lumière

3.

It was late. Too late. Or early, if you're the type to get all specifc with detail.

It was late and my bloody phone was doing that thing, that noise, that I hate. It was ringing.

I groaned maybe a bit to loud to be considered human, and reached under my pillow for my phone. I didn't look at the contact and answered anyways.

"I swear to god Harry, if this is you, I am never ever taking you to Times Square ever, ever-"

"Um, Louis? It's Niall?" My heart dropped out of my chest and into my ass in a record time of two seconds.

I sat up in bed and rubbed the sleep from eyes. "Oh! Hey, Niall. Niallster. Niall, my main home dog. What's up?"

I heard him chuckle. "Is this a bad time? It is a bit late and I'm sorry if I'm bothering you." He sounded so soft and warm and sad and it was breaking my heart and-

"Yeah, it's no problem. I mean, no, it's alright. I mean, you know what, I dont know what I mean. It's-" I looked at my phone. "Four in the morning and sleep is for the weak. So what's up, Niall?"

I got up from my bed and cracked my neck and stcratched by stomach as he stammered through the phone.

"I, um, you said that I can call you whenever I felt like I was going to, um, harm myself again and, yeah, um, yeah. This is what this is. And I know we just met and you barely even know me but I feel like I can, um, believe that you won't judge me or, um, call me a f-freak and-"

I stumbled blindly in my hallway searching for a light switch. "Niall, I won't ever call you a freak, ever. Remember my friend I told you about, the one who committed suicide?" He hummed in reply. "Yeah, I never called him a freak and I was always there for him when he needed me and I will be here for you, despite the fact that we just met. You are a friend to me, Niall, and incredibly cute and adorable friend that will hopefully let me woo him with my sexiness."

He sniffled and chuckled a bit. "I, um, didn't do it yet but I was going to, but I didn't because you said to call you."

I squinted through the light that was now burning my corneas. "Im so glad you made that decision. We can do this two ways: the way I prefer is you talk it out, or cry it out until you don't feel the urge to anymore, or I can distract you and make you laugh with stories, humiliating stories, about my life. Which one will it be, cutie?"

"I think I'll go with the first one."

"Off you go, then," I said and I listened to him.

"Um, well I've been...self-harming for about five, six years? I don't keep track." I knew he was lying but I didn't say anything. "The impulse comes whenever I'm alone or have time to start thinking. I think about bad things, and I feel, um, disgusted with myself. I don't really like who I am, Louis."

My heart was pounding in my chest and a frown made a perminant settlement on my face. "Why is that, Niall?"

"Because I don't belong here, I don't want to be alive." He breathed heavily. "God, I'm such a freak."

"You know what I don't get, sometimes? The fact that there is a label of 'freak' when someone has feelings of sadness so deep that the only way they think they can get rid of it is to die. Niall, my sweet, adorable Niall, you are not a freak for feeling upset enough to harm yourself, you hear me? So start over, and exclude any demeaning words or I will find you and cuddle you until you want to shoot me." I breathed in through my nose and out my mouth and I sat on my living room couch.

I heard him sniffle and give a weak chuckle. "I'm sor- I mean, okay."

"Atta boy!"

He laughed, stronger this time, and took a deep breath. "I, uh, I started thinking about what you said the other day, about my head always being down. I don't really have an answer on why I do it, because it's more an instinct now more than anything, really. I look down instead of up to hide, I guess. I'd rather people judge me without me seeing it, because even though it hurts for them to do it anyways, it hurts less when I don't see it myself, you know?"

I nodded then hummed when I realized he couldn't see me. "I get you, Niall. It's like, you know they'll judge you, but if you don't see their eyes looking at you, taking you in even though they don't know you, it doesn't stay on your mind. You don't have to think about their look all day, poisning your already shit mood even more."

He gives a little breathy sound that makes my stomach flip. "Yes! That's exactly what it is and I know you told me not to apologize unless I was in the wrong, but I want to say sorry for putting my head down in front of you because you are the last person I would ever be afraid to look in the eye."

I'm smiling at this point. I don't think he's cheered up completely but now I know he at least kind of, maybe (just a little) trusts me. Now I know I have to be careful.

Gaining someone's trust is probably the second most fragile thing to aquire in a lifetime.

"Niall, I told you not to apologize for anything, especially to me, okay?"

He chuckled. "Okay."

"Ooooh, did we just have a tfios moment, I think we did. God, we were meant to be, don't you think?" I held my phone between my ear and shoulder and clapped my hands.

"Thank you, Louis."

My smile could not have gotten any bigger because that would be quite impossible. But it did. "For what, Niall? We've been speaking for barely"--I looked at my phone--"Nope, never mind it's been fourty-five minutes."

"Thank you for listening, and commenting, about my kind of crazy life. I have way too many issues to count."

"I'd listen to you talk about your favorite bread and I promise that I'll do it over and over until you're comfortable telling me anything."

"Why are you so kind? No one has been kind to me before."

Ah, there goes my frown again. I should give it a name since it insists on invading my facial expressions.

"Now, why would anyone be mean to such a kindred person like you, Niall?"

He paused. "Some people are so broken, they feel it their obligation to break others."

"You make it sound like European imperialism."

He laughed really loud and so did I. "It kind of is, if you think about it. The civilized, who are actually the un-civilized, trying to civilize the un-civilized, who only wants to be left alone to their un-civilized civilized ways."

"You, sir, are a well spoken man." I looked at my nails. "I dig that."

I practically heard him blush. "I, um, I dig you too."

I jolted out of my seat. "What?! You dig me? As in, you like me? As in, you'd be totally down with going on a another date with me?"

"Um, yes?"

I fist pumped the air. "How's tomorrow?"

By the time our call ended, it was six in the morning, I had bags under my eyes, a date with an adorable man puppy, and the smile that was on my face was probably capable of ending a war. Or two.

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