Gods & Monsters

Chapter 4 (Part 2)

"It's only the third day, pup," Louis counters, dismissing the words with his hand. "It's hardly an extended commitment."

Styles just presses his lips together at that, doesn't say anything for a moment.

"Still odd," he eventually concludes.

"Yeah," Louis agrees after a beat. "Still odd, I suppose. But here I am, eh?" He looks over at Styles, forces a smile he doesn't feel like giving. He sort of wants to leave. This all just feels off. Still. Even with the glimmers of hope. "I can leave you be, though. Go find Zayn or Liam and bother them. Leave you to your books." He thumps a finger on the aforementioned object as he says it, and it plonks loud enough to startle one of the ducks.

Styles merely shrugs, though. "Like, I said. I've got work soon. And you're not bothering me. I'm not like...very good at conversation, though."

Louis can't help the amusement that pulls his lips into a smile, one eyebrow creeping up his forehead. "Really? You seem like quite the charmer to me," Louis half-lies. Which, yeah, Styles seems more socially inept than not, but he's apparently pulling his weight around here somehow. Louis thinks on the blond girl from the day before, her easy laughter and the way her eyes lit up upon seeing him. "People around here seem to like you. From the little I've seen, at least."

Styles shrugs, closes his textbook. Another little flit of victory.

"I dunno. I like people, alright. They're nice." He slides the book into his bag, eyes trailing his movements. "But I don't really..." He stops, glances at Louis. "Never mind."

"What?" Louis questions, genuinely curious. He needs any information he can get.

"No. It's nothing. I'm just being silly. 'M tired." He zips up his bag and doesn't say anything more.

Well shit. That went nowhere.

Louis tries not to huff, just stares out at the pond, beginning to formulate excuses to leave. Tomorrow. Tomorrow will be the day. Tomorrow he'll start trying harder. He'll persevere.

"I just want to do my best here," Styles suddenly says, and the abruptness startles Louis. He looks over to the boy, but Styles is staring out at the pond again, brows pinched and hands clasped together a little too tightly. "I'm not that good with making, like, actual friends. I can talk to people and stuff, like, at school. But it's not..." He bites the inside of his lips, chews a bit as he thinks, his eyes just a bit darker. Louis watches. "I'm better at the school stuff than the social stuff, I suppose. But I'm new, see. So, like. I've got to try a bit harder for that as well. You know?"

No he does not.

"How so?" Louis questions.

This feels like he's getting somewhere. If Louis knows Harry's motivation, then he can pick it apart until it's gone.

For a moment, Styles is quiet, just sitting with his bag between his legs, staring out at the pond with squinted eyes, messy hair, and soft lips. He's a soft little creature in general, all quiet and honest. But inexplicably distant. It makes Louis stare a bit harder, trying to focus the boy into sharper view. Somehow though, he always seems fuzzy on the edges.

"This is boring. What I'm saying is boring," Styles then dismisses, after seconds, maybe minutes, pass, furrowing his brow still more and looking away.

"Not boring," Louis corrects easily. "Lay it on me."

He wants to know. Nothing that's coming out of Harry's mouth is expected. He needs to know.

"Well." Styles pauses again, nibbles on the inside of his lips and cheek. Itches his nose. Re-fumbles his earbuds. He's got nervous twitches. He's self-conscious, at least on some level. "It just seems so easy for everybody here. Both socially and academically. Did you ever go to school here?" he asks, turning to Louis.