Turquoise (L.S)

X

"Ok but I still think that it's bragging rights," A jolly Irish voice chuckled down the phone and Louis groaned lightly. For the past hour he had been filling Niall in on the past few days, including Harry's fickleness the other day. Rather than give any useful advice, his friend was rather taken by the idea of Louis getting with his mentor, because he was 'Harry Styles'.

What the Irishman failed to take into account was that the rockstar was also one of the most annoying people Louis had ever had the misfortune of meeting.

After their mini bonding session, Louis had hoped that maybe their dynamic would change a little, and it had. Rather than flirt shamelessly with the smaller boy, Harry now simply ignored him. In fact, he had not uttered a word in two days.

Louis could tell that he was angry or upset about something, but he refused to meet his eyes.

There was a strange sadness in Louis's soul. He missed seeing that all encompassing forest, even if the owner was a pain in his ass.

Whilst he lay on the bed, pretending to listen to Niall's antics, he stared at that piece of artwork, framed above him. The longer he analysed, the more uncomfortable those painted eyes made him feel. They seemed to be reaching out to him, screaming for help. They were lost, tangled in excess and loneliness.

"Look, Lou. You know I'm only playing with you right?" Louis was pulled from his thoughts and let out a confused squeak.

"You're being really quiet. I can tell it's bugging you. I'm sorry and it sucks you're in this position," The Doncaster lad raised an eyebrow at that. Niall was not one for apologies. He was a happy-go-lucky guy who would move on, rather than stick to the past, like glue. Louis was the opposite.

He quickly reassured his friend that he was not upset with him and that he just had a lot on his mind, which was true.

In less than two weeks, he would be performing on live television, in front of the biggest names in the industry and millions of viewers. He also had Harry to deal with.

Recently, he'd found himself spacing out more and more, his brain trying desperately to put the pieces together. He was doing that now, his vision never leaving that stupid picture. Why was Harry so obsessed with it anyway? The print wasn't that special and The Great Gatsby was supposed to be a boring book that people were forced to read at high school. He reckoned it was some pretentious, narcissistic complex thing.

Louis chuckled a little at his thought and then frowned. Harry's sister seeped into his mind and guilt engulfed his amusement. That had been happening a lot. He would have some derogatory thought about the rockstar, and then he would remember.

Harry Styles was broken too.

Anxiety plagued Louis's mind and he felt fidgety and uncomfortable. He needed to write something, preferably music.

"Look I'm sorry Niall, but I've got to go," He muttered into the phone and the Irishman stopped talking, mid-flow.

"Oh," He said, disappointment rich and evident in his voice. "Okay. We'll speak soon yeah?"

Louis mumbled a quick 'of course' before hanging up and throwing the phone as far as he could. It landed in a soft heap, on top of some dirty laundry he had been too lazy to put out to wash. He was not going to need it if he was going to the music room.

The Steinway called him.

===

Louis wandered down the long, winding corridors, on a mission. He yearned for that piano; for its gentle voice ringing in his ear like gold. In a rush, he almost missed the angry voices coming from one of the meeting rooms. He knew he shouldn't snoop, but a distinctly harsh tone echoed in his brain and his breath hitched as he heard the insult roll off his tongue, like water.