you're cold and I burn (on hold)

“I need’em, so.”
Trevor gives Louis one last nod before heading off to help a customer, flagging him down for
some information. So, today couldn’t have possibly been better, not even in Louis’ dream. He’s
sure he’s applied here dozens of times, but they probably throw away all the applications after a
brief glance. With the testimony of family, hopefully he has a sure fire chance of l<strong>and</strong>ing a spot.
Of course, he’s well aware its best to not get his hopes up, but his heart is going off anyway,
beating like crazy <strong>and</strong> his cheeks hurt from smiling so fucking big. Having a job here would be
more than a dream come true. Hell, he comes here in his free time but to actually get paid? That’s
a completely different story <strong>and</strong> Louis’ already practically skipping.
He wants to call Niall, but he’s in class (the reason Louis didn’t drag his ass up here in the first
place). He’s not super artistic, but he comes with Louis all the time because he knows it makes
Louis happy. Honestly, everyone needs a friend like Niall, Louis’d probably be a hateful ball of
dark matter if not for the sunshine that beams off Niall twenty-four hours of the day.
It’s been a little lonely without the comments, questions <strong>and</strong> remarks Niall will throw in on
occasion while Louis scans the walls.
He pulls out his cell anyway, deciding a text would be sufficient <strong>and</strong> Niall will surely call him as
soon as the professor lets the class out. He settles on good news, was offered a job at my favourite
museum, can you fucking believe it !?
The building is within close walking distance, which was a definite must-have when it comes to
work, being as Louis doesn’t have a functioning car. His unfaithful ride had broken down long
ago, presumably from the lack of petrol, but Louis’ willing to bet there’s a shit load more wrong
with it. And he’s just going to start saving for a different used car, maybe have a mechanic check
it over <strong>and</strong> make sure its reliable. And give his feet a fucking break.
He’s been at the museum for well over two hours, so he’s sure Harry’s gone by now. He didn’t
leave immediately like he was planning to, still in his room even after Louis had taken a shower,
gotten ready, scarfed down a quick (<strong>and</strong> unhealthy, oops) lunch. Louis’d knocked on his door,
yelled a “see you later,” <strong>and</strong> left, wondering why Harry had been in such a rush only to hang out
behind closed doors for quite some time.
But, he’s definitely gone by now, which means Louis will have to keep his excitement at bay
about his exhilarating day until Niall gets out of class at four this afternoon.
Boo.
The sidewalks crumbles under Louis’ worn down shoes, the soles doing their very best to hang on
even after repeated abuse, non-stop wear. It was probably too far on the chilly side to just be
wearing a sweater, the wind whipping around <strong>and</strong> raising bumps all over his skin, even the parts
covered in the soft fabric. Every now <strong>and</strong> again there’ll be a distinct waft of a familiar scent, not
akin to his laundry detergent or his previously worn colognes, <strong>and</strong> Louis can only really pinpoint
it as Harry.
Which is fine, but is also confusing considering Louis hadn’t worn this around him since his last
laundry load. But, nonetheless it was still not the smartest idea to come unprepared, <strong>and</strong> if anyone
would be out in <strong>cold</strong> weather with only one layer, it’d be Louis. He’s always been bad about that,
underestimating the impact a thin layer of comfortable fabric could have against the frigid air.
Always arguing, “what’s the point of wearing this magnificent color if its going to be half covered
by another jacket, anyway?” Fashion over comfort? Not the best ideology. Oh, well.