As I walked into the health center, I smelt dried flowers and antiseptic-smells that shouldn't really have gone well together, but did. The staff seemed nice- the receptionist, Elton, who I just saw seemed nice, at least.

I explored the center (feeling a little guilty, time was ticking by), looking at the rooms on each level, starting every now and then when I heard a wail or a scream, and at 10 a.m., reaching room number 28- assigned to Harry Styles.

Quite frankly, I was a little worried. This was my first time meeting someone with special needs. What if messed it up? What if I said something wrong? I stood with one hand resting on the doorknob, waiting.

Oh, darn it all.

He turned the knob, and the door swung open. He walked in, looking for Mr. Styles.

In the corner of the room, there was someone sitting straight, and holding a Walkman and earphones in his hands. As Louis watched, he took off the earphones, and with slightly shivering hands, set them down on his lap.

"Mr. Styles?" He whispered. The man turned to him, and Louis sucked in his breath.

Shit.

He was gorgeous. He was definitely tall, way taller than Louis, with a mass of brown curls framing his face. He was fair, pink lipped, and certainly not what Louis was expecting.

And his eyes...as Louis got closer, he saw that his eyes were the prettiest shade of green, with flecks of gold, like trapped sunlight. But then he realised, as the eyes moved uncertainly, trying to locate his voice, that they were of no use to him. He was blind.

"Yes?" The boy asked. He was a boy, man didn't suit him, not just yet.

"I'm Louis Tomlinson. I'm here to talk to you."

"About what?" Asked Mr. Styles (Harry in his head, but never mind that), Louis smiled.

"About...well."

"...ah."

A moment of awkward silence later, Louis said apologetically, "I'm sorry...its just my first time talking to someone like you. I hope you understand."

Harry chuckled. "Well, I wish nothing but the best, for you too."

"What?"

Harry laughed. A nice sound.

"What do you want to talk about, Louis?"

Louis pointed to his Walkman; then realised he couldn't see him (shit, shit, shit), and cleared his throat.

"What were you listening to?"

"Simon and Garfunkel- Scarborough Fair."

"Ah, I know."

Silence.

"You don't know who the hell I'm talking about, do you?"

"I must confess that, yeah."

Harry laughed again, and Louis wouldn't have minded making a fool of himself again.

...

Louis was sitting on the bed with Harry, laughing at god knows what. His knock knock jokes were truly terrible; but Louis didn't have the heart to tell him that.

"And don't share these jokes," said Harry solemlnly, "they're limited edition!"

"I solemnly swear that i won't."

"Good," he said, "neither will I."

"But they're your jokes, Homer."

"Its a thought though...I'll keep our conversations secret. Something just for us to think about."

"All right."

"So, how did you end up with me?"

"Well, they believed I couldn't do it.. that I was too soft for it. I was determined to prove them wrong," said Louis nonchalantly.

"So you got the post," pondered Harry.

"Yes, I did," mused Louis. "I felt proud," he added.

A silence fell over their little twosome again, but a good, cozy sort of silence.

"Where do you feel stuff?"

"Meaning?"

"I mean," said Harry, "for me, happiness is here." He touched his throat.

Louis thought about it for a bit.

Louis  took Harry's hand gently and guided it to his ears. He smiled when he figured it out.

"Here's anger," Louis said, guiding him to his Adam's apple. He touched his eyes in response.

"Nervousness," he said, their hands resting on Louis' stomach. He touched his forehead.

"Sadness," Louis continued, his fingers clasping Harry's now. He took Louis' small hand and brushed it against his lips.

"Love," said Louis, their hands on his heart now.

Harry slowly touched his ears.

"Why ears?"

"Well," Harry smiled, "before you walked in I would have said my heart too."

"But now?" Louis prompted.

"Well...I have sensory overload."

"Ah."

"That's why I was having trouble listening to even the softest of stuff." Louis felt slightly guilty for not asking, even though it wasn't really his fault. The poor boy was too nice to say it.

"And since you came in...and started talking..."

"Hmmm?"

"Well, let's just say my ears haven't hurt once."

Yeet.
This probably wasn't any good, so I'm sorry, but this book really isn't going to be good until the ending. Please comment tho! Where do you feel stuff? It seemed like a nice thing to put in.