SUNDAY SNIPPET - THE GROUND BELOW IS ABOVE MY FEET
hi yes it’s your PT zoner here, the last to everything. Today did not go as planned yet somehow I still managed to crank out 2k on my big bang so far and hopefully a bit more before bed.
thank you, and I mean this with my whole heart, to every single person that’s tagged me not only this week but in every week past. I absolutely adore every one of you and the community of support that’s been created here.
Recently I was tagged by @lululawrence @hadestyles @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed @cyantific @harrystinyshorts @theisolatedlily @adidassquad @solvetheminourdreams ♡♡♡ This one’s a bit longer than I’d normally share, but I’m drowning in nouis feels and had to share the burden.
I tag @falsegoodnight @runaway-train-works @brickredtoe @scrunchyharry @laynefaire @mercurial-madhouse @fallinglikethis @allwaswell16 @soldouthaz @harryanthus @vintageumbroshirt @haztobegood and anyone else who would like to share something during the week or next weekend :) just for fun, no pressure if you haven’t got something on the go xx
-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-
“You alright mate?” Niall asks awkwardly, like he’s unsure he wants an answer that’ll cement this step into untraveled territory between them. Their friendship has never gone here.
There are walls keeping them neatly on the outside of each others minds that Louis’ never cared to notice before. He’s got a feeling they hadn’t always been there, but somewhere along the way and after years of Louis adamantly shutting him down, Niall stopped trying to break through. Even built a few of his own.
Louis doesn’t know if Niall had dreams of being more, doesn’t know why he never did anything with his degree, and he’s starting to realise the agonizing reality that he doesn’t really know the man in front of him.
“M’ getting there, s’just…” Louis’ body hums with frazzled nerve endings the rawness this act of blatant introspection has opened inside him. He messes with his fringe and struggles to look Niall in the eye, struggles to find the right words to puke up. Harry always has the right fucking words for these things, what the fuck would he say?
“Are you happy?” Is what tumbles from his mouth, stiff and clunky in his voice. But Louis’ only got his own voice to work with, hasn’t he.
Niall shoves hands into his jacket as he chews it over, his mirth drained. The edge of harsh white lights over the petrol pumps cast him as a high-contrast bruise on the night. When he meets Louis’ eyes head on they’re steady with a grave seriousness choking Louis with intensity. It feels like he’s being held at knifepoint.
“Kinda stupid asking shite like that, don’t you think?”
Niall blinks and the look is gone, the sharpness in him faded to his regular scuffed appearance as he ruffles his hair, rubs his nose, but it’s not until he turns his back to head off into the darkness of the strip that Louis can finally breathe again.
A few steps into his usual arrogant stride, just before the shadows swallow him whole, Niall calls over his shoulder. “Happy looks good on you, Lou. Some of us just get to be alive.”
