clean » larry stylinson

[09]

swirls of colour seemed to drift endlessly around him, the flashing of dancing lights leaving his head painfully numb and his heart to pound ecstatically. sickeningly sweet and overtly sticky syrup clinging to the corner of his lips, tinting them a bright pink as the beads of sugar dissolve upon his tongue,

louis could feel the race of his pulse through every inch of his body, from his chest that felt aflame with the rush of adrenaline, to his legs, heavy from dodging fields of mud where the grass had worn thin. his heartbeat travelled right down through his shoulders and his arms to the tips of his fingers, where they were warmly grasped around the younger boy's firm grip, free to be pulled in whichever direction harry deemed would hold the most excitement.

the glow of lights upon rides and carnival stands shine effortlessly despite the sunlight leaking through the parting clouds. louis can see the families scattered around them, juggling show bags, wallets, and children, as they join yet another endless queue.

couples of all ages hold each other as they drift past harry and him. their arms are joined in a fashion similar to the way harry is desperately clinging to his grasp and louis can't help but wonder if anybody from the crowds swarming around them has given them a second glance. he daydreams of the strangers passing by, curious as to whether it is simply presumed they are just another couple rather than the two lonely people clinging to a newly formed friendship that they really are.

a sharp pang of jealousy begins to gnaw at his stomach as he tears his eyes away from a dark haired man pressing his lips into a girl's neck.

as the hours progress, each minute proves to be harder than the last, each smile shared, each look held between them both serving as nothing short of a wrecking ball to louis' certainty that the emotions he feels towards harry are simply platonic.

and friends can hold hands. and friends can hold each other when its cold, dark or when the world is slowly burning around them. but friends shouldn't enjoy it quite as much as each boy does. and there, in between harry's will to radiate love and louis' refusal to accept it, lies their problem.

but their mouths are too full of cotton candy and the risk of ending their strange connection much too high for either of them to say a word about it. though his legs are beginning to ache, and he's received just a handful few too many looks his way, louis simply follows along obediently as harry treads between rides, wondering how a single day could be such a blessed curse.

"where to next?" harry beams, still energetic despite their constant moving, and painfully oblivious to louis' shortness of breath. as he looks over past the fairground, louis attempts to stifle the bending of his knees and heaving of his chest as he breathes in deeply.

it isn't necessarily all of their walking leaving louis in need of air, though he certainly would have thought harder of an excuse as to why the carnival was off limits had he known of the exercise he was signing up for.

rather, it is the swarms of people around him, fighting for his personal space and invading it with their harsh shoves and elbows bared like swords, leaving him hesitant.

in all honesty, the boy is relatively surprised and somewhat impressed he made it this far into the day. the sun sits heavy in the sky; high enough though that louis knows there will still be a few more hours of winter light left before it sets completely.

it would have been nice if he had just been able to suck it up and bare the crowds for the time still remaining, but as the all so familiar clench returns to his gut, he knows that it is not only the countless, vomit-inducing rides he has ridden on leaving him feeling this way.

there is nothing different about his mood, it's the same sinking feeling that has became permanently apart of him, however the deflation he feels as he notices the smile fade subconsciously from his face highlights the high he had not even realized he was on.