you're cold and I burn (on hold)

Chapter 9
Chapter Summary
Louis loses his patience, Harry loses his balance.
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
He’s never felt more empowered as he did walking out of that damn building without looking
back. He can’t seem to shake the disgusting words from his head, hearing them over <strong>and</strong> over
again, taunting him. He can truthfully say he’s never felt so much hatred towards someone he
doesn’t even know, but in his head he’s justified it. He was expecting this night to end in flames,
he really was, but he wasn’t expecting this. He was waiting for snide remarks from his father,
possibly from Liam, <strong>and</strong> every other tight-ass that attended. He was just going to down some
alcohol, though he’s not even a drinker, <strong>and</strong> hope it was enough to make their voices a blur so that
he could ignore them altogether.
Instead, he got a blast from Harry’s past in the form of a flashy <strong>and</strong> arrogant snake.
He could’ve easily walked out without a word, they don’t deserve an explanation, but he wouldn’t
have forgiven himself if he hadn’t at least been an asshole with demeaning remarks to throw
Royce right off his fucking high horse. And he feels pretty great about it, actually.
Waiting for Harry to show up is the longest ten minutes of Louis’ life. And he’s not going to
pretend that he’s not half expecting Harry to not show up, having a déjà vu of the grocery
shopping trip from hell. Outside, it’s freezing fucking <strong>cold</strong> <strong>and</strong> Louis tucks his h<strong>and</strong>s away into
the pockets of his pants, chewing on the insides of his cheeks to distract himself from the way the
air seems to be crawling all over his face <strong>and</strong> peeling away any warmth he has lingering around.
He can see his breath, he can see the little clouds forming from the professed anger that stays
attached to the insides of his lungs.
Cars roll by every once in a while, rubber tires crackling on the perfectly pressed pavement <strong>and</strong>
Louis makes a realization. He’s never been the type to fancy luxuries such as this place,
everything being gold <strong>and</strong> shiny <strong>and</strong> marble floors, makes everything seem so uninviting <strong>and</strong>..
stale? Is that the word? His father’s house is just like this, pristine <strong>and</strong> unwelcoming, breakable
things all over the tables, counters <strong>and</strong> walls. Hell, the teal blue vase in the living room probably
costs more than a house, what’s the point of that? It’s a fucking vase.
He wants to be successful, he wants to be able to afford stuff that he likes but he has no immediate
desire to live in a museum, where you’re scared to touch anything fearing your fingerprints will
ruin the pure beauty. All he wants is to be able to survive without worrying about money, not this,
not the way his dad lives <strong>and</strong> not the way Liam wants to, it makes him sneer, the action hurting his
dry face.
He can almost hear the chaos from inside over his abrupt dismissal. He hopes that his words are
going to echo inside of Royce’s head, he hopes that it takes his ego <strong>and</strong> smothers it completely,
withers him. But, unfortunately, words never seem to penetrate anything when it comes to
stubborn <strong>and</strong> entitled pricks, he knows first h<strong>and</strong> after endless arguments with his own father.