Larry Stylinson (One-Shot) - Like Thunderbolt

You're my favourite thunderbolt.

Louis was walking around in the London streets. It was quite chilly outside, so he wore a heavy jacket that covered his upper body entirely, protecting it from the cold breeze floating in the air.

The boy had been stuck at home for, at least, three days due to the alert that the news had given. A storm once in a while, lots of rain (which Louis hated the most) and thunder (which Louis loved the most), snow here and there and cold, lots and lots of cold.

He was tired, though, of just sitting in his couch for so long. He needed some fresh air. Clear his head from troubles, that seemed to follow him quite often really.

So here he was, a 23 year old boy, just roaming through the London snow-covered streets, almost dragging his feet along the fluffy white clouds-like cotton that forbid him to see the actual floor.

He decided that he needed some kind of shelter to try and hide from the upcoming rain. He noticed dark clouds covering the once clear blue sky and understood that maybe getting out wasn't that much of a good idea...

He remembered that, not far away, there was a tower - very tall, at that - that he used to visit often, before he moved out of his mother's and started to realise that maybe he should grow up. He was a big boy after all... Or maybe not, but he tried! It was just so... boring!

Louis quickened his pace as a fat drop of water hit his right cheek. He got to the tower about five minutes later or so. He got in. If he wasn't mistaken, the tower was always open, so he could go up anytime of any day. He decided to go up there, since he hadn't been in here for a while, to check if everything was the same.

Louis planted his right foot firmly on the first step, hands still stuffed in his pocket and head hanging down, carefully starting to climb the rock stairs, large puffs of breath were coming out of his mouth due to, not only the cold air outside, but also the little run he had to do to get here in time before being caught up in the rain.

As he got to the top, he turned to the dirty and old glass doors that he used to open all the time. They led to a balcony, hanging high above the ground. Only this time, when he looked outside, he saw something - someone - that wasn't normally there.

The boy had curly, chocolaty brown, messy hair. He was sitting down at the edge of the balcony, his legs hanging down from the railing, his hands stuffed in his pockets as well and his head faced forward, probably looking at the city - it was quite the view, honestly.

Louis than realised that the boy was sitting outside, in the railing of a balcony, several feet away from solid, firm ground and with a storm to come. He needed to get this guy out of there! He quickly slid the glass doors open (as quickly as you can slide old, rusty doors) with a slight groan from all the strength he had to have to actually open those bloody things!

The stranger's head turned swiftly towards the sound and he widened his eyes a little at the sudden sound.

"W-Who are you?", he stuttered slightly.

At that moment, after pushing past the small space between the doors and the wall, he looked up as the sound of a deep voice rang in his ears.

Damn! What a voice this guy had! It was much deeper than Louis had expected it to be, coming from such a sweet looking boy. He had green, beautiful eyes that showed slight fear at the moment, widened, looking at the unknown boy in front of them. His skin was pale as porcelain, making his orbs shine brighter. His lips were full and pinkish, and, okay, maybe evaluating this boy's lips was a little too much, but he was cute... and Louis was gay...

"Who are you?", he repeated, this time more confident. After noticing Louis' stare, he figured he wouldn't hurt him, would he?

"Louis!", he snapped out of his trance at the lad's voice. "Louis Tomlinson."