clean » larry stylinson

[06]

dedicated to @snogglinglarry because i honestly cannot thank her enough for her support on here, her comments leave me in tears, and her writing is beyond beautiful.

flickering swirls of ice crunch weightless, crippled under each movement the foreign car makes as it edges its way closer to the oblivious boy. the slick driveway of crushed snow and hidden dirt reveals the speckled print of zayn's tyre pattern, shadowing the vehicles every move. still, even as the beaten voltzwagon casts a shadow over the boy's weary head, louis remains seated. legs swinging back and forth like the arms of a pendulum, his eyebrows furrowed, deep in thought. the steps in lead to his apartment's door are washed to a grey; blending in seamlessly with the monochrome sweater louis wears, hiding him away into them as though he merely is a part of the building itself.

with a struggle against the wind, the driver's door is pushed open, liam's coffee stained hair emerging and turning only slightly to mouth something incoherent to an occupied passenger seat.

eyes warm, glazed over slightly as his hangover sobers, and a chuckle of a laugh, liam treads over the bitter sludge seeping through the crevices in the cement. louis' gaze is still diverted down, unconscious to the ever-increasing presence of his roommate. liam shakes his hand through the flattened quiff in his hair, letting his plaid shirt hang loose to dance through the bitter cold like his escaped laughter.

this captures louis' attention, his focus turning like a light bulb switched on. the boy's thin lips enveloping into smile that transforms the corners of his face; rising up to greet liam with such look of upmost adoration that even liam finds himself pleasantly surprised.

opening his arms to both greet and shelter the smaller of them both, louis finds himself pressing up into liam's warm chest, the moving comfort and heartbeat he feels as his friend holds him allowing him to realise quite how thin and worn the jumper covering him truly is.

lifting his chin up ever so slightly so that he can meet eyes with the one buried into him, a wave of quivering blue hides behind the folds of liam's shirt, cowering away from it all.

"has the world given up on their early morning coffee routines?" the larger asks, his voice trickling with the sound of amusement and security. "are we both out of a job?"

a pale-faced louis, cringing at the mention of work, meets him. this breaks the illusion. laced across his features is the flitter of panic, brows downturned as he palms his face in annoyance. with a glance at the ticking watch face upon his wrist, louis, subconsciously, lets out a string of profanities underneath his breath.

he's locked himself out. he has no warm clothing, no way to enter his house and he's an hour late to work.

had he not been sitting in the damp remnants of a puddle for the last twenty minutes or so, louis believes he may have had the strength to force at least a small smile at his misfortune. but the fact remains that his skinny jeans are wet and are clinging to his shaking legs like a cold rag, so a glower is instead in its place.

liam listens as louis explains his unfortunate situation, sighing, them unlocking the door himself much to the older boy's delight.

"is there a story behind all of this? what happened to you, you're freezing for one," liam ushers him inside and in front of the small heater which has continued running, "and do you ever plan on making an appearance at work?"

louis simply remains silent, enjoying the warm gusts of air and finding particular interest in the vans that cover his feet. holding on until the moment is seconds away from becoming awkward, he mumbles an almost incoherent 'mum' before scuffing the points of his shoes over one another.