you're cold and I burn (on hold)

And he doesn’t want stress to always have him locked away from things like this, from peace.
Every single day; it’s bills, how to pay them on time when money is even more scarce than
happiness. It’s the empty canvas that taunts him, because his mind is drawing blanks <strong>and</strong> his jaw is
locking up, why can’t he think? It’s the worry about getting a new job, how to speak to people
without stuttering <strong>and</strong> losing his train of thought. It’s not having a car, not feeling like an adult <strong>and</strong>
it’s being the disgrace of your family. They wanted him to be so much more, but he’s as much as
he can be.
But right now the bills are a breeze, the canvas is the crinkled dirt, the social phobia is the
sunlight.
Louis’ bathing in the quiescent essence, he’s letting it soak into his skin <strong>and</strong> coat his tired face.
He’s lost in the unutterable content <strong>and</strong> he never wants to open his eyes <strong>and</strong> deal with any
urgency, he doesn’t want to get up <strong>and</strong> walk to face someone he doesn’t underst<strong>and</strong>. His bones
ache with the memory of never being good enough to earn praise from the people who meant
most to him in the world, <strong>and</strong> how the only thing that seemed to help was walking in the backyard
<strong>and</strong> staring at the flowers. Memorizing the symmetry, the colors <strong>and</strong> patterns. How they grew
without scrutiny, how they danced so carefree, how they were beautiful without interruption. The
inspiration behind what made Louis who he was, <strong>and</strong> who he wanted to be.
“Louis?” A smooth, familiar voice shatters the walled serenity, “I’ll be damned.”
Zayn fucking Malik. Gorgeous, maybe the most gorgeous features Louis has laid eyes on to this
day, psychology major. The indefinite boyfriend of Louis’ overly sophisticated step brother, Liam.
It’s devastatingly rare that Louis gets to ever see him out, he’s always in class, or with Liam (who
Louis’ playing the silent game with.)
Louis smiles down at his ab<strong>and</strong>oned plate, before meeting Zayn’s deep brown eyes. They always
seem to bore into you until you’re so uncomfortable you’re spilling your entire life story to him,
making you feel bare. “Well well well, look who crawled out of Liam’s ass.”
“Oh, ok, now I remember why I don’t actually like you, thanks for the reminder.” Zayn laughs,
motioning towards the empty chair at Louis <strong>and</strong> Niall’s table. Louis gives him a quick nod,
accepting his request.
“Liam’s been pretty M.I.A lately, haven’t heard from him, what’s been going on?” Niall enquires,
sipping away at him empty drink, making an extremely annoying slurping noise.
“He <strong>and</strong> Louis are being children.” Zayn shrugs, flipping nonchalantly through the menu, “Are
the burgers here any good? You know I’m kind of a burger snob.”
“He’s the one being a child,” Louis holds up his index finger, brows raised, “<strong>and</strong> you honestly
can’t go wrong with a burger, it’s meat between a bun, simple as it gets.”
Zayn’s mouth pops open, <strong>and</strong> Louis doesn’t admit that he’s having trouble deciphering if he’s
actually offended or he’s pretending.
“It can be overcooked <strong>and</strong> taste like a piece of <strong>burn</strong>t rubber, the meat can be low-grade, the burger
can be too greasy, it could be under or under seasoned, I could go on for days.”
“I usually get the grilled chicken salad,” Louis offers, choosing not to respond to the list of burgerdon’ts
Zayn has laid out. If its food, its edible, <strong>and</strong> Louis’ not keen on turning into a master critic
when looking through a menu.
“Hm,” Zayn scrunches up his nose, “you eat like a rabbit, gross.”