After that day, I found myself looking at Louis differently. I used to look at him like I did everyone else, like he was an idiot, but now I kind of look at him like he's Jesus. I know it sounds a bit weird, but how could I not? He's the first person in years that actually hasn't made me feel worthless. When you always feel like your the scum of the Earth, it's nice to feel good about yourself sometimes.
Today was Sunday, so I didn't have the bullshit today because the children's center is closed on Sunday's, which I was thankful for. I could sit in my room all day and wallow in my self pity or draw or write or just not do anything-but wait. Things never go my way, so I wasn't even a bit surprised my mom announced that I had to come with her to a book club meeting.
"There will be other kids there Harry," She said. "This will be good for you."
Why is she always saying things will be good for me? How the hell does she know, she doesn't ever talk to me, or spend time with me, she knows nothing about me. But I just agreed with a nod, before retreating back to my room to get dressed. I threw on a black Ramones shirt, some simple jeans and scruffy Converse before grabbing my jacket and heading back down the stairs.
"You look good Harry. Now come here and grab this tray of cookies for me." Anne says, slipping on some simple black heels before motioning to a tray on the counter. I let out a quiet sigh before trudging over and grabbing the light tray. "Alright let's go. We're already late!" She says, hastily walking out the door with me following.
The car ride was silent, I liked silence so that was good. Silence gives me time to think about trying to stop thinking about everything, but it rarely ever works, and when I begin to think I begin to start picking at my wrists, trying to open the new scars.
"That Louis boy will be there tonight," Now that caught my attention. I look up at her through the rear view mirror and she gives me a smile. "It's at his mum's house after all. Maybe he could take you somewhere, like a college party or maybe to a restaurant or something. Anything to get you out of a house for once. You know you..."
My eyes wander out the window as I block out my mums rambling, watching the cars whiz by us and the way the yellow stripes on the road turn into acblur due to our fast pace. I rest my head against the cool glass and let my mind wander to Louis, which seems to happen often.
"C'mon Harry, get out. We're here." Anne says, snapping me out of my daze. I look out the window to see we're in front of a cottage styled house, surrounded with flowers, a lot like my own house. I unbuckle my seat belt and step out the car, grabbing the cookie tray when it's shoved into my chest.
"Now Harry, you need to be on your best behavior. There are quite a bit of people here, so try to be polite." Anne says, walking up the driveway with me following far behind. When we reach the door, she pushes it open and the smell of cinnamon is so strong that it gives me a slight head ache.
"Anne!" A woman with brown hair says, rushing over to pull my mum into her arms. "Jay, this is my son Harry. Harry this is Jay, Louis' mum." Anne says once they've pulled away. "Hello Harry." Jay says, extending a hand for me to shake. I just nod in response, looking down in embarrassment. "Well, Louis is upstairs with his girlfriend at the moment. You can go on up if you'd like. It's the first door to your left." Jay says, smiling kindly.
My mom looks over at me, giving me a hard look. "Go." She mouths before turning to reciprocate Jay's smile. I huff and drag my feet to the stairs. Why? Why me? Once at the last stair, I look to the left and spot the first door before walking over and giving a small knock.
After a few seconds, when no one answers I start to hope that no one is there. I turn around but suddenly the door opens. I cringe and mouth a string of curses before turning back around and giving Louis a small smile. "Harry? What're you doing here?" He asks, opening the door wider for me to walk in. I shrug and smile kindly at the tall brunette who was seated at the edge of the twin sized bed.
"Well, um...this is my girlfriend Eleanor. El this is Harry, the kid I told you about." Louis says, closing the door behind me. "Hel-lo Har-ry. I am El-ea-nor. Nice to meet you," She says slowly, and I look at her like she's retarded. "Why is he looking at me that way?" She asks, turning to Louis.
"He probably think's your a loon. He's mute El, not mentally challenged. He can hear and evaluate, he just can't-or chooses not to talk." Louis explains, sitting next to her on the bed. "Oh," She says, giving me a sorry smile. "Nice to meet you Harry."
I just nod, shifting awkwardly, shoving my hands in my Jack Willis hoody. "So, how old are you? I feel as if I should know this." Louis asks, smiling up at me. I shift again before holding up six fingers, one on my left hand and five on my right. "You're 6? Wow, you're tall." Eleanor says, eyes wide and shock written across her face. I raise an eyebrow at her before putting my hands back into my pockets.
"No love, he's 15," Louis says to her before turning back to me with a smile. "Your quite sophisticated for 15," I blush and look down at my white Converse's. "I just got a brilliant idea!" Louis shouts standing up abruptly, making me wince and take a step back. He grabs a dry erase board and a black marker and hands it to me with a grin. "So you can communicate." He says, sitting back on the bed.I sit at a spinny chair in front of a desk and take the top of the marker off.
How old are you? I write before turning it to show him. He smiles before answering, "I'm 19, I just started Uni." He says smiling. Eleanor pulls out her phone, not bothering to answer the question, which, I couldn't care less really. She's not the a very smart person, and I can't tolerate that.
What's your major?I ask, resting the board on my thighs. "Ballet, even though it's extremely girly. I've always loved to dance. Can you dance?" He asks, tilting his head. Me? Dance? No, no, no. I have two left feet, and my long limbs would get in the way. I respond smiling when he laughs. "I can see why you'd say that. Maybe you should just stick to piano and art." He says, smiling. I agree. Or maybe I could go for being a human rubber band. I write, making him laugh, making me smile and making Eleanor look up. She rolls her eyes. I look down.
"Hey Lou, I've got to go. I have some exams in the morning so I need my sleep." She says getting up. He stands too, and wraps her up in his arms. "I'll see you tomorrow, ok babe?" He says, kissing her forehead. " 'Kay. Walk me out?" She asks, grabbing her purse. "Sure. Be right back Harry." He says before walking her out the door.
I look around his room for the first time, and I have to admit it's a bit messy, my hands are just twitching to clean it. I sigh, standing to straighten the books on his desk, then kicking his shoes into the closet before closing the door and gathering all the trash on the floor, throwing it in the bin in the corner.
The door swings open and I turn to look at Louis who smiles at me. "If you wanted to clean my room, you could've just asked," He says, closing the door and plopping on the bed. " Trust me, would've let you." I smile sheepishly before sitting back in the chair, grabbing my board. How long have you and Eleanor been dating? I ask, my cheeks slowly turning pink as his crystal-like eyes scan the board.
Since when have i been poetically descrbing the color of his eyes?
"Only about a..um," He scratches the back of his neck. "I want to say a year, but i'm not quite sure." He says, adding a little chuckle. I nod and start to doodle on the board, humming a random tune as Louis pulls out his phone. "Hey Harry?" He asks, making me look up. "Would you want to go to a music festival with me tomorrow? You just seem really cool or whatever. " He asks hopefully, scratching the back of his neck. Are you sure? I mean, I don't want to make it boring for you... I write, watching his expression soften. "Of course i'm sure!" He says smiling.
Oh god I was hoping you weren't.
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FanfictionTHIS IS A LARRY STYLINSON STORY!! de·pres·sion /diˈpreSHən/ Noun Severe despondency and dejection, accompanied by feelings of hopelessness and inadequacy. A condition of mental disturbance, typically with lack of energy and difficulty in maintaini...