Dancing with Strangers // sequel to bag of bones // zianourry

dreams

"Look at it Louis!" Eleanor screeches.

Louis is sitting on his couch, at 8 in the morning on a Sunday, still in his scrubs from work, staring at a failed test that isn't even his.

"What am I looking at?" He asked.

"My failed calculus exam! Are you kidding?!"

Louis doesn't quite know what she wants him to do right now. He's not her professor, and he's not a time traveler. He can't exactly fix this gigantic 64 that's written on the front of Eleanor's test with a red Sharpie marker.

"What happened?" Is all Louis can think of to ask. Eleanor scoffs.

"This professor is a huge dick! He's pretentious because he's like some kind of math genius who happens to actually be very young. His lectures never make any sense!"

"Did he offer a study guide?"

"What?" Eleanor asks as she squints her eyes at Louis.

"Like- a sheet that has what you should focus on for the exam."

"Yeah, yeah. I know what a study guide is, I'm not an idiot. And so? Are you taking his side now or what?!"

"I'm not taking the professor's side, El." Louis sighs and stands up to kick off his Croc work clogs and start to strip out of his work scrubs. When he got home, he didn't even have a chance to change out of his work uniform because Eleanor was already waiting at his doorstep to his apartment flat. Eleanor trails behind him and watches as he puts on sweats and a white tee shirt over his exposed body. He hated when she did this. When she would watch him dress.

Louis never lived with anyone else, not that Eleanor even lives here, other than the boys. And one of his biggest pet peeves was if someone watched him dress and undress.

Is it irrational he still feels this way even though he is better?

He doesn't know.

"It sounds like you are." Eleanor mutters.

"Listen, I can't do anything to help unfortunately. What you can do is study harder for midterms and maybe go to your professor's student tutor sessions. Hell, you could even see if he'll give you extra credit." Louis tries to dismiss her.

"I can't afford to fail midterms."

"So, study. Now, do show yourself out. I need sleep."

Harry came to Louis in a dream during his nap.

As creepy as that sounds.

He was wearing a beautiful white robe and, unfortunately, he didn't look a day over 16. Sadly, Louis had no other way to picture Harry. This was the way he last saw him. Prepubescent and baby faced. Barely shorter. Although, there was something off about this Harry. He looks a little different? Louis curses his poor memory, it's been 6 years since he's seen Harry and he should have his image down to the very last freckle. But he doesn't.

He can see his dream in like a 3rd person point of view because he can view for sure, and he's seeing himself laying in a big array of sand. A big desert. And he's just laying there. That's when Harry walked up to him and nudges him with his shoe.

"Hey. Get up." Harry says and Louis almost instantly opens his eyes. Boy, was Harry glowing.

"Harry? Where am I?" Louis sits up and dusts the sand from his clothing.

"I think we're in your brain." Harry says truthfully and hands Louis a mysterious cup to drink from. Louis takes it and eyes it. It looks like milk.