I Wished I Said It (Larry Stylinson)

Chapter 11 Part B

Sorry this took a while but yeah. Since Hurricane Sandy is over my town, I decided to write and post it today due to the free time I had all day

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  Endless rows of books filled with creative and fictional literature were all placed up in lines, crowding up the small section for those types of books. The worn out shelves were all painted up in a admirable, velvet colour, setting up a nice, warm and educational atmosphere for people of all ages. For people to come and study in.  

Louis walked across the mud brown carpet, every step was calm and relaxed, like how he should be. But he wasn't. Instead, he was kind of bored out of his mind.

  He took a deep breath and then darted his icy blue eyes to the top shelf to read the titles of all the books again. Because, well... that was what he was basically doing this whole time.   He knew he was stalling. He barely lifted a finger on any of the booklets but just mindlessly roamed around the almost deserted lanes of the library. It's just that he couldn't get this jittery feeling out of him that something will happen, even though he had tried countless amounts of times to shake it out by distracting himself. But that just led to more pondering.   

He noticed the librarian's leer when he passed her for the sixth time up in the front where the high desk to check-out books was located. Yet, he didn't seem to be bothered by the mean and suspicious glance. He kind of ignored it, he guessed.  

The grey messenger bag was by now uncomfortable on his shoulder and so he settled himself in one of those cozy and plushy seats by the wide window and tall table.  

Too much time has passed and Louis sighed, deciding to start his studies.   Or something close to that idea because he was sure he wouldn't even do that.  

In the end, he picked to just read out some of his notes (who is he kidding, there is nothing but a bit of scribbling in his still new notebooks), and try to squeeze in the small bunch of information in his mind.   It was long and so, so, boring that it made Louis want pass out even with that strange sensation wriggling underneath his tan skin.  

He just hoped that this feeling was just an upset stomach or some shit.  

Even if he knew it wasn't.  

*  

"What are you doing here?"  

Zayn squirmed under Liam's attention, shrugging the black leather jacket on his shoulders to slide it just a bit down on his lean body.  

"Er...I wan-"  

He was cut off.  

"How do you know where I live?" Liam asked Zayn, almost gaping at him and baffled by his presence because his house address was always kept a secret. Well, at least Liam thought it was.  

Zayn coughed, glancing down at the dirty sidewalk and then back up at the guy with huge brown eyes, trying his hardest to not to show the bright pink on his high cheekbones. He knew Liam's address since he crossed paths with him seven years ago. And it's kind of embarrassing how he memorized it. Kind of really embarrassing.  

"Well...I just wanted to come down and chat, you know?"  

"But you still didn't answer my question."   The boy with pitch black eyes burned red, choking on his words again.   

"We-Well, a friend passed it down it to me when I...er... asked." He stuttered out, the lie slipping out of his mouth as he scratched the back of his neck as an act of a habit when he was put out on the spotlight.