Louis' mom always told him he was special.
When they were out in the park and Louis would scrape his knee falling off the swings, he would run to her, tears staining his cheeks, and she'd try to hug the pain out of him.
Then she would hold him and say, "Look at all those children running around and playing and singing. Even though they might be the same age, the same height, the same grade as him, they'll never be quite like my boy."
Sometimes she'd say 'my boy' like that, but Louis knew she always meant him. It sounded like how she would speak to someone else about him. Louis loved that.
He'd giggle and say, "Why, mummy?"
"Because my boy is special," she'd shrug, as if it were obvious, "He's going to do many special things at many special places and these kids? They won't stand a chance against my boy."
At that point his smile was so wide his cheeks hurt and the throbbing of his skinned knee was long forgotten.
If only she could see how special her boy turned out. That is, if she were still alive.
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The Story of a Female Boy Named Louis (Larry Stylinson AU)
FanfictionLouis is just trying to get by. Which is pretty hard if you prance around in skirts, feel like you eat too much, have a dead mother in heaven constantly reminding you of how special you are, an absent father who lives at his job, have idiots at scho...
