#louisim

Maybe it’s both, he bitterly thinks to himself. It would surely explain why he always subjects himself to any of these social events that he hates so much if Louis is guaranteed to be there.

Sighing, Aasim leans back in his chair. On the bright side, he does have the company of all the other antisocial people with him, though their reasonings for being here remain unknown to him.

“So. You just gonna spend the whole night staring at him again?”

Aasim turns to regard the person next to him, heat already rushing to his cheeks. Violet is looking at him, that too-familiar knowing look on her face. He resents the fact that she’d so easily figured out his predicament, though he supposes he really hasn’t been all that subtle with it.

He bristles, before directing right back, “Are you gonna spend the whole night staring at Clem?”

She snorts, giving him a mock salute with her middle finger. “Touche.”

At least they’re both in the same boat. The new girl, Clementine, has her own fair share of admirers, it seems.

Leaning forward with her elbows propped on her knees, Violet surveys the crowd. Louis and Clem have managed to find each other amidst the sea of dancing people, their laughing faces occasionally illuminated by the disco ball spinning above them.

“Wouldn’t it be hilariously tragic if they started dating each other?” she muses, though there’s a twinge of despair in her voice that can only barely be heard above the blaring music.

It’s not like Aasim hadn’t considered such a possibility before. It was no secret how friendly the two have become with one another.

“Mhm… With my luck, that sounds about right,” he grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest.

As if he’d ever have a chance, anyway.

The upbeat song soon comes to an end, fading into something of a much slower tempo. Louis and Clementine share a fond smile from their spot on the dance floor together as all the couples group together.

Great, he thinks. Now they get to potentially watch their worst nightmare come true.

Except, by some miracle in its own right, they simply part ways instead. As Aasim eventually loses sight of Louis in the crowd, he directs his gaze upwards. A lone balloon floats above him, wedged between the ceiling and the wall. He finds it odd how well he can relate to it.

“You know, I figure we’ve just doomed ourselves from the start,” he mumbles sourly, brows furrowed. “It’s our own damn fault that-”

“Hey.”

Aasim’s eyes snap forward so fast that he nearly makes himself dizzy. The sudden voice that cuts him off most certainly isn’t Violet’s.

He has to blink a few times to make sure he isn’t hallucinating. Yet the figure in front of him remains unchanging, and his heart skips a beat.

Louis stands right there before him. His hand is outstretched in Aasim’s direction.

As graceful as ever, all he can do is blurt, “What?”

Aasim watches with wide eyes as Louis showcases that signature, lopsided smirk. At him. He’s smirking at him.

“I, uh…” Louis trails off, looking unexpectedly shy in the next second. “I’ve been meaning to ask you this for… a while now… But… do you maybe - want to dance…?”

It’s a prank. A joke, a horrible, cruel scheme he’s been put up to. It has to be. Nothing else can explain why the guy he’s been pining for all this time is actually asking him to dance.

Suddenly, he doesn’t care. Whether it’s a trap he’s falling right into or not, there’s no way he could ever resist the way Louis’ fingers twitch as he offers him a different, more hopeful smile.

Aasim takes his hand.