A Thousand City Lights ➳ l.s

Chapter ➳ 11

Song: Blame It On Me - Ezra (I believe that's the name....if someone knows his real name, please correct me in the comments)

I wanted this to be longer, but I had to stop it where I did because otherwise the book would have ended earlier than I wanted it to...I hope you guys understand! Thank you. Enjoy!! xoxo

Louis knew the world was big. Like, really big. And it is. But he didn't know how much this big world held. He was beginning to learn that there's more to explore in the world than it's pages in a book. All because of the curly headed boy who, currently, is throwing pebbles into a lake.

"Are you trying to skip rock? Because you suck," Louis commented.

Harry shot daggers towards Louis. "I'll let go." he threatened. Louis looks down at their clasped hands between them. His palm feels sweaty, he can tell, but he doesn't dare let go to wipe it off.

"Kidding." Louis says, smiling up at the taller lad. Harry smiles back, then faces the water.

"It's literally just you and me." Harry says suddenly.

Sometimes, Louis thinks Harry is a secret writer. Or poet. His thoughts are a lot deeper and meaningful than he thought.

Harry's words are like rose petals that drift so beautifully through the wind. The sun's rays catch them and make them glow and shine. They're soft, too, and slow and silky and so many other lovely things that Louis couldn't possibly name them all.

Louis would read all his work, to be honest.

"It is," Louis says now, "I kinda like it. Don't you, Harold?" Harry nods.

"'Course. But you know what would be even better than this?" Harry asks.

Louis shrugs, without a clue. He watches as Harry leans down to pick up another pebble. This time, Harry makes it skip across the water a total of six times. Plop, plop, plop, plop, plop, plop. Louis' hand sweats a bit more.

"No. What?" he asks.

"A party." Harry answers. He bounces on the balls of his feet and smiles triumphantly.

"A party?" says Louis, his tone flat and not very enthusiastic.

"Yes!" Harry replies.

Louis sighs. Long and hard. He even lets go of Harry's hand so he can pinch the bridge of his nose. His eyes close and he's shaking his head. He can feel Harry's frown.

"I can't do that." Louis confesses. Although it's not really a confession. Harry should know.

Harry crosses his arms over his chest like a child. "Why not?"

Louis rolls his eyes. "You know why."

Harry shakes his head. "Enlighten me." That makes Louis laugh.

"Harry, you know I don't do well with crowds. It's too much anxiety and then there will be drinking and drugs and all this illegal substances. And oh. Oh god. Harry, there's gonna be violence. There's always violence."

Harry chuckles at Louis and puts both hands on his shoulders. "Lou, no one said you had to drink or do drugs. And there's a slim chance-a very slim chance-that there will be violence at this party. Or any party."

"There's always violence." Louis repeats.

Harry groans. He knows there's no way in hell that he can talk Louis into going to a party. But he has to. Must, even.

He tries again.

"Go with me to this party," Harry says. "and I promise that you won't have to drink, smoke, fight, or talk to anyone."