Beautiful Silent Boy [L.S]

Endlessly (Short Chapter)

(HARRY POV)

I let the words he said sink into my head. Here he was, falling apart and bursting at the seams.

"What do you mean? Are you really going to let these people control your life? They mean nothing in the real world Louis! They will be nothing to you when all this is over. Think about it! High school is so pointless and stupid. It's filled with a bunch of people trying to figure out who they are! And since they don't know, or can't except it, they try to prevent others from doing it too. They want everyone else to be just as miserable as they are. They take the best of people, the gems that have been slowly uncovered, and they dump a pile of shit on it so they won't shine. Louis, you have to believe me. You are so much more than they will tell you, than you will allow yourself to believe. I'm not a bullshitter, that was the type of person my dad was, and I refuse to be anything like him!" I actually felt as though I was shouting. My anger had consumed me and I too, had let little things slip out of my mouth.

Louis looked up at me. He seemed to be searching for words to say, but in the end he kept to his silence. And then, he moved his hands.

I looked down at them, and it looked like he was signing me something.

"When words fail, action's prevail." He signed.

He looked back down, and folded his hands together.

I tapped him on the knee, and got his attention.

I signed him, "If our words are not strong enough to carry our will, then our hearts must have many untold stories and tales."

His eyes widened.

I signed again. "The words of wisdom don't seep out of the mouths of those who produce defecation, but float out of the souls that have been bound to silence. They sit; they observe. They are the ones who have the least to say, but have the most experiences. That would be someone like you."

He watched each movement carefully.

Then he signed back, "but if we are kept to silence, our bearing is no more than that of delicate butterfly wings."

I thought for a moment.

"But our wings spread and make countless journeys, and see things that no one has had the privilege to. Is it not more worthy then, than that of hard shoulders?"

He shook his head. "My wings are but broken, and my shoulders have chips. I cannot offer more than what I am; nothing."

I shook my head and grabbed his hands, and looked into his eyes.

"You are not nothing, you are everything. Your body has been graced with matter and the secrets to which binds our universe. The energy in each cell of your body is incredible. Do not discredit yourself. We can say we are only human, but what does that truly mean to be human?" I said to him.

His voice shook a bit, but he replied, "I don't know. I can't win in this argument. I can't. I know what you say is true, but I refuse to believe it. I cannot see it. My eyes are wide open, but the landscape has faded. I'm calling, but it falls on deaf ears. I have made no more of a presence than anyone else here. It's like I'm not even here."

We both spoke with truth to our words. More than I could expect from either of us at three in the morning, but they held value. These conversations are the ones that are meant to be kept forever, just like the answers to our dreams. You reflect, you recall, and then you seal them away again, waiting for better days. The process just continues over and over. How can a person not realize that?

"Louis, you never cease to amaze me, both with brilliance and stupidity. You are an amazing person with a unique personality, but you are so silly to believe what you have been told. The irrelevance of such negative words is through the charts! You can't tell me that you're so ignorant to believe in such pathetic words. You can't tell me that you're too lazy to fight against these things. Your will, is fierce. You've lived through much more than I have had privy to know, and yet you still believe that you are nothing. It's shocking."

I hoped that my words were starting to sink it, that he was starting to believe in what I had been trying to tell him. I couldn't sit by and watch the light fade from his eyes. I couldn't sit here with him in my arms, and become broken.

"It just takes time Harry. It takes so much time. Years upon years have I lived like this with little intervention. It was a steady stream. It can't be broken in a day."

"But perhaps it can begin?"

"Time," was all he said.

He laid back down, and I felt his weight sink into the mattress. I could tell how worn he was.

"FUCK!" He yelled for a moment.

"What now?"

"I haven't done any of the homework," he whined.

I hit him over the head with a pillow.

"Even after all this, you're worried about your academics you twat!"

"Well," he breathed.

"Gah, go to sleep you goofy boy," I said with a mocking tone, and laid down next to him. I pulled him close against my chest, and rested my arms just above his waist.

He let his head sink lower into the pillow, putting one hand underneath of it, and the other rested on mine.

I smiled and let the boy sleep. I could see the steady rise and fall of his chest, and his breathing had become even.

I waited, as the hours passed. I knew I wasn't going back to sleep at this point, but I didn't care. He shifted a lot, a fidgety boy really.

He had rolled over so that his face was just inches from my own. His legs had managed to settle between my own and one hand had landed on my face.

I laughed silently and watched him sleep. His little fingers twitched and his nose wriggled. He would make small squeaks, and his eyes would flutter a bit.

I wanted to reach out and touch him, but I didn't want to wake him, so I just watched.

The sun had started to come up behind my back, and I watched as a glorious gold tint had settled on his hair. It was a mess of hues, and some strands became brighter than others.

I mapped the detail with my mind, sealing it away with other observations.

His lips were pale, but still settled with a light pink colour, and his eye lashes fanned out. His features looked very peaceful.

I curled one hand under my head, and just sat there and looked at him. It was funny just how beautiful this boy actually was.

He was so tiny, yet somehow he managed to be older than me; that I still didn't quite understand.

Even on our roughest of nights, I found that I could love him just as much as I had when he was a giggling fool. It made no difference to me. Yes, I loved this boy endlessly.