just because he's different :: l.s.

Chapter 3

A/N

This is still an intro. Meh! But yeah, still an intro.

Btw, this is on my iPod so it won't be as good. But, yeah. Enjoy.

Lol. I'm so gross.

As always, love my non readers,.

Bai.

"Who was that young lad?" Louis' mum inquired from the kitchen sink, as the water supply ran over her hands and dishes.

Louis couldn't aid himself but grimace at the pleasant thought. "His name is Harry. He helped me today."

"Isn't that lovely?" His mum, Johannah, inverted toward Louis' position, wiping her hands with a wash cloth. She was smiling, that was until her eyes landed on the giant bruise grazing across Louis' eye. "Oh, dear, what happened?"

Johannah threw the cloth, rushing to her son's side, rubbing her fingertips along the eclipse. "Were those boys picking on you again?" she managed to whisper.

"It's nothing, mother. I'm fine. I told you, Harry helped me with it." Louis squeaked.

His mother smiled. "He seems like a very nice boy, Louis. Stay away from those kids, though, okay?"

Louis slowly nods, his mother's hand cupping the bottom of his chin. "I love you, mum."

Johannah smiles. "I love you, too, sweetheart. Dinner will be ready in fifteen minutes. Get ready for it, okay?"

Louis nods, once more, releasing from his mother's loose grip, and quickly making his petite self up his stairs, where he opened his bedroom door.

His room, full of pale colours. The pink bed, full of nested feather pillows, floral pillow cases neatly stuffed onto them and a big, peachy teddy bear on top of it all. A sheer sheet drapes across the top of the bed. His room seemed like a throne.

An antique record player on the far left side of the room, where he would quietly listen to the best hits of The Beatles. Hey Jude would be a faint whisper to Louis' delicate ears.

Louis softly removed the bouquet of flowers that sat atop of his feathered hair, which was lightly tossled every which way. But, it suited him, just like the fluorescent jeans and pastel sweater he was dressed into. The same things that matched his bedroom almost perfectly.

Louis rid his shoes from his small feet, by toeing the pair off and quickly, but finely, slipping them to the carpeted floor.

Although Louis wasn't very admired or adored, like he came out to be, his family, only his mother and him, were rich beyond belief. Louis Tomlinson was loved so much by his mother, and he'd get whatever he would ask for.

Though, Louis didn't really care for money all that much. He didn't really care at all. Just as long as he had a roof over his head and food in his stomach, he was completely fine.

That, and love. Louis really wanted someone, other than his mother, to love him. He didn't care who it was, or what they looked like, he just wanted anybody who would care enough.

Louis sat his small body on the middle of his bed. He gently removed his jumper from his tiny torso and neatly folded it on top of his duvet. Below it was a white v-neck that hung loose over his chest, in which he also removed, mimicking the actions of what he had done to his jumper.

His bare chest was vulnerable and you could see his rib cage, which popped out, being able to count them one by one.

It wasn't as if Louis starved himself, because he didn't. He ate, fairly, a lot. He just had a very high metabolism, causing him to become very skinny in a way that seemed unhealthy.

Louis looks like somebody who would do such a thing, but in reality, he has a big appetite. Bigger than you'd expect.

Louis slipped from his bed, unbuttoning his paints, taking them off, and folding them on top of the rest of his clothing. He then gently placed them in a small basket full of other dirtied clothes.

Only left in his boxers, Louis made his way to his walk in closet, pulling out a pair of grey sweats that fit him nicely, and another loose, white v neck.

Other than the shirt that drooped down, showing off his prominent collar bone, everything fit Louis just perfectly. His sweats, surprisingly, shaped out his skeletal legs as his shirt only showed everything off, making his skinniness an obvious sight to receive.

Louis slipped on a pair of fuzzy socks and led himself down the steps, back to the kitchen, where his mother was preparing dinner.

Johannah looked at her son in sweet harmony. "Just sit at the dining room table and dinner will be done soon."

Louis nodded, folding his hands in front of him and shuffling through the double kitchen doors and into the dining room, where he sat for dinner.

Stain glass windows covered the room. A big table and eight chairs were sat as Louis made himself at the first chair on the far side of the room.

This is how it was every night. Louis would come home, most likely with a bruise upon his innocent face, he would change into a pair of sweats and a loose shirt, then merry his way off to dinner with his beloved mother.

And Louis loved every bit of it.

A/N

YUP. I HAVE DECIDED!

This chapter sucks.

BUT WHAT EVS! I don't give a fuck!

Let me tell you bout my GPA 4 o straight As-I don't give a fuck

Let me tell you bout my résumé it's so cray, it's insane-I don't give a fuck

Oh my boyfriend he's so hot and the car that he bought me is-I don't give a fuck

Oh me ooh la la my blah blah blah

I DON'T GIVE A FUCK!

Sorry bout that. Anwhores,

As always, love my non readers!

BAIIIIIIIIIIII!!!!!