COLOR || Larry Stylinson

Green

The next time Louis walks into Room 15, there is silence. It's just Harry, sitting on that ugly chair, staring (but not really) out the window, looking deep in thought.

Louis sets down his things sassily and sits in his chair. The chair, conveniently, has already been drawn and positioned across from Harry.

"What? No greeting? No abstract question?"

Upon hearing Louis's voice, Harry's face lightens and he turns in the direction of him. "Ah, Lou Will. Lovely to be with you."

Louis blushes and smiles. "Thanks. Lovely to be with you, too."

"So, about the color today –" Harry starts, but Louis swiftly interjects.

"Actually, Curly, I was thinking that I choose the color today. How 'bout it?"

Harry smiles knowingly, his green eyes piercing Louis in a way they shouldn't. "What color?"

Louis ponders for a moment, searching the bleak room for inspiration. "Green. What do you know about green?"

Harry smiles, a slender finger positioned smartly on his chin. "My eyes are green."

"No they aren't," Louis argues.

Harry is confused, his eyebrows pinching together. "Wh- are they – are they brown? Or-"

"No, no!" Louis giggles, thwacking Harry's forearm playfully. "They're more than green. They're like a mix of colors, but it's not even colors. It's like a small part of everything beautiful and infinite broke off of the Universe and made home in your eye sockets."

Harry seems stunned for a few moments, considering Louis's words, and then he smiles shyly. "Really?"

Louis smiles fondly and brushes a lock of Harry's hair out of his eyes. "Yeah."

Harry places his hand over Louis's, holding it like it's something precious and closing his eyes.  "Thank you, Lou Will. Now, for real, tell me about green."

"Well," Louis begins, sliding his hand off of Harry's pale face, "green is nature. It's the grass, and the trees, and all the plants. Green is mysterious, I think. Because it can be light and fun like a lime, but it can also be dark and enthralling. Like a forest. Green is fresh, too, like an apple. It's woodsy, and comforting, and it always hits close to home. I think if green was a person, he'd be calm and cool, but he'd also have like this wild side, you know? One that only comes out when it's dark and late. And, also, green is seclusion. He's probably that one guy that likes to be alone."

Harry is quiet, at first, but then he breaks into applause, each clap of his hand slow and meaningful. "Thank you, Lou Will. I think that was your best one yet."

"You're very welcome, Curly."

"Can I tell you something, Lou Will?" Harry mutters quietly, picking at his nails sheepishly. Louis' heart beats quicker, because the sun is shining directly behind Harry and it highlights him perfectly, pointing out all his perfect flaws and making his sharp edges softer, lovelier.

"Of course."

"I think your voice is green," Harry says thoughtfully. "Because it's mysterious, too, like you said. And it's very pretty. I always thought green to be a pretty color."

Louis blushes (and he doesn't even mind, this time) and makes a dopey face. "Why, thank you, Curly."

They chat for a few more minutes (being maybe a bit too generous on this compliments) when Harry briefly stops their conversation on the color of butterfly wings.

"You know what's weird, Lou Will? I don't really know much about you, other than the fact that you're breathtakingly beautiful and your voice is green. And we're going on a date on Saturday! My, my, we'll have nothing to talk about."

Louis smiles sarcastically. "And we can't have that. So, shoot, Curly – what would you like to know?"

"Everything."

"Ohh, everything, now?" Louis teases. "Well, I'm 23. Just got my bachelor's degree at a uni in New York on psychology. You're actually my first patient –"

Louis is interrupted by Harry cooing fondly and placing a hand over his heart. "Wow, I'm your first patient? I'm honored."

Louis smirks. "You should be. Anyway, I live here now. In Manchester. In this lonely old apartment with me cat, Beau."

Harry keeps asking questions, and Louis keeps answering them as best he can. For some reason, Harry finds it funny that Louis's favorite book is, at the moment, The Fault in Our Stars ("Hey! It could be considered a classic, Curly!" "No, no! What about the good stuff, like Bronte and Austen and Wilde?) (Apparently, Harry is into ancient poetry about stupid things like love). And of course, the conversation ends with:

"So, Lou Will, what's your favorite color?"

To which Louis replies with, "Your eyes."

Chapter end notes: Helloooo loves. There's another chapter. Hope you enjoyed xx.  Oh! And there's this one song that (kinda?) fits with this story. From Louis's POV. And it's called "God Damn You're Beautiful" by Chester See. Idk. I just like the pianos and the words and it just reminds me of this story, okay?