A Thousand City Lights ➳ l.s

Chapter ➳ 7

Song for this chapter: Nina - Ed Sheeran (doesn't really have much to relate to this chapter, but it's such a good song I had to put it in)

Edited.

enjoy, my lovelies!

"We have 16,000£ left. How much longer is this trip going to take?" Louis asks.

The boys are lounging in their hotel room in sweatpants with no shirts. Louis sits delicately in the coffee brown chair, his phone alive in his hand.

"Well for starters, we're not going home any time soon." Harry answers. He stands by the window, sipping on tea that they ordered not too long ago. Harry ignores how it's already getting so cold.

"Haaarold," Louis drags out his name and removes his glasses, rubbing a hand down his face. "If you're planning on traveling longer, we have to be wise with our money. Especially since I have no idea where we're going."

Louis likes to think of himself as "well educated man" and alas, he is. And if he just got to know more details about their traveling, a.k.a where they're going, he could easily calculate how much money is needed where and how much money will be spent in that place. But Harry keeps his lips sealed.

"We're going to be fine, Lou." Harry assures. "We'll stay here for another night, and then we'll leave after lunch."

"But--"

"We're fine."

Louis sighs and stands up. He goes over to his suitcase and pulls out a fresh navy blue tee shirt and denim shorts. He searches around for other miscellaneous items and heads for the bathroom. "I'm showering. Don't bother."

"Lou--" Harry tries, but it's a little too late when Louis enters the bathroom and closes the door with a slam.

Harry sighs and sets down his really cold tea. He goes over to his own suitcase and rummages through. Moving random articles of clothing and his small nessacties, he finally finds his little notebook stuffed securely at the bottom. He spares a few glances at the thick, wooden door that Louis showers behind. His breath shakes, but he's alright.

He reaches into a small pocket department inside his suitcase and pulls out a pen. He opens to the last few pages of the notebook and begins writing.

➳

The feeling Louis got last night still remained mysteriously in the pits of his stomach as he rinsed the shampoo from his hair.

Whatever it was, it was making the trip less enjoyable for him. And for heaven's sake, he was in Amsterdam! A place with beauty and history and the sights to blow ones mind. Yet only has he truly enjoyed it.

Louis turns off the water and draws back the shower curtain. Stepping out and drying himself off with a towel, he starts getting dressed and blow drying his hair. He checks the time on his phone that reads 1:34 PM. He shoves the device in his pocket and looks intently at his reflection in the mirror.

"It's going to be a good day, Louis Tomlinson. You are in Amsterdam and everything is going to be fine. Harry says we're fine. He's fine. I'm fine. We're fine." With the little pep talk Louis gives himself, he's still not quiet sure it's true.

But he pushes down the weird feeling in his gut and shakes off all his nerves. He switches the bathroom light off and meets Harry back in their room.

Harry by now, is in the middle of his room, standing on his skateboard and messing around on it.

"Are you ever going to ride that thing?" Louis questions because he has yet to see him ride at all since they left England.

"'Course," Harry answers. He does a flip trick and smiles at himself. "Just not today."

Louis nods and sits at the edge of the bed. He reaches down and starts pulling on his shoes that lay on the floor carelessly.

"So what do you want to do today?" Harry asks, putting the skateboard in the far corner. Louis is pretty sure that Harry has a weird fetish for putting his skateboard in corners.

"You mean you don't have anything planned?" Louis says, shocked and with a little bit of annoyance seeping through his tone of voice.

Louis isn't one for conflict or arguing, but it's so stressful for him not knowing not only where they're going, but what they're going to do. Harry was the one to plan the trip and keep his mouth sealed shut. So therefore, it should be his responsibility to know what they do.

"Well, I was doing a little thinking while you showered and thought today could be a Louis day." Harry smiled big and wide at Louis, who sat there with only one shoe on and the world's dirtiest look sketched on his face.

"Oh c'mon Lou! It's a You Day. Whatever you wanna do, I'll do it with you."

Louis bites his lip and from the corner of his eye, he sees the new book he bought and has been reading sitting on a small table by the chair. He can see his red bookmark take its place almost halfway into the book.

Louis puts on his other shoe and stands up, both hands on his hip. "Fine. But we both have to agree on it. Honestly." Louis says this because he knows that there are some things that Louis likes to do that Harry doesn't. And he wouldn't be more satisfied if he saw Harry smiling that award-winning smile all day.

"Deal." Harry says.

➳

Louis chooses to go into a vintage store first. Harry agrees on this one hundred percent, so they pull open the doors and walk inside.

Immediately their noses are captivated by the smell of old books and roses. Shelves line the store in rows, each one having their own personal decor or hardback book collection.

"Louis! Look!" Harry grabs Louis' hand and intertwines them gently, guaranteeing that every finger is laced and his palm right up against Lou's.

Harry drags him across the store, walking quickly to a large sculpted boat. It's a house decoration, painted a dark forest green color with the words Amsterdam 1942 painted in yellow on the side.

"How neat is this?" Harry says. He runs his fingers along the side of the boat, feeling every carving of the wood.

Louis nods in agreement when he notices a small plaque above the sculpture. In cursive writing it gives you the sculpture's background.

1942 - Bailey A. Lennon

Bailey Lennon was a holocaust survivor. At the age of 35, Lennon sculpted this boat in honor for his father, Will Lennon, who died at the age of 56 during the holocaust.

"I wonder what this is doing here. . ." Louis says quietly to himself. Harry squeezes Louis' hand and shrugs.

"It should be put in a museum. Not in an old vintage store," Harry says. Louis nods and pulls him along to look at the rest of the store.

➳

The whole day consists of playful shoves, photos, and a little bit of vanilla ice cream topped with fudge and gummy candy.

Louis forgets all about the weird feeling in his gut, until they get back to their hotel room where Harry immediately heads straight for bed.

"Tired, huh?" Louis asks, kicking off his shoes. Harry doesn't answer.

"Harry?" Louis asks again. Harry shuffles under the blankets but doesn't say a word.

Louis goes to sit on the edge of the bed, putting his hand on Harry's shoulder. "Harry, what's wrong?"

"Go away, Lou." Harry mumbles. His voice is ten times deeper than normal and almost sleepy sounding.

Louis furrows his brows, confused. Harry was smiling and taking pictures with him just ten minutes ago. He doesn't understand, but it's too late to argue or figure out the weird puzzle Harry is laying down on the table. So Louis strips himself and falls asleep on his side of the bed. The feeling in stomach getting worse and worse by the minute.

This is supposed to be a filler with a small thriller? I don't know. I was meant to be taking a nap, but my back started hurting and I couldn't fall back asleep. So. I wrote this. I hope you enjoyed it! Possibly comment your predictions? Thank you! xoxo