you're cold and I burn (on hold)

are dead set on Louis’ face. It is nice, you just get certain feels from each place <strong>and</strong> some feel
better than others. That pretty cafe makes him feel warm <strong>and</strong> was the inspiration behind the
cappuccino theme he went through a few months back.
“Remind me again, why t’hell are we friends?”
“Because you love me <strong>and</strong> my step brother helps you with your math homework, so you have to
hangout with me. Plus, don’t act like you don’t enjoy my presence, I’m a pleasure to have.”
“What an elated ego you’ve got there.”
“What an eloquently annoying voice you’ve got there.” Louis fires back, scrunching his nose in
Niall’s direction. “I’m just trying to be confident <strong>and</strong> it’s not hard when you’re as dapper as I, my
dear friend.”
“Shut the fuck up.” Niall turns away, walking towards the door without looking back. He really is
ready to get the hell out of here <strong>and</strong> Louis’ pretty sure he’s trying his best not to fully sprint out the
door. He just doesn’t appreciate art.
Louis’ right on his heels, trying to match his strides with (unfortunately) short legs, though they’re
still equipped with a pair of thighs that he’s more than proud to showcase in skinny jeans on a
regular basis. In fact, Louis is just petite by nature, <strong>and</strong> that’s okay because he’s never been super
insecure about it. Until someone thinks calling him ‘tiny’ is funny. Which is just stupid, in his
honest opinion. St<strong>and</strong>ing in front of a mirror <strong>and</strong> scrutinizing every little thing about your
appearance, like the color of your eyes or the size of your nose, is just proper useless. And it’s
substantially easier to appreciate your own unique beauty when you’ve acknowledged it’s there in
the first place.
Finding the buried <strong>and</strong> hidden beauty in every thing has always been something Louis has loved
to do. It’s a shame that the world is so easily looked over. And how you can walk past a tree <strong>and</strong>
not see the way the sun filters through the leaves <strong>and</strong> is complimented by the rough hickory brown
of the bark. Or the natural symmetry of the flowers lining the pavement, the soft mixture of colors
that seem to be painted in pastel shades, all at the h<strong>and</strong> of something more magnificent than he’ll
ever underst<strong>and</strong>. It’s impressive, <strong>and</strong> it’s all so minuscule that if you’re not paying attention, you
could miss it completely. That goes for people as well. Too much time is spent hating specific
things, when there is so much to appreciate.
Like the girl in his psychology class who hated her small lips, but didn’t see the way her
cheekbones lined her face <strong>and</strong> shaded her skin in just the right places. Or when he hears someone
with brown eyes say it’s a dull color, that they hate it. But upon closer inspection, they’d see the
compilation of creamy caramel <strong>and</strong> chocolate embers that are peppered into each inch of their iris’.
Igniting the esteem in a person brings out that ability to see without a veil of what beauty is
supposed to be, <strong>and</strong> what’s aesthetically pleasing to you may not be what the articles in your
magazine say. And that’s okay.
Niall is walking in step with Louis, pairing the sound of soles hitting the concrete in accidental
synchronization. The night sky is cloaked over London <strong>and</strong> everything sleeps protectively
underneath. The moon is casting a path <strong>and</strong> it’s unobscured shine is free to flow without the city
lights trying in unnecessary competition.
“The truck is parked over here, public transportation isn’t my thing, too much waiting.”
“Patience is a virtue.” Louis smiles, at least a tad bit happier that he doesn’t have to wait for the
tube.