Young & Beautiful

Eventually the clangs and the bangs died down, as did Niall’s joyously barked orders which were
peppered with laughter and loudly-clapped handshakes (Is there anybody he doesn’t get along
with? His joviality is disturbing) and Louis almost began to lull himself into a sense of normalcy,
when the tinkling thunder of keys began reigning down on his peaceful solitude.
And that’s how Louis’ room no longer became a safe haven away from Niall Horan’s existence.
It was the exasperation of the situation that prompted Louis to stand before Niall—who was now
effortlessly playing a faintly familiar piece that was both bold and gorgeous. In that moment, Louis
marveled, just a bit, at the boy before him as he explained to Louis how simple the piano was,
how freely it came to the fingers. All the while dressed in an oversized tank top and gray
sweatpants, flatbill on backwards. Classy.
“It’s obviously not that easy to play, otherwise everyone would be at it,” Louis reasoned, and
he might have rolled his eyes. With gusto.
“It really is. ‘S just not as fun as guitar.”
And Louis distinctly remembers thinking, ‘Oh, great. He plays guitar, too. Fucking excellent.’
“I can teach you if you like?” Niall continued, eying Louis eying him.
Louis scoffed at the time, causing Niall to smile and follow up with a conclusive, “I’ll teach you.”
He wanted to complain but he didn’t, instead watched Niall’s hands flit across the keys.
“They make you learn shit like this,” he explained as Louis stared, arms folded, refusing to be
impressed. “Your parents and that. It’s all part of the show.”
“Good breeding,” Louis muttered with light disdain.
“Aye, good breeding,” Niall laughed, eyes never leaving the instrument before him. “I bested
Beethoven before secondary school.”
“Of course you did. You’re a show off.” And Louis mildly wondered if the boy would take insult,
but Niall merely laughed.
“It’s easy, I’m telling you.”
And so Louis watched him (and he now realizes it’s the only time Niall is ever silent—when he
plays an instrument) before suddenly asking, “Why did you stop?” And exactly when Louis
started to care about Niall Horan’s life, he doesn’t know.
A shrug accompanied an “I liked guitar better.” And that was that.
After awhile, Niall was back to singing some unidentified 80’s song as he rummaged through
kitchen cabinets and lamented the lack of groceries.
So Louis had tried to get away.
“I’m going for a walk,” he said smoothly, slipping into his shoes and itching to hear his own
thoughts again.
“I’ll go with you!”
And fuck.
“Actually—shit—I just remembered I need to e-mail some mates back home“--e-mail still exists,