Silent Laughter (Louis Tomlinson) [BOOK 3]

“Winn to the fred?”

My nose scrunches up as if I just smelled something utterly putrid. I shake my head in disapproval.

His lips scrunch up together while his eyes look to the sky for a moment before landing back down on me with a hopeful look.

“Fred?”

I slightly tilt my head to the side, waiting to see if he was just merely bluffing.

By the way his eyebrows are cocked and his bottom lip sticking slightly out in a sounds pretty good right? kind of way, I know that he’s actually serious.

‘You do know I’m a female right?’ I mouth. I begin sliding my longboard back and forth with my body, continuing to sit on the edge of it.

Louis does the same thing with his skateboard, sighing deeply.

“Oi! I’ve given you like a hundred suggestions so far and you haven’t agreed with one!” He complains, his hand going to his red Philadelphia snap back pulling it downward to keep it from falling.

He’s wearing a black Adidas t-shirt today.

My hands rested on my lap along with my napkins ‘I already told you what you can call me.’ My lips formed.

He rolls his weird eyes.

Damn, I’m not even sure what color his eyes are anymore to be honest. Yesterday, they were this bright blue that resembled the glow of a morpho butterfly’s wings. However, today they are this light gray that mirror the shade of the smoke that’s released from his lips after an intense blow from a cigarette.

I asked him if his eyes glow in the dark too since they are obviously not ordinary, but he just raised an eyebrow and laughed.

I’m taking that as a maybe.

“I’m not calling you Queen.”

I scoff before grabbing my pen from my pocket, using my knee as a temporary desk trying to write as neatly as I can on a napkin.

‘Why not? My last name is Queen, it’s fuckin(g) sick, and it’s better than Fred.’ I write, handing him the paper and seeing how his eyes gaze over my words.

He just shakes his head before looking back up at me, his finger pointing to the napkin.

“So you get Queen and I get Llama. How does that work?”

Now his arms are crossed. A small smile spread on my lips.

‘You look like a llama when you’re grumpy.’ I respond simply, seeing his eyes narrow.

“No I don’t.”

I feel a few chuckles leave my mouth.

‘Do too.’

“Do not.”

‘Do too.’

He lets out a breath.

“How do I look like a llama?”

He finally gives in, looking genuinely curious.

I tap the tip of my chin with my pen before grabbing another napkin.

“Wait. Do I literally have so many fucking similarities that you need to write it down?”

I don’t say anything but instead just shrug.

He places his hand on his forehead, eyes closing.

“No. No. I don’t want to even know.”

His eyes open again, looking a darker gray.

Damn it.

What color are they?!

‘Why not?’ I question, really wanting to see his reaction to the little list of reasons I made in
my head. It’s quite amusing and pretty much looks like this:

Why Louis is secretly part Llama:
A.) Louis has a lot of hair that is too long and soft (Don’t ask how I know) to be considered that of a human.
B.) He pretty much has the exact same amount of hair on his face when he doesn’t shave.
C.) He eats like one.
D.) I see a bit of his bottom teeth when he grinds them as he has a little tantrum with his therapist like a Llama when it makes noise.
E.) I’m pretty sure he gallops instead of runs…He looks like a majestic Llama going through a field of pretty flowers.

“I don’t want to look into a mirror everyday thinking I have ‘Llama like’ features. I’m a human, dammit.”

My teeth reveal themselves as I smile widely, Louis trying to remain stone faced. The stone breaks

“You fucking twat.” He jokes, his own laughter roaring alongside my own.

It’s like even our laughs have their own friendship. Whenever mine comes about, his just joins in and they kind of dance together in the air with a joyous reunion.

‘Hey! You were the one that wanted us to have nicknames!’ I defend, both of us smiling at each other like the fools we are.

“I thought you were just going to call me Lou or Tommo like the others, not friggin’ Llama.”
I smile even wider, shrugging.

“You’re seriously going to call me Llama?”

He stops moving himself, his head shaking in disapproval.

“Well then, I’m not calling you Queen. I’m going to come up with something that is even worse than Llama.”

‘Nothing can beat Llama.’ I mouth.

He just shushes me, his eyebrows now furrowed together in this deep, over exaggerated concentration.

I roll my eyes.

He’s not going to beat me.

I’m the Queen of all nicknames.

“Winn-”

He begins speaking his thoughts out loud, shaking his head at his own ideas before even giving them a chance.

He may have the talent of singing but I have the talent of giving nicknames.
Well at least to him.

I mean I just call Izzy, Iz and Cooper well…. Coop.

Whatever.

I continue staring at him, my small smile still present and my level of amusement well risen.

“Winnie the.. wait!”

His fingers snap in realization and he glows with excitement.

I just swallow, kind of nervous actually.

“I’m going to call you Pooh bear.”

My smile disappears and my feet stop themselves on the ground underneath us.

‘What.’

He wouldn’t.

He must be fucking joking I me-

“You know because of Winnie the Pooh and your name is Winnie an-”

‘I know what you mean but-’

I take a deep breath.

‘Oh dear God just don’t please.’

He smiles wide again, crossing his inked arms over his chest.

“And why in the hell not?”

I can tell that he’s feeling this sense of victory over me and it’s quite annoying yet amusing at the same time. It’s annoysing.

Yeah, I know that’s not a real word.

‘It sounds like a dog’s name.’

He raises an eyebrow, knowing exactly what I mean.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

I roll my eyes and he just shrugs this sarcastic ass shrug.

I don’t shrug back.

After realizing how he actually may have not understood me though, I decide to repeat my words again but slower and clearer.

He chuckles.

“No, I understand what you said but I don’t understand how it sounds like the name of a canine my dear Winifred.”

I also like it when you say my nameis what I want to respond, but knowing Louis I don’t think he would take my words seriously.

I quickly write my reply on a napkin, my words overlapping the quilted flower pattern.
My hand crumples it up into a ball before I aim and throw the serviette at his prepossessing face, his nose scrunching up in response.

“Are you trying to kill me?” He jokes as his arms uncross and his hands go to his lap to retrieve the fallen message.

I just nod before motioning him to open it with my hands.

He chuckles yet again.

“Okay. Okay. I’ll read your excuse for a response, Pooh bear.”

I groan at the end of his sentence and he smirks victoriously while his eyes scan over my words.

He hmm’s and mhmm’s a few times, the wind causing his feathery like hairs to touch the curved ends of his eyelashes as well as causing the fabric of his shirt to stick itself more into his side.

Louis has the kind of beauty every sculptor would desire to have as their own muse so they could mold this mediocre piece of rock into an image of a man that fools would believe to be a symbol of life and the grace it holds.

Sometimes I think of myself to be one of those fools.

“I’m not saying you look like a fat ass yellow bear with a red crop top, Winifred. Winnie the Pooh was one of my favorite movies when I was a kid so the character means a great deal of joy to me and you both do share the same name so….yeah. I don’t really know how else to explain it.”

However, he says things like that and I find him to be more of the fool of this friendship.

I just continue gaping at him, disinterest of the subject evident on my face.

“Fine. I’ll come up with something else.” He gives in, my small smile returning from it’s intermission.

“But, you can’t call me Llama.”

He emphasized the but, his free hand extended outwards for one of those deal shakes.
The wind just continues to blow and I turn my body around moderately, seeing how the very end of the sky from my view is beginning to gray.

“Winnie…”

I quickly look back with this huge smile on my face, his eyebrows scrunching together from uncertainty.

‘The sky.’ I mouth.

His eyes go directly behind me, and by the way his features calm and his lips curve up at both sides, I know that he’s thinking the same thing.

“I have the cigarettes, do yo-”

I take out his lighter he left at my place the other day and I wiggle it in my hold.

Our eyes gape at one another for a few seconds before we both shrug, I giggle, he chuckles, and we both quickly get ourselves up on our feet.

With my napkins stuffed in this disheveled way in the enclosed pocket of my shorts, the lighter held tight in my fist, and my pen in-between my top and bottom row of teeth, I just begin riding on my longboard. Louis and I race down the dirt road, both of us briefly looking at one-another a few times before we finally get to my family’s summer home.
The atmosphere would be soundless if it weren’t for the crickets and birds that were calling themselves aloud over the sound of me and Louis’ rushing footsteps through the soil.
The door was already unlocked since Louis and I are the only ones here and I didn’t bother sealing it.

We both practically jump off our boards, Louis grabbing his while I just leave mine outside.
The two of us rush through the entrance, Louis closing the door behind us and we just go to the huge window at the end of the room.

It’s already opened, the view blocked in the corner by some weeds that have been growing on the sill.

Louis told me to just cut them and I told him how it wouldn’t be fair since they didn’t choose to just live and grow there, that like everyone else they were just born there. It wasn’t our decision to choose their outcome.

He just sighed at that, nodding a little.

Now that I look at them closer, I see how beautiful they truly look. Their imperfect leaves that look to be spiked at the sides make them look even intimidating, but the small purple flowers that are hidden tell me more.

A dangling napkin falls out of my pocket and I finally take the pen from my mouth, it leaving a taste of metal and gold on my tongue.

Fancy pens don’t really have a delightful savor to them.

“Do you want to light it now since it’s beginning to sprinkle or do you want to wait?”

Louis stands on my right like routine, his fingertips now holding a cigarette that he pulled out from his pocket.

He fixes his hat and I shake my head.

‘Let’s wait.’

He nods, giving me a small smile before both of our heads turn back to the window.
Louis and I have been hanging out practically everyday for about three weeks now. Depending on our schedules, he’ll either wait for me after my therapy session or the other way around and we’ll just chill at either his place or mine here.

We never had an awkward conversation or anything. Actually before Zayn and Liam left around the end of the first week, we both hung out with them. All four of us would just watch some films or go to Louis’ football stadium. I kind of felt a bit uncomfortable at times around Zayn since he kept on offering to bring weed for me to try. They were all up for it, but I’m just not that hardcore.

I didn’t want to seem like a complete stiff, but I’m also not going to do something I don’t want to do.

But I did feel a bit bad since by the way Zayn’s skin right beneath his eyes darkened each day, I could tell he was stressed and really needed that relief.

I didn’t bother telling Louis about it since they are his friends not mine, but I still worry. Zayn’s a nice chap, him and Liam never failing to open the door for me or offer me their seat on the couch. Nice gentlemen to hang out with and I wouldn’t mind seeing them again.
But then again who wouldn’t mind seeing Liam Payne and Zayn Malik more than once?

Not that I hung out with them for that reason, but you know what I mean.

Liam was pretty hilarious, always making these spontaneous jokes out of nowhere that no one would really expect to come from him since he did indeed curse. I mean the guy’s in his twenties like it’s appropriate of course, but I just didn’t expect the goody goody of the band to sound like a complete sailor.

But that’s what makes Liam awesome.

When they both departed, Zayn going to visit his girlfriend at some state in the US she’s performing at and Liam going to see his mum, Louis and I bonded more.

We have not really separated at all now that I think about it. Garett talked to Simon and since Louis’ therapist says that he’s been doing better, Simon allowed him to rent a car for himself. I just leave with him from the ward and we just be together until five thirty (right before my mum comes home). No one in my family besides Sylvia knows of my afternoon activities even though my mum is beginning to be a little suspicious since she is still looking for her pen.

Whoops.

But other than that, everything has been good.

I do of course miss Iz and Coop, but I talked to my dad about it and he said to give it another week, that my mum is beginning to calm down about the whole situation and how he’s going to try talking her out of it for me.

“What film do you want to watch after?”

I glance at Louis and I just shrug, the rain beginning to pick up outside.

‘What do you want to watch?’ I ask back.

He shrugs too and we chuckle a little.

“Saw that you have Rubber. I don’t think theres a movie shittier than that one.”

I nod before grabbing a wrinkled napkin and trying to write on it with my pen.

‘Aw yes. Why wouldn’t I own the movie about a psychic tire that explodes people?’ I write, Louis sticking his bottom lip out as he just nods while reading it.

I kind of have this great obsession with horrible movies and so I just happen to own a collection of them and when I told Louis about it, he shrugged and I shrugged and we both watched a marathon that day for six hours. Now he has an obsession too.
Then again, who wouldn’t love a real crappy movie? They make you realize how un shitty your imagination is compared to these directors.

It’s truly magnificent.

“Bless your soul sweet, Winifred.”

I chuckle and nod, noticing how Louis just folds the napkin and places it in his pocket neatly.

He does that a lot for some reason.

‘Why do you do that?’

“Do what?”

‘That.’

I point to his pocket and his attention falls briefly on the denim compartment.

“What? Why I keep your napkins?”

His blue eyes look at my blue eyes again.

I feel my mouth fall faintly, my eyebrows knitting together.

‘You keep them?’

He shrugs, his face looking soft.

The sound of the now pouring rain begins to audibly surround us.

“Yeah. Why not?”

This time I turn my whole body completely towards him, not really sure what to do with my hands.

I just let them dangle.

‘Just throw them away.’

He turns his whole body now as well.

The darkness coming from the sky creates this shadow on his face. Half of it is darkened, making the blue of his eyes pop out in this intense depth.

“No. I like the things you write on them.”

I raise an eyebrow in confusion.

‘What?’

He steps closer to me, the shadow growing wider.

“You heard me. I don’t know why I just-”

He sighs.

“I don’t know. I just do. Not really a big deal.”

I don’t understand this boy. I literally wrote about how eggplants smell like feet to me on one of them and the kid kept it.

Oh. Fucking. Lord.

Never again.

‘Throw them away, Louis.’

“Nah. I’m good.”

One of my hands forms into a fist and I just take a deep breath from frustration. I don’t really know why, but I just don’t want him to keep them. Some of the things I’ve told him are personal and for some reason I feel as if he keeps them for his own personal joke. That he just reads off of them and thinks about how crazy I am and how narcissistic and plain foolish I must look when I speak my opinion.

I don’t want to be a joke to him.

I just want to be Winnie.

My head turns back to him at the sound of crumpled paper, and I notice how he just throws all the napkins he possesses in his pocket out the window without hesitation.

‘Louis-’

“I don’t want you to think I’m a dick, Winnie. No worries.”

I just continue looking at him, wishing the curtain of shadows would reveal more of him, but instead he just turns his body back to where it was before. His side is now facing me again.

“Pass me the lighter. It’s time.” He whispered the last part and I did as told.

The fire ignites from the silver tip and he walks himself closer to the window, me doing the same.

He stuffs the lighter in his pocket, placing the cigarette in his mouth.

The smoke whirls through the air, the tobacco scent greeting the both of us as well as it’s closest companion.

“The rain’s good today huh? Nice and wet.” He comments, the mood becoming lighter.

I laugh and he laughs too before handing me the cigarette.

‘Very.’ I mouth back, not really knowing if he’s paying attention or not.

We both smile when rain and smoke meet and I turn my body towards the window like before.

It smells of water and cigarette smoke and I even cough a little after taking a blow myself, passing him the white stick soon after.

He stands closer to me, our arms almost brushing each other.

It rains a lot here and Louis and I always just watch the friendship of elements together in front of the nearest window, but he’s usually the one that does all the smoking since I don’t want to make it a habit.

He doesn’t mind.

“Have you ever done this with anyone else, Winnie?”

We both glance at each other and I’m no longer smiling.

‘What do you mean?’

He passes me the cigarette and I place it in-between my lips.

“I mean have you ever showed someone what it’s like when rain and smoke meet? Have you ever laughed over terrible movies with someone for hours straight until you both were crying on the floor with sore stomachs? Have you ever taken someone to your favorite place in the world? Have you ever given someone some ridiculous ass nickname? Have-”

He grabs the stick from my fingers and I can’t stop looking at him and now he can’t stop looking at the rain.

I write on a napkin and hand it to him.

‘I once made Coop watch Titanic once and that was really it.’ It reads.

He nods to himself before crumpling the napkin up and aiming it towards the window.
It makes it and he doesn’t hand me the cig.

“Why was that it? What, was he that down about it that he didn’t want to watch another movie ever again?”

I don’t really know where he’s going with this whole conversation, but I just go along with it anyway since it seems to mean something to him.

I write on another napkin again.

‘He just didn’t like it. Thought it was stupid.’

Louis chuckles this deep chuckle that I feel even in my own throat and I just continue my mindless action.

Louis opens his mouth slightly, the smoke dragging itself across his bottom lip.

“What do you mean he didn’t like it? Everyone likes the Titanic. I mean it is the highest grossing movie isn’t it?”

I don’t understand why Louis wants to talk about Cooper and his movie critiques, but I just write yet again.

‘He thinks it was unrealistic how Leonardo DiCaprio died. He said that he could’ve fit on the door. He also thinks Kate Winslet’s hair was dyed.’

Louis actually laughs at that, his eyebrows cocking upwards in a ‘figures’ kind of way before throwing it out the window as well.

“Why does everyone think that? Niall’s the same way. It was obviously not about space, it was about weight. If he layed next to her then the door would’ve fucking sunk and they both would’ve died.”

I shrug.

‘He just met the girl anyway. I mean yeah she’s pretty and I understand that he likes her, but that is still no reason to sacrifice yourself.’

He reads then throws.

The garden is not going to really look nice with all those papers everywhere but whatever I guess.

Maybe the rain will disintegrate them or something like my pictures.

“I do agree with that part. I do think it was too soon. I mean I wouldn’t risk my life for some chic I just met. And I don’t think he just liked her, Winifred.”

He smiles quirkily at me and we’re both looking at one another again, the cigarette now resting in between his index and middle finger, his arms crossed.

‘Like. Love. Same thing. Love is really just liking someone a thousand times more than you would like a normal person. Nothing really special.’

He reads then throws.

“Nah. I actually disagree with you on that. I think there’s more to it. But I guess that’s why I’m not really into chick flicks to begin with. Everything is just too dramatic for my taste.”
He takes another blow before continuing.

“I mean whether it be Doctor Who or The Titanic or just any other thing, like why do these people have to make life about finding love, you know? I mean I have the love from my family and friends and just...why can’t that be enough? Why do I have to get married? Why do I have to be in a relationship? Society just makes us sound as if we are people but of the rabbit kind or some shit. That we all have to have the biggest coats so we can attract a mate and we just live the rest of our lives reproducing and reproducing and reproducing until we all just die out. It just fucking sucks. Like if you die not having someone, then you’re seen as a failure when shouldn’t it be the other way around?. We should be known as survivors and fighters, living to that last day with self fulfilling accomplishment damn it. I care. I want to help. And I try my best you know? That should just be enough.”

His attention is no longer on me once again.

I don’t think he’s really expecting an answer, his statement being rhetorical, but I just want to find the right thing to say. I want to so bad.

Then my mind smiles with me.

‘I find you to be a person of the human-kind, Louis Tomlinson. And a good one at that.’ My words read, my hand calmly placing itself out to him.

His thumb brushes over mine as he snatches the napkin, both of us gaping at the window again soon after.

He doesn't crumple it this time.

“I’m keeping this one, Winifred Queen. My apologies.”

Notes