The Exceptionals

Chapter Five: Thunderstruck

Piano Man - Billy Joel

The faint crescent moon gleamed like a silvery ring out in the night's dusk as pitch darkness bled inside his room as he lay wide awake on top of his rumpled sheets with his fingers skilfully interlocked on top of his chest, slowly breathing up and down as he's eyes remained sharp on the roof of his room, millions of thoughts flooding Louis' mind as he felt the clothes on his body cling to him coldly and wetly.

The room was dark with a flicker of moonlight apprehensively slithering through his closed curtains. He had been tapping his finger anxiously on top of his palm for the last thirty minutes without a falter, without losing a beat, without losing focus on it while still completely lost in his jumbled head. There were millions of thoughts cluttering it and swimming through but there was a very prominent image that was in the centre of it all pasted at the front of Louis' mind.

On impulse, he had made a very, very thoughtless determination. His mind had been clogged and rumbled and worked up and furiously sore and his medicine wasn't working and he made a very rash decision.

Louis had made a very elaborate decision...

To kill Harry Styles.

It wasn't written in stone or anything but he had begun to iron out the details while laying in bed, playing with his fingers while thinking of hundreds of different scenarios where Louis got the chance to kill Harry Styles.

There were a lot of ways at the end of the day, he could get away with it. He's slick, he could do it.

Louis could choke him, poison him, push him off a cliff, stab him, blow him up. He wasn't even kidding when he said he would go through with it if he could just get his hands on him. Louis wasn't one to back down once he's set his mind to it, especially now that his emotions were skyrocketing and plummeting down heavily so quickly and so viciously at a time. Louis could do it. Louis will do it.

So the next day at school after Louis had spent all day skilfully burrowed without a whiff or appalling sight of Harry, he decided to voice his thoughts to Niall.

He was laying in bed much like he was yesterday but with his hands behind his head and his stare prevalent on the mattress on top of him as Niall was sitting on his desk writing something for his business class Louis' didn't know two shits about, feeling his tight cuffed jeans cling uncomfortably to him.

They weren't talking, instead stored in babbling silence with Niall's favourite genre of heavy metal set on the lowest volume playing from his boombox, the mulleted boy too busy writing that he didn't even acknowledge Louis' existence.

"I think I want to kill Harry Styles."

Niall just continued writing with his tongue poking out. "Sorry mate," he licked over his lips. "I didn't hear ya."

"I think I want to kill Harry Styles."

Niall perked up at that.

He twisted around in his chair. "Sorry?"

"I think I want to kill Harry Styles."

Niall whistled. "Yeah okay, that's what I thought I heard." Niall paused. "Can I ask why?"

Louis shrugged with his eyes acute on the yellow blemish at the bottom of the stained mattress, his blue eyes almost watery from how long he hadn't blinked.

"Just 'cause."

Niall remained silent for a second.

A beat longer.

Then turned back around on his chair and continued his essay as he spoke.

"Honestly, that seems like a valid enough reason to me to be quite honest with ya mate," he nodded. "I support it."