Five Steps Into Your Heart [Nouis]

.03

C H A P T E R  T H R E E
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"He smiled understandingly– much more than understandingly. It was one of those rare smiles with a quality of eternal reassurance in it, that you may come across four or five times in life. It faced—or seemed to face—the whole eternal world for an instant, and then concentrated on you with an irresistible prejudice in your favor. It understood you just as far as you wanted to be understood, believed in you as you would like to believe in yourself, and assured you that it had precisely the impression of you that, at your best, you hoped to convey."

Niall closes his eyes as Louis continues to read to him— not because he is bored and Louis's voice makes him drowsy, but because Louis's voice is so smooth and lovely and the blind boy just cannot resist letting his eyelids slip shut as he is swept away by the sound.

He does not know how long he has been sitting at the library listening to Louis read The Great Gatsby. Niall does not have a watch and, even if he did, it is not as if he would be able to read the numbers that time pieces display. A voice in the back of his head reminds him that he could always ask Louis for the time, but Niall secretly dreads the thought of interrupting him. It is just that Louis reads with such passion and brings the characters to life with his changes of tone, and Niall is mesmerized to the point where stopping him would feel like a crime. Louis's voice gives him this strange, comforting feeling that leaves Niall wanting more and more. It is quite unexplainable, but makes so much sense at the same time.

It is similar to the overbearing excitement a child receives when his mother reads a fairytale to him before bed, opening up a window of endless possibilities and imagination. It is a warm cup of tea with two sugars on a Sunday morning, being drained slowly as its holder watches the sun's rays greet the sky in the first, glorious moments of the day. It is a baby bird learning to fly for the first time, stumbling on its own— like Louis sometimes stumbles over his own words— but slowly improving as it realizes that it is doing what it was meant to do all along.

Louis's voice is all of these things to Niall, and he would sit in this same spot in the library for an eternity if it meant he could listen to the other boy speak for the rest of his life.

Louis eventually stops reading though, coughing a little and closing the book when his throat begins to feel scratchy. He studies Niall for a moment, watching how the boy gets this confused look on his face when he suddenly stops speaking. Louis, in return, gets the urge to open the book back up again so that he can continue reading to Niall, despite the soreness forming in his throat.

He does not though because it is almost five o'clock and he does not want Niall going home in the dark. Sketchy people roam the streets at night looking to take advantage of people like him, and Louis definitely does not want that for the blond.

"I think that's enough for today, love," Louis says, placing his hand over Niall's cold one that is resting on the table in front of them.

Niall feels butterflies at the way that the pet name caresses his ears so lovingly. Louis uses such a soft tone with him, and a touch that is equally as gentle.

"Yeah, okay," Niall agrees. "I should probably get home. Do you know what time it is?"

"Yeah, hold on," Louis says, reaching his hand into his pocket and digging out his phone.

He unlocks the screen, smiling when he sees that it is only four thirty. It usually does not get dark outside until six, so Niall should have no problem getting home.

"It's four thirty," Louis informs the blind boy, squeezing his hand a little.

Niall nods and smiles, standing up. His hand falls out of Louis's grasp and the other boy frowns, standing up as well.