Letters to the Author -Larry Stylinson

chapter three

Louis had always been one to stay at home, watch old movies on his laptop, and write little short stories that he would never show anyone. These were his favourite days, and he hated to be interrupted, especially if he was in the middle of watching funny YouTube videos that Niall always shared with him.

But, his wish was not granted today. He was laying in his bed, his legs crossed at the ankles and a pair of white socks on his small feet. There was a pumpkin scented candle burning on his bedside table, making his whole room smell and feel warm. He loved to have it clean, especially when he was studying. He was taking a study break, though, his books stacked up neatly on the floor next to him with a little note of encouragement so he would remember to go back to studying later. He guessed it wasn't quite a good idea to keep his laptop so close to him, but everybody needed a break, even a person with perfect marks such as him.

Lucile laid lazily next to him, her side pressed up against Louis' thigh, and the boy occasionally stroked her white fur with his fingers in hopes she would stay. He was open to, as embarrassing as it was, Harry Styles' twitter. He always tweeted random quotes, and some Louis recognized from one of his books. Sometimes, though, he tweeted weird sayings and fun facts, and they always managed to make Louis smile. Just his profile picture, his stupid profile picture of him smiling cheesily at one of his book signings, his curls touching his shoulders and his tattooed arm showing, made Louis feel some type of way.

But no, he could not have a nice day in. His phone rang loudly, vibrating on his lap, and he picked up it up grumpily, not looking at the caller ID.

"Hello?" He said tiredly, letting out a quiet yawn and squinting his eyes shut in the process. The action caused his glasses to slip off of his nose and onto his laptop loudly. "Crap."

"Louis, this is an emergency. We've called all the employees in to help."

Louis chuckled at his manager's worried voice. His usual low and husky tone got all squeaky and high when he was in a bad situation, something him and Liam always talked about to fill in the awkward silences when they were working together. But Louis secretly loved the guy, they were very mischievous together despite his authority over Louis.

"What happened?" Louis smiled, shaking his head and putting his glasses back on. 

"The machines broke. Coffee everywhere. If you happen to have a mop at your flat, that would be very much appreciated."

Louis' eyes widened and he held in a laugh. "No, I don't have a mop, but I'll be there soon. Just, don't freak out, okay Ethan?"

The older man sighed, chuckling to himself before hanging up the phone. Louis laughed, putting his cell in his pocket and shutting his laptop reluctantly. Lucile looked up at him with wide green eyes, obviously a bit annoyed at Louis moving around. "Sorry, kitten. I've to go to the coffee shop. Emergency spill."

He gave her a quick pat on the head, standing up and switching from an old shirt to a big sweatshirt. 

"Time to pick up a mess," he murmured, slipping his black vans on and turning off the lights before leaving and shutting the door behind him.

It took about an hour and a half for all of the available employees at the Donnie Cafe to soak up the coffee mess. Louis was sweaty by the time it was over, partly from laughing so hardly at Liam's struggles. He constantly was falling over, claiming he didn't have good balance when he was on his knees. That was what made Louis laugh, but he just told Liam he was making fun of him.

He ended up going home and sleeping until the next morning.

***

Louis had always loved quotes. They were perhaps one of his favourite things in the world; he looked them up online whenever he was down. He hoped he wasn't the only person that liked to read depressing quotes when he was depressed. The thing he hated the most was being sad without a proper reason. It was like trying to look for something and not knowing what it is you were looking for. But the worst part about it was that Louis felt like he didn't know himself, like he should be completely aware and understanding of why he felt sad. You would think that if you were with your body every second of the day, every day or your life, you would be able to identify what the thing was that made you sad. You would be able to trace your emotions to something.