Little Sips: A Book of One Shots

Fly [Larry Stylinson AU]

A/N: This little oneshot is written by Arabella. Enjoy.

Louis looks out at the radiant and beautiful lights of the city, so bright against the indigo night sky, and so beautiful at such a height like this. He wonders what the lights would look like from up above the puffy, white clouds in Heaven. The blue-eyed boy looks down at the person sitting down on the ground next to him.

“Harry?” Louis says, and Harry looks up at him from his cold place on the ground. “Do you remember when we prayed that I would become a bird?” He asks the curly-haired boy, with innocence across his face and in his eyes.

With his pale face only lit by the small candle settled just a few inches away from his petite feet, Louis leans into the boy in front of him, as if he is about to tell a secret. The curly-haired boy sits there patiently, waiting for the words to spill out of blue-eyed boy’s mouth.

“Now, Harry,” he whispers and looks around secretively before turning his head back to the curly-haired boy, “this is an event that requires special people with special talents.” As a reply, Harry raises his eyebrows, as if he never knew he was classified as a “special person” with a “special talent.”

“And what exactly would that talent be, Louis?” The curly-haired boy adds as his raspy voice seems to change the atmosphere of the room that gulfed in more than enough darkness.

“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a talent anymore.” Louis replies with a smirk. “Now, shush. We have a lot to do.” He resumes to his proper position, where he is sitting up straight and setting his hands on his lap as if he was in a deep state of meditation.

“Tonight, we’re going to pray for something.” Louis announces as his eyes close, and he remains in the position. If one is as close to Louis as Harry is, one could hear the deep inhales and exhales emaciating from the thinner boy’s body.

“And that something is…” Harry inquires as he lets his question trail off. Louis sits there like a statue, as if waiting for something to happen. Harry looks at the boy, taking in the way the candle reflects off of the smaller boy’s face perfectly so that his cheekbones seem to almost radiate light.

“You need to get into the position first, Harry.” Louis snaps after a full minute of silence which was full of Harry taking in the beautiful features of the boy in front of him. Harry quickly tries his best to copy the position of his dear friend, and ends up in something that is similar, though not the same. The blue-eyed boy seems to sense Harry’s change in position without opening his eyes, then finally answers Harry’s question. “We’re going to pray that I will become a bird.” He states quite normally.

“A bird – really, Louis?” Harry chuckles deeply and his rich laugh bounces off of the walls of the room giving it a slight echo. Louis flinches lightly in reply, as if offended by this four-worded comment. Harry instantly reacts to this and clears his throat. “Sorry Lou, didn’t mean it like that.” He says. “I’d love to pray that you will become a bird.” Harry adds quickly. “But why?”

“Because birds are free. They can fly away to anywhere in the flap of a feather. No one can hold them down. Birds are beautiful and elegant, too. I want to be able to fly, Harry. And be able to love who I want to love.”

“Yeah, I do.” The emerald-eyed boy nostalgically replies with a crooked smile as he reminisces about the past while Louis inches closer to the edge of the balcony. Harry does not realize this, and as each second passes, Louis gets closer and closer to the edge. Soon, there is almost nothing that separates Louis from a solid ground and thin air.

“Well,” the blue-eyed boy began, looking down at the busy street below where one can hear the horns and chattering from a distance, “I think I’m going to fly tonight.”

And he jumps.