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| "but at night, while the others slept, we kept walking the tightrope. it was practice "- shane koyczan |

talking.

it felt like all they had done was talk.

neither kris nor louis exactly minded. they enjoyed each other's company. for hours they explored the town, telling the other about the pointless details of themselves, all the small flaws they dared to point out on themselves. as louis quoted, "we are odities, playing solitaire spin the bottle

trying to kiss the wounded parts of ourselves and heal."

it was around nine when they found themselves climbing into the tree of an empty house and watched the moon drag itself into the sky. they were on a natural high. it felt like they'd known each other for years and years and years.

"i should warn you," louis said, breaking away a twig. "after dark, i tend to start talking all poetic-like. it bugs the hell out of everyone when i do, so i apoligize ahead of time."

kris smiled at him. "i don't mind."

it only took ten minutes of small talk before louis began using his words much more magically than he usually did.

"i told you we're all outcasts; orphans or abandoned on the street side with the black bags filled with rotting apples and broken lightbulbs." louis held a leaf under his touch. "the parents who aren't dead just... gave us away. i can't put too much blame on them. if your kid's stick figure came to life... or if they could combust into flames at a moment's notice... few people would want that.

"thing is, kris, we're misfits in more ways than one. the first is more than obvious. the second is more internal. we have no one but ourselves, long and short of it, and that gets to a person. we drown ourselves in the idea that we're important to people, that we're still something other than circus freaks; other than freaks, lobster claw boys, and bearded ladies. but..." he exhaled, stopping himself. "inputs?"

kris sat up a little straighter. "this is going to sound idiotic, but i think we're the ones who win. everyone else is so dull and we are so radical. we can be as free as we dare; yellow spots on a black and white canvas. while everyone else is wasting their lives in tiny corners of existence, we do nothing but what we care to do; of course we're outcasts, but we're the best kind." she smiled again, feeling weightless and breathless. "and we're not alone. there's always someone out there, and freaks look out for each other, right?"

for a moment, silence. louis smiled as well, staring at her in awe.

a breath of fresh air.

then, his phone buzzed in his back pocket. louis mentally groaned and checked it.

leaving for liftoff in 10- z

zayn, louis gritted his teeth, you son of a bitch.

"we'd better start heading back." he said, putting his phone back. "we'll be going soon."

kris's smile faded. "aw." then, she grinned good-naturedly. "maybe we'll get a chance to do this again sometime."

louis laughed. "with luck."

he swung his legs over his branch and dropped onto the ground, street-side of the fence.

"alright, jump my way." louis told her.

hesitantly, kris moved herself to the smallest part of the branch she could fit on, then lept. it was only an eight foot drop, so blowing out her knees wasn't exactly a relevant worry. louis caught her by her underarms, then dropped his hands away once her feet were on the ground. the feeling of his touch lingered.

concealing ➸ tomlinsonWhere stories live. Discover now