you're cold and I burn (on hold)

grace period to see if that helps anything. I’m giving you till the end of the month <strong>and</strong> if the rent is
still not delivered, I’m sorry to say that your residency will be terminated <strong>and</strong> you will have to find
other grounds to live on. Give me a call if you have any questions, <strong>and</strong> have a great day. Hope to
receive the payment from you sooner versus later.” And then the line goes dead.
There’s an odd mixture of relief <strong>and</strong> panic. Because great, he wasn’t immediately kicked out, but
how the hell is he supposed to come up with the money by the end of this month, considering a
job won’t pay until two weeks after your first day? His entire body is aching to get home <strong>and</strong> sit in
his lavender living room with scent of his c<strong>and</strong>les floating all around him. Louis’ trying to remain
as calm as humanly possible <strong>and</strong> not let the stress fade evidently over his face. But it’s just not
possible. He’s going to loose his house, <strong>and</strong> the thought is starting to become grave <strong>and</strong>
unchangeable.
A text from Niall tries to snap him from his thoughts, but worry has already engulfed him <strong>and</strong>
there’s no escaping it this time. He pulls his sweater up to his nose, using the sleeves to cover his
face <strong>and</strong> letting the soft color overtake him. He’s messing up, screwing himself <strong>and</strong> his life over,
<strong>and</strong> he just wants to be happy. He only wants to be happy.
Why is that so much to fucking ask for?
He’s being childish <strong>and</strong> immature, running away from his problems, that much is obvious. But no
matter how hard he’s trying, he can’t break himself from what he loves to do, the only thing that
makes him feel like a normal person. Everything else is too hard to comprehend <strong>and</strong> it makes him
feel like an idiot, like he’s not good enough. But there’s this sense of pride that washes over him
every time he lays eyes on the art he’s created. The feeling simply can’t be matched. His phone
continues to vibrate, <strong>and</strong> Niall’s calling now, so Louis raises the phone to his ear <strong>and</strong> paints a
smile on his face that could fool anyone, maybe even himself.
“Sorry mate, didn’t see your message until just a second ago, are you here already?” Louis says,
keeping his voice light <strong>and</strong> acting like he isn’t drowning in his own mind.
“Yeah, right outside the doors, wanna meet me out here? Gotta present for you!”
“If it’s anal beads, return them immediately, I’ve already got enough.” Louis jokes (half jokes),
waiting for Niall to hang up before putting the phone up <strong>and</strong> walking towards the front door. Niall
is waiting right beside them, looking akin to a fucking ray of sunshine with a smile plastered on
his face that can probably be seen from the moon.
“There’ya are, look here, <strong>and</strong> don’t get too excited. There’s no toys.” Niall pulls his h<strong>and</strong> from
behind his back, <strong>and</strong> there’s a tiny little statue. It’s kind of abstract, but it’s smooth as marble <strong>and</strong>
it’s tinted in lavender. Louis blinks as he holds the little sculpture between shaking fingers. “How
did you know.. about the lavender?”
“Talked to Liam last night, was asking if he knew how to help me with this math question I had
been stuck on for hours. We got to talking about you. Said you were on a lavender kick <strong>and</strong> I
immediately thought of you when I saw it passing the shops right over there.” Niall explained,
pointing to the tiny antique shop right down the street. “And you better appreciate it, you little
fuck, I stood in line for a whole three minutes."
Louis could only nod along, at a loss for words as he ran his touch over the smooth material. It’s
the prettiest thing he’s seen, <strong>and</strong> he cannot wait to get home <strong>and</strong> put it right in the middle of his
coffee table. Niall is probably (not probably, most definitely) the best, best friend anyone could
ever ask for. He’s rocking back <strong>and</strong> forth on his feet <strong>and</strong> looking expectantly at Louis <strong>and</strong> his new
addition. Worry is replaced temporarily with appreciation <strong>and</strong> the warmth that only beauty could
give him, along with a certain calming shade of purple. “Three minutes? You were withering