Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
It's the first week back at university, and Louis wants to quit. It's Tuesday, and he was blackout drunk yesterday, and now he is lying in Livias' backyard. It's way past 8 a.m. He blinks until his eyes adjust to the ruthless sun above him. He stretches his cracking limbs and gets up from the cold, wet grass. He looks at the pink house in front of him. The curtains are closed.
Louis grabs his phone from the ground and wipes it on his trousers until he can see the screen again. It was covered in dirt before. The battery percentage is at 5%. That translates to; he has to walk one hour since he certainly can't call an Uber.
He opens the camera. His eyes are swollen, and there's a fat bruise forming on his left cheekbone. His hair is a mess. Tangled and tousled. He quickly shuts his phone off and starts walking. The wet grass makes a slurping spund under his shoes. The wind blows his wet shirt to his back. Louis climbs over the fence and lands face first on the pavement.
He squeezes his eyes shut as the pain travels through his body. He considers falling asleep but then decides against it since his English literature professor lives around the block. He certainly does not want Mr. Sukcok to see him like this. He gets up once again and starts walking down the street. To his sides stretches the landscape. Trees are left and right, behind them fields. Big fields where you can't seem to see the end.
Louis walks and walks. The sun is up above him, burning down on his skin. He wonders briefly if he'll get sunburned if he would take his shirt off now. If he doesn't, no one gets to see how much pilates he did during summer. He did so much during summer, every single day. He even went western riding on a farm in Texas. He got to be high in Amsterdam for three days with his friends, playing monopoly. He adopted a cat and taught her how to fetch and bring the newspaper.
Now that he's back, he can't do anything fun. His days consist of going to Uni, working and studying. He works at the national art gallery as security or something like that. He doesn't really know what he's doing. He greets people and tells them to fuck off when they go too close to the paintings. It pays well.
He's lonely, that's all. He hates his colleagues, and he only has like two friends. He failed adulthood, and he's only 24. Niall, for example, his 23. He has a girlfriend and two dogs and paid off his student loans three months ago. He is wonderful. Louis wonders if he would ever get blackout drunk on a monday. Probably not.
Louis looks up from the grey pavement and sees the beginning of the huge university building. He sighs. He doesn't even have a pencil. Nevertheless, he goes inside and heads straight to the cafeteria. His day is already not going great. He certainly deserves a big cup of coffee. With sugar, of course. You have to be another level of miserable to drink coffee without sugar and milk.
The room is bright. There's nothing more to say. It reminds him of the houses he used to build in this one game he used to play when he was still in high school. There's tge floor, in mismatched wood. White walls. Wooden tables near the gigantic windows and well, the small open glass counter. There's much to choose from. Sandwiches, vegetarian sandwiches, vegan sandwiches, vegan and gluten-free sandwiches, and vegan gluten-free low calorie sandwiches with fresh salad without sauce.
"Martha!" He greets the old lady behind the counter. She overuses blush and bathes in Victoria's Secret perfume.
"What are you doing here? Don't you have class?" She asks, dismissing his extra nice greeting.
He pouts. No one appricates it when he's being nice for once.
"I was sick. The flu. Very bad case. Can I get a latte with extra foam, please?"
She mumbles something incoherently. "5,50." She says.
He puts her ten on the counter and grabs his coffee. She puts his coffee always in one of the ugly cups. He frowns. This one is particularly ugly. Bright pink. With little bows on it.
He leaves the cafeteria and wanders through the hallway. There should be a list with directions somewhere. How else can he know in which direction he's supposed to go? Not everyone is smart. They should really consider the people with a low IQ.
Louis searches his pockets for his vape. He quit smoking for three dats last week. To celebrate, he bought himself a fresh pack and one of these disgusting fruit sucker. His lungs will forgive him for sure, and if not, well, he doesn't intend to get past 60 anyways.
He reaches room 69. He's got a disgusting taste in his mouth. Like rotten soul, and he looks like a rat. He opens the door and sneaks inside. Professor Twist shoots him an annoyed glance but doesn't comment on his misbehavior. He looks through the room full of chairs and finally spots Niall. He takes the stairs up to the last row and falls in the seat beside his friend. Niall looks at him with the eyes of the most disappointed mother.
"Sorry." Louis says with a sweet smile. "Can I borrow a pencil?"
Niall writes angrily his last note and then pulls out the ugliest pencil. He kicks it towards Louis. Forgetting Louis' slow reflexes. The pencil hits the floor and makes half the people in the room turn around with the annoyed mother look.
Louis mumbles a 'sorry' and picks up his pencil. He then notices that he does, in fact, not own a piece of paper. He carefully slides the coffee towards Niall, as piece offering. He then pulls all his guardian angels together and turns to Niall. "Can I get a paper too?"
"Yes Louis, I do. Do you need anything else?"
"Actually -"
"Retorical question, you idiot."
Right. Of course. Louis starts taking notes. He writes down the personality types, and then he's supposed to draw a statistic, which leads him to paint a beautiful picture of Niall. Right when he's about to draw cat ears onto Niall, Professor Twist claps her hands together to get everyones attention.
"As you may know, the exchange students are coming back tomorrow afternoon and will need a place to stay for this semester. If you have a free bed or a free couch, please let me know as I will arrange everything." She looks at the students in front of her, "I'll see you all in two days, you may go."
Chairs are scratch over the wooden floor as everyone gets up to go. A group of people are at the front desk, talking to professor Twist.
Louis clasps Niall on the back, "Starbucks? On me?"
Niall glances over at him. "Yeah, yeah. Just one second."
Louis throws his head back with a groan. "What?"
"Oh, I'm offering a bed for one of the Italians."
Louis' mouth gapes open. "What? Why?"
"Well, I need company, and they need beds."
Louis gasps loudly, his hand flying to hus chest. "I'm your company!"
"Yes Lou, but I can't pay rent on my own, and on top, you never clean. I'm like your mother."
Louis scoffs. "What if I hate him?"
"I'm sure you won't."
"What's his name? Do you know that already?" Louis holds a bit of Nialls hoodie as they walk downstairs.
"His name is Harry."
-
Hello! So this is something I haven't written before. I've got no clue about the english university system so this is purely fiction.
