Mute Larry Stylinson Harry!Mute

Saturday 16 (part one )

Saturday 16 

Louis wasn’t overly spritely, but he did have a slight spring in his step as he made his way from his flat to the Uni. There wasn’t much of a reason to be so ‘excited’, but his limbs felt light and he felt the sparkle in his eye gleam that little bit brighter, even with the lack of reason. Maybe he just woke up on the right side of the bed, and anyway, there didn’t have to be a reason for him to be happy; he could be joyful if he wanted to be.

Although, that wasn’t really the case. The past two weeks had felt –and he will continue to feel like so until he gets himself out of this mess– like a laborious task from the second he woke up to the second his mind shut down for the night. It was all down to his annoying dose of word vomit when he spoke to his three best mates. He felt like he shouldn’t have had a release from the ‘torture’, though, that he should have been miserable all the time to pay for the awful act he committed.  So with that thought, trying to do at least one thing right –in his mind anyway, being down was the only thing he could do right supposedly–, he was a rather miserable twat unless he was by himself.

Except he was never really by himself. Well, in Louis’ terms anyway. He’s engrossed himself in dance. When he was dancing he didn’t feel like he was alone, even when it was in the dead of night and he had had to sneak into the dance studio, regardless of the fact that the place was abandoned. He was with his thoughts, yes, but he was with dance. And that was enough to keep him sane. Louis would never really be able to explain dance to anyone, never be able to explain how dance made him feel; it was an unexplainable, almost numinous, product of life.

It wasn’t unusual, Louis falling into the abyss of dance, it had happened before. He had had times of succumbing to the barre and mirrored walls. Ever since he had started dancing at –what, eight years old?– he’d known that dance was his release. Even if it was him just being annoyed at Christopher in year 4 for telling the teacher that he cheated on the spelling test, it helped him smooth out those worry-creases. The people close to him were used to it; they put up with it and found nothing suspicious in his actions whatsoever. So they didn’t presume that this time, Louis had an awful bout of inner turmoil going on inside his chest.

But somehow, this morning all this anguish had dissipated into little drips of sweat trickling down his neck and soaked into the collar of his skimpy t-shirt. Maybe it from being called at two in the morning and being demanded to drag himself to the dance studio to see Harley and Jordan to, basically, please their drunken minds. They were a little tipsy and for some reason wanted Louis to help them with their dancing, which was horrendous, as confirmed by the story of Jordan being rejected by a girl a few hours earlier when they were dancing. But Louis obliged because he couldn’t sleep anyway and the two boys were some of the nicest lads around, so he wouldn’t pass up on spending time with them anyway.

Or maybe he was light heated because he was looking forward to seeing his boyfriend.

Okay, so maybe Louis blushed a little every time he said ‘boyfriend’, and maybe he giggled like a schoolgirl some nights when he got home from seeing Harry, just maybe. He’d never gotten so excited over the term ‘boyfriend’ before, and it’d been used by him a fair few times already; so it was strange when he suddenly got fluttering butterflies in his stomach all over that one word. As much as Louis found it strange to admit, it was probably just his body’s way of telling him to keep a tight hold over this one; that he wasn’t just anyone.

That’s not saying that Harry was 'the one' because, well, first comes first is the fact that Louis didn’t even love Harry yet. They hadn’t been dating all too long so he would never be able to say said statement for a long while. But he was someone special, and Louis could accept that with his whole heart and not be fearful of it in the slightest.