clean » larry stylinson

[03]

with soft hands an orange muffin is removed from the glass display it had sat in throughout the day, placed on a freshly cleaned plate and slid across the tabletop .

the night sets heavily across the town, a wave of darkness painting the sky. and with only a handful of stars gracing the dimming blue, the world is an eerie, yet beautiful, sight to behold.

there is little life about, the true movement at this late hour coming from within the old coffee shop that sits hidden just off the main road.

a brown haired, brown eyed boy stands expectantly, a doe look of what could possibly be hope spread upon his face as the corners of his lips twitch into a smile; he is waiting.

another boy sits opposite from him, though unlike the other, does not wear an apron nor bear the responsibility of locking this shop up once they are ready to go.

neither of them holds a particularly strong desire to leave; so for now, they stay.

seated in peace is the darker haired of the two, zayn. long has it been since his curly friend left. many more cups of coffee have been consumed as he too waited, alone, for this moment. his favourite part of the night.

this same muffin as before has been placed onto a small white plate and pushed hesitantly into zayn's line of vision.

a small smile is exchanged between the two as brown eyes meet, an unspoken tradition being fulfilled when the smaller of the boys sheepishly slides his inked napkin over to the other. his pen has been dancing over it all afternoon, creating artworks that he knows he will later exchange for some form of sweet delight.

truth be told however, he would work tirelessly on almost anything simply to be able to see the other boy's eyes light up.

this said boy goes by the name of liam; though he is better known as the one trying to bring back the missing piece of sunshine into louis' life, yet failing terribly at doing so.

no words are exchanged, only stolen glances and shy blushes. through an aging stereo play the words of ed sheeran. though neither boy cares to admit it, it is more than likely that if they listen closely, the artist's song speaks true, phrasing the sentences that they never will actually speak to each other.

because regardless of all of the flirtatious looks, the late night whispers, and overdoses on excessive amounts of caffeine; these two boys, liam and zayn, really are just friends.

and sometimes; a friend can be all that you ever truly need.

liam has louis. this is true, it is also true in saying that he really does love louis, with all of his heart. though he simply does not understand. he wants to, that can be assured, but in the end, when he watches his best friend wash his hands a total of seventeen times in a row, and when he hears his muffled subs echoing around the house at two in the morning each and every night, none of it makes sense to him. and each and every night, when he tried to help his friend and devour him in a warm hug, he is pushed off, rather forcefully at that, and dismissed so quickly, his heart breaks just a little.

and while it hurts him not being able to help, that's just the kind of person he is.

the minutes are dwindling past much too quickly for either boy's liking, liam lets out a small gasp of delight when he lifts the edges of the soft paper to reveal the artwork zayn has drawn, just for him, below.

traces of dark blue, red and black ink has seeped through the surface, the colours bleeding together in the most beautiful of ways.

outlines of buildings make up the bottom half of the picture, on them is scrawled graffiti, one of them even being a decorative version of liam's name.

rough sketches of what could be men in capes and masks, if you squint your eyes and allow your imagination to take over, dance through the air. superheroes tend to be in a lot of zayn's artwork's liam has noticed. his love for comic books is really quite endearing.

the most noticeable part of the drawing however, is the large double-digit number, taking up a good proportion of the napkin.

noticing liam's curious face, zayn elaborates, "it's my age- 'twas my birthday a few days back now."

liam has to laugh at zayn's peculiar way of telling him this; dedicating a whole picture to his new age, rather than just letting him know on the day itself, especially considering that zayn would have wandered in at some point for he comes each afternoon without fail. regardless, he is pulled into a large, but very manly hug from the other, and wished a very happy birthday.

"do you want to come over tomorrow night to my place?" zayn inquired, toning his voice as best he could to not have it sound as though he were asking the other boy out on a date. "i'm havin' a sort of gathering there to celebrate making it to another year..."

"like a party?" liam asked, feeling rather flattered to be invited.

zayn shook his head, "unless you consider four people and a hell of a lot of pizza sittin' round watching movies to be a party," he pauses, "nope. just uh- my friends and food basically."

this most certainly made liam feel even more flattered.

"so no dancing?" he asked smiling.

the horrified look from zayn confirmed that there would be absolutely no dancing.

"i'm in!" liam began to clear away the crumbs left behind on surrounding tables as he gathered the details. in the process he snagged zayn's mobile number, chuckling when he saw that the screen of zayn's phone had been smashed basically into oblivion, yet surprisingly still managed to turn itself on.

it was only when the lights were dimmed, and both of them stood outside the shop, liam having finally ushered them both out so he could lock the door, did he realise something that only someone with a soul as kind as his own would worry about.

though on days like these he often did arrive back to louis' apartment quite late it had been months since he'd ever actually left him a whole night. though he could tell that at times he wasn't particularly wanted there, he knew better than to leave somebody that could quite possibly be a suicide risk alone. liam didn't mind looking after his best friend; he felt somewhat responsible for him after witnessing him at such a low point, and god-forbid louis was ever going to let his family care for him.

he held back a sigh as he came to the conclusion that louis did however, need more friends.

"-hey zayn?"

"hmm?"

"erm would it be alright if..." liam didn't know how to ask what he was about to ask without sounding rude, "i was wondering if could i maybe bring someone with me over to yours?"

a confusing flicker of jealousy ran through zayn as he processed this and raised his eyebrow curiously. he asked his friend if it was partner, be it a boyfriend or a girlfriend, he was hoping to bring. when liam declined this another equally confusing flicker of relief was felt.

liam explained his lonely friend's circumstances whilst still managing to suppress a great deal of the truth in regards to louis situation.

and who was zayn to turn down the brown, puppy-dog eyes that seemed to be permanently strung into liam's expression?

though the darkness was nearing the end of its peak, meaning that the two boys had probably stayed talking for a few hours too many, louis was of course still wide awake when the time came for liam to swiftly manoeuvre his way back into the flat. like always, a quick glance was thrown in louis' direction, discreetly observing for any signs that louis may have had a breakdown of whatever sort while he was gone.

he had not. instead he was sitting cross-legged upon his bed, staring at a wall.

he seemed reluctant to speak to liam, instead giving him a miniscule, yet genuine smile, and a wish goodnight before continuing to gaze into the abyss. liam would tell him about his plans for the two of them in the morning, after they both woke; not that louis would be getting much sleep that night.

...

author note: as cute as zayn and liam are together i promise this is a larry fic! now let the story begin ...

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