesson, unless you want to scare Louis away."

A final round of laughter and with one last glare shot her way, I took her suggestion. She was right. My hair was beginning to resemble a crow's nest and I knew makeup would be on heavy duty today. All in all, I looked like a zombie.

What I appreciated most about Danielle was that she had a personality that was capable of completely diverting my attention from whatever was bothering me. Instead of allowing me to dwell on what had happened, she pretended like everything was tip-top, reality unscathed. And I don't know how I could have possibly held myself together I didn't have her as a friend. 

* * * 

An hour later and I found myself standing in front of a mirror that stretched from wall to wall. The last couple of dance lessons, I would arrive half an hour early and practice by myself while waiting for Louis, but this time, I couldn't bring myself to do as little as warm up. To make matters worse, the entire walk to the dance studio, I hadn't even touched my camera. It was undeniable that things were changing for me. I was slipping into a state in which I didn't even recognize myself anymore. 

And as I stared into the mirror at the girl before me, I couldn't help but trace with my fingers the area around my lips. Usually, the skin there was crinkled because of smiling so widely. However, those smiles disappeared long ago, along with the crinkles that came with. All of the promises I had made of not allowing the situation with Louis to get the best of me flew right out the window, along with hopes of a better future. They say that having your heart broken by the one you love is the worst feeling in the world and when I had the misfortune for experiencing it for myself, I believed it with every ounce of my blood. But that was when I had never experienced the same feeling but from my father, a person who should have been one of the most important men in my life, but turned out to be the one who believed in me the least. 

I tossed my hair up into a ponytail and tried to rub the tiredness out of my eyes. I didn't want Louis asking if anything was up, so I tried my best at acting as if everything was fine, but as we got further into the dance lesson, the semblance I tried so hard to maintain was falling apart at its seams. 

We got right down to business as soon as Louis arrived. He still had seven dances to learn out of the nine that he had been "assigned" by his fiance, so we didn't waste any time talking about anything that was irrelevant to the dance. That is, until I stepped on his foot for the sixth time that same day. 

"Ouch!" He yelped, jumping a few inches away from me. "That's the sixth time, Char... are you sure you're alright?" 

Sniffing to solace my runny nose, I brought my hands to my head in impediment. We started out just fine. I taught Louis the steps and he followed, but as we progressed in the dance, my body began to give out physically. 

I allowed my hand to fall from where it was laced with Louis' and strode over to my bag to pull out a water bottle.

"I am, I'm fine." I brought the plastic bottle to my lips, hoping that the refreshment would better my health. 

I ignored Louis' skeptical gaze and returned to my position in front of him. 

"You take the lead this time," I declared, placing one hand on his arm, just above his bicep, and capturing his other hand with mine. I refused to leave the room until Louis knew how to dance the tango. 

The thing was, I didn't want to let yet another person down, especially not Louis. Louis, Liam, and maybe even Eleanor were counting on me. Sure, I wasn't too fond of Eleanor, but that didn't give me the right to ruin what was the most important day before her actual wedding. 

I wanted to be able to say that I accomplished something. Maybe my life wasn't what I wanted it to be, but maybe I could better the lives of the ones I cared about. 

I waited for Louis to make the first move. He was the one who was supposed to lead me through the dance, but there was no such movement. I tore my gaze from where it was set on the position of my feet in wonder as to why he hadn't began and met his gleaming eyes. 

"You're supposed to move your right foot--"

"I know what to do. Are you sure you're not sick?" He narrowed his eyes and before I could oblige, took a few steps forward so he was close enough that I could feel his warmth breath fan onto my face, my heart speeding up because of our proximity. I jumped when the cold skin of Louis' gentle hand made contact with my, no doubt, warm forehead. 

"You're burning up," he frowned. "Why are you here and not at home, in bed?" 

I wanted to laugh at his question. He really had no idea how much I wanted to be at home, my home. I shook the thoughts out of my head and reluctantly increased the distance between the two of us. 

"Lou, they're just allergies, don't worry, alright?" I ignored the way Louis' eyes bore into my betraying ones and attempted a smile. 

Louis wasn't stupid. He knew that something was wrong, something apart from me being sick. But he also knew that I was stubborn, so he dropped the subject just how I had asked. That didn't mean he forgot about it, though.

The glorifying sun soon set, giving way to the moon and its companions, the stars, which illuminated the otherwise stygian sky. Louis and I danced and danced and he would repeatedly be offering me breaks and handing me my water bottle. A small part of me was flattered that he cared so much, but I reminded myself that friends cared for each other. And that's exactly what the two of us were: friends. 

Just as he had been with the foxtrot and the other dances, Louis was a natural at the tango. It was becoming near impossible to believe that he had never danced before. 

Somehow or another, I withstood the entire lesson until there were only ten minutes left. Thankfully, my condition hadn't worsened,

Louis agreed when I told him that it was a good idea to run through the dance once more before calling it a day.

"May I have this dance?" He asked, bowing slightly. One of his arms was folded behind his back in a sophisticated manner and he offered his other one to me. I snickered at his stance and gladly slid my hand into his. He was attempting to be suave, but the smile tugging at his lips made him seem rather goofy. 

I hadn't gotten over Louis, but I had to admit that it was becoming easier to be around him. Experiencing the same heart-wrenching feeling countless times made me almost immune to it. Almost. There wasn't the slightest chance that I would be able to deny the way my heart lurched every time my eyes came in contact with his. 

Louis began dancing and glided us smoothly across the entire room. Even though the dance was one that required a significant amount of assertion, Louis didn't lose his gentle touch. He was careful with his deliberate movements, making the time that we spent dancing together seem special. Eleanor didn't know just how lucky she was to be able to dance with him for the rest of her life, to be able to spend every day with him. 

"So, do you know how everyone is bringing a date to the party?" Louis shattered our prolonged silence, his grip on my hand tightening. I sensed the small amount of hesitation in his voice, but nodded nonetheless. 

"Do you... uh," he paused, his eyes flickering to the ground and meeting mine again. He was obviously having trouble choking the words out, but finally, he asked, "Do you have a date?" 

Not thinking much of his question, I answered truthfully, "Yes, actually." I thought I felt his body tense up at my words, but ignored it.

"Really?" Maybe it was just my imagination, but Louis almost sounded disappointed. "I mean that's great. Who is it?" He composed himself and almost doubled the speed of the dance. Usually, I would look to see if he was doing the steps right, but I gave up after I realized that this guy just never messed up. Dance was like a language. No one could pick it up right away, which is why I was so impressed by the way Louis' moves were so elaborate and accurate. 

"Harry asked me a few days ago," I explained. Louis came to a sudden stop, but it only lasted for a brief second before his feet began moving again. But this time, his movements were sloppy, magnifying the fact that he was no longer focused on the dance and rather on what he was thinking so intently about. 

I didn't think much about his strange behavior. My mind was already preoccupied with so many things, so it wasn't really like I had a choice. But I couldn't help but wonder: Why was it such a big deal that I had a date to Louis' engagement ball? I had learned long ago not to read too much into his actions, so I put it off as a sort of misunderstanding. 

I was ecstatic when the lesson ended, which was weird because I never thought I would say that when it meant no longer spending time with Louis. My excitment lasted for about three minutes. Because as soon as I stepped out of the monstrous building, the cold air devoured my already frail body. It wasn't even that cold outside, but the fact that I was sick made me believe otherwise. 

Louis followed close behind and it wasn't long before he strapped himself into his warm, luxurious car, making me extremely jealous. Shivers made their way up my spine as I followed the asphalt and headed towards the crosswalk. I knew that Louis was following slowly behind in his car, so I wasn't surprised when he pulled up next to me in his car and rolled his window down. 

"Don't tell me you're going to walk home," he said, making the very idea sound ridiculous.

I pulled my coat tighter around myself and stuffed my hands into the cozy pockets, hoping the shivering would subside. "Well, why not? The weather is gorgeous and a little bit of excercise won't hurt."

No, the weather wasn't gorgeous. And I sure as heck wasn't in the mood for excercising. But Louis didn't know that and what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him. 

"Don't be ridiculous, Char. You're sick and it's only going to get worse." 

Louis did have a point, and my aching legs seemed to agree as they pleaded for me to take him up on his offer. I looked at Louis, who raised his eyebrows quizzically. Before I could even say anything, he hopped out of the car and strode over to the passenger's side. He pulled open the door and smiled widely, sticking his hand out for me to take. 

I sighed heavily and wove my way around the car. I took his hand and he pulled me onto the street. I thanked him when he got me settled and closed the door. The heated enviroment in the car was an instant comfort to the harsh weather outdoors. I sighed in content and leaned back into the leather seat, placing my cold hands in front of the heating vents. There was no way I would have lasted the whole walk to Danielle's house.

Louis joined me in the car soon after. He laughed when he saw that I was trying to warm my hands. He popped open the center console and fished through the compartment. I didn't care to see what it was, though, because at the moment, the instant relief the warmth granted me was the only thing on my mind. 

"Here," My attention was brought to Louis when he spoke. I looked to see that he was offering me a black pair of gloves. I took them without hesitation and pulled them on, thanking him with a gratifying smile. 

"Do you think you can drop me off at Danielle's?" I asked softly, hoping that he wouldn't question why I wanted to go there instead of going to my own home. I deliberately avoided talking about what happened between Father and I. Louis didn't need to know that I got kicked out of my own house. I didn't want him to know, I no longer wanted to seem like the girl with so many issues. The girl who always seemed to drive people out of her life, which she had absolutely no control over. 

*Louis' POV*

I wish there was a way to know how things will turn out for me. Who will I end up with? Will I be happy? If only I knew, I could determine whether or not the decisions I made really were for the best. But there was no way to do that, was there? No, life was much more difficult. There wasn't an easy way out, and learning from your mistakes is a huge part of it. 

I kept sneaking glances at Charlotte, which had become quite easy because her head was turned the other way and she was gazing out of the window and at the passing scenery. All of the questions running through my mind only confused me further. 

Why did I care so much that Harry was her date? I should have been ecstatic for both her and for Harry, but the unexplainable feeling of jealousy failed to leave my body. Even as I thought about the two of them together, my grip on the steering wheel compressed so that my knuckles had turned a ghostly white. 

Silence had ensued the car ever since I agreed to take Charlotte to Danielle's house. No matter how hard she tried to hide it, I could tell that Charlotte was troubled. She was broken--hurt, and even though I knew that it was going to be hard to get her to confide in me, I would never have been able to live knowing that I didn't as much as ask for the reason behind her distress. 

I waited until we were at a stoplight to turn and face her. "Are you alright?" 

Charlotte wasn't the slightest bit affected by my abrupt question. She slowly craned her neck and met my eyes, before laughing ever so lightly. 

"I just feel a little sick is all." 

I had expected that response from her. "No, I mean, apart from feeling sick. Is there something wrong?" 

The distant look in her eyes only proved my point. The usual vibrant look they held was replaced by concern. When she remained silent, I sighed and spoke again. 

"You know that you can tell me, right?" 

Without turning around, Charlotte answered, "I don't want to talk about it." I watched her hands, which were covered with my gloves, fiddle with nerves. 

Irritated, I swiveled back into my seat and focused on the road. She had no idea how useless I felt.

Short after I apologized to my best friends about the way I had behaved with them, I confessed my feelings to Charlotte. She had clarified that she no longer had the same feelings for me, saying that she was happy for me and Eleanor. Shouldn't I have been appeased? Instead of losing half half of my heart, I should have felt relieved that I didn't have to choose between Eleanor, my girlfriend, and Charlotte, the girl who managed to jumble my heart and feelings into one big unsolvable mess. 

I can never explain why I told Charlotte what I did at the meadow. Let's say she felt the same way about me. What was I supposed to do then? Break up with Eleanor? It seemed like the more I would try to fix things, the messier they would get. 

Charlotte had said that she was happy for me. Then why wasn't I happy for myself? I getting married soon, I should have been thrilled, right?

Wrong. I was questioning a decision that at the time, I made with such confidence. I didn't know if I wanted to get married anymore. I didn't know how to explain why I cared about Charlotte in a way that goes way beyond just friends. I wasn't aware of why the thought of marriage completely evaded my mind when I was with her.

And I didn't know when the words left my mouth or why, but there was no way to take them back. 

"I don't want to get married."

Obscure panic hit me like a truck when I realized what I had said. Fearing that Charlotte had heard me, I snapped my head towards the left. She would have heard me, if she wasn't knocked out. 

The soft snores that left Charlotte's mouth made me chuckle. She had been exhausted ever since I saw her in the morning, so I was glad that she was getting some rest. 

But I couldn't say that I was happy with myself. I wanted to slam my head on the steering wheel for being so stupid. What if Charlotte had heard me? And what if what I said was true? What the hell was I supposed to do then?

* * *

*Charlotte's POV*

I didn't recall when I fell asleep, and I didn't remember being carried into an elevator. So imagine my surprise when I woke up in one. Even though I was forced to overcome my irrational fear long ago, I was still uneasy in lifts. 

I rubbed my groggy eyes with the back of my hands, studying my surroundings. My heart began to race with panic when I took note of the disclosed space, but the panic subsided when I spotted Louis by my side. He had one arm thrown over my shoulder and the other one was gripping my elbow for support. He was unaware that I was awake until I cleared my throat. 

"Oh, good, you're up," he smiled down at me. I shrugged out from underneath his arm and as if his gaze wasn't enough to set my cheeks on fire, I realized that he had carried me all the way out of the car and into the lift, making me blush a crimson red. When I failed to succumb the embarrassing tone of red, I quickly averted my gaze and pretended like I was studying something to my right. 

"How long was I out?" I asked, my voice hoarse due to the slumber I endured. 

Louis checked his watch and looked back down at me. "Twenty mintues, roughly." 

I nodded briskly and neither of us said anything, the silent spell being broken by the ding of the elevator. I stepped out of the machine, feeling at comfort in the corridor instead, and Louis followed suit. We remained silent as we traveled down the carpeted hallway and came to a stop in front of Danielle's door. I fished through my satchel for the key to the house and pulled out the sculptured metal when my hand came into contact with its cold surface. 

I inserted the key into the lock and before twisting it, turned to face a bemused Louis. 

"Wait," he narrowed his eyes in thought, "Why do you have a key to Danielle's flat?" 

I sighed. I knew that there was no way to explain the situation without sounding ridiculous, so the only thing left was to tell him the truth, no matter how much I wanted to hide it. "I'll explain later," I promised before finally twisting the door knob and pushing the door open. I had expected to see Danielle chilling on the couch with the television remote in her hands, but was met with a rather horrifying sight. 

In front of me stood an all-too-familiar brunette, her arms folded across her chest. She was clearly unhappy. And behind her was Danielle, with an absurd amount of concern coating her feautures. 

Eleanor?

I craned my neck and saw that Louis' expression was a mere replica of Danielle's. 

What is going on here?

After what happened yesterday, I truly believed my life could not get more complicated than it already was. But when Eleanor opened her mouth to speak and shot an accusing glare my way, I was certain that all hell was about to break loose. 

* * * 

(A/N) Yoooooo

Hi. So! How was the chapterrrr? I bet you love me for the cliffhanger, am I right? ;)

I don't really have much to say! Just that there's only nine chapters left in this story... I originally thought it was much less than that, but I planned them out today and I guess I was wrong.

Oh and this chapter is dedicated to the amazing @iluvenature for being so incredibly sweet and leaving such supportive comments. Thanks loooove <3

That's pretty much it! Until next time... 

Stay beautiful, -Ayshaa