The Exceptionals

Chapter Six: Well, Fuck Then

Detroit Rock City - Kiss

"Hey honey."

Occupied with her back facing the kitchen ark, she busily asked in view of the front door, slaving herself over the kitchen stove as she stirred over the pots and pans and whisked the supposed dinner with savoury herbs and spices. She sighed deeply and turned around, grabbing the filthy hand towel from her shoulder and towelling her hands down. "How was your day? Anything excit—Louis are you okay?"

Her face was still, worried wrinkles adorning her smile lines as she frowned.

And as so, the precise boy was stood in a puddle of dripping rain at the mat of the door, smudges of tear stains clear as they covered his frostbitten cheeks, skin choppy and nipped as heavy wind whipped inside the house. There was a vigorous pause that lasted about a second before Louis smiled teary and faux at his mother, and then silently crossed the living room all while leaving a damp path throughout and walked into the hallway and walked into his room, smacking his door shut behind him and locking it.

Heavy steps creaked quickly into the hallway before they settled outside his room. Louis just dropped his bag on the floor and drowsily crawled into his bed and hid under the heavy grey sheets. There came the sound of the door handle jiggling profusely, a pounding on the door shortly after and some drowned-down words coming out distraught.

And before he knew it, he broke down, hideously and messily

*****

Louis slept through Friday afternoon.

Through Saturday too. With some snacks in between.

Ate some oversalted crisps all throughout Sunday and laid in his unmade bed all day long, moving from his study to the living room to play atari to his bed and to the bathroom all around. Eventually, his mum's continuous silent stare that just followed him all around the house just maybe got a little too much for him, so he talked to her, soothed her out by telling her what she wanted to hear. Johannah calmed down slightly with Louis' scampy lies about him dropping his smoothie on the floor or something flimsy he had made up at the moment.

It was uncandid.

But maybe just that Sunday afternoon, when he was cosily sitting at the edge of his bed with warm orange sunlight ultimately caving into his room and blinding him glimmeringly straight in the eye, did he finally appease himself enough to calm down to even process... things.

In a sense of the way he knows it, he feels disgustingly sickened by it and he wants to rip off his lips and burn them and throw them off at the next stop in hell. He felt so deranged of himself. Till that moment he hadn't really deeply refined what happened in the bathroom, he hadn't really ironed out everything that occurred then and there, and he didn't really want to think about it either. It was just a stupid spur-of-the-moment that probably was just caused and poked at by Louis' stupid anger issues and his inability to stay fucking silent.

But then again that just doesn't really make sense.

And yet something he just really had to get through his thick skull was that Harry was a sumptuous people person, or more of a female person. Winding a girl rigidly under his arm every other day and god knows what he liked to do in his free time. Harry was just another aroused disgusting bastard with a sick mind and a vigorous need for sex.

Also, he was fucking high all the while they were talking so if maybe somewhere along the lines he impossibly imagined Louis somehow became a girl, well then there it goes.

And now that makes more sense.

But still, knowing that Louis himself was completely and dreadfully sober and in the right state of mind—or well, somewhere there, and he felt it and saw him and felt a boy's lips on his was just absolute and awfully crude.