Chapter Five

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(A/N A new update! Yay! A bit more of a filler chapter than anything, but it's still nice, if I do say so myself. ^_^ Lots of happier stuff and a little bit of fluff and some plot movement if you squint.)

Louis likes taking pictures. People say that pictures are worth a thousand words, but he'd have to disagree. He believes pictures are worth a thousand stories, each one longer than the one before. If you take a picture of a broken tree branch, and then showed it to just five different people, they would think the tree branch broke for different reasons.

A child was swinging from it and it broke because they were too old to be climbing on a tree.

A cat was chasing a bird and the branch ended up breaking from all of the weight being pushed onto it, with the cat running around on it and the bird flapping about. The branch broke and the cat fell, leaving the bird to fly away.

Maybe lightening struck the tree, and the only thing broken was just that single branch.

Louis' favorite responses are the ones from people who think about things others don't. They think outside of the norm. Maybe the tree branch broke because of some forest fairies, who got angry at some trolls, and broke the branch so the trolls were crushed, no longer able to cause havoc in the quiet of nature.

He also doesn't have to describe his own pictures. They were able to describe themselves. And they were able to do it well. A lot better than Louis ever could. When a person creates their own description, they seem to like it more, too. Everything and anything Louis took a picture of was subjective to a million different opinions and stories and descriptions, and Louis honestly loved that something he created could do something like that to people.

But what Louis liked the most about pictures is he could take a picture of something ugly and make it beautiful.

Anyone can look at a pile of rubbish and think it to be disgusting. But how many people can find the beauty in something so disgusting to others? All you have to do is find the good qualities. It's like if you meet a person with a bad personality. If you look far enough, or deep enough, you can find the good qualities in anyone, or anything. It just takes patience and a good mindset. And Louis would like to say he has both.

Louis has taken over a thousand pictures, he's sure of that. He has taken a picture a day since he had gotten his first camera in the year 2005. Now, eight years later, he has shoe boxes in his closet full of different pictures he has taken over the years. Each and everyone had a different meaning to them, and it made Louis happy to think that.

He often would pull out the boxes when he felt down and would make up stories for each and every individual picture, even if it was just a picture of a blurry leaf back from when he was eleven years old.

His absolute favorite place to take pictures was by this lake, in the woods. Of course, he had to wake for awhile, and it was pretty far from his house (about two hours away by foot, it was a thing he did early in the morning) but it was definitely worth it when he got beautiful pictures of sunrises and ducklings swimming behind their mother. The best picture Louis had ever taken there was one of the trees during fall. They were falling from the tree when he snapped the picture, the quick-action camera taking a picture of them mid-fall. It was honestly the prettiest photograph he had ever seen, if he could have a moment to be conceited.

Today, at about four in the morning, Louis set out to catch the sunrise just at the right moment. He was hoping that by now, the trees were a bit more bare, since it is so close to Winter already. The cold breeze that made Louis pull his jumper closer to him proved his point. God, it was freezing.

By the time Louis had made it to the lake, the sun had already started to rise. Soft shades of pink and blue started to mix in with the black sky, only a few stars left in the sky. Louis looked at his wristwatch, blinking at the bright face of the small clock. Thirty minutes after six. Well.

Louis pulled out his camera, some model of Canon Rebel, and flicked off the flash, taking a couple of sample pictures before deciding flash was needed in the dark light of the woods. He could just fix the pictures later on in photo-shop, if he needed to. He situated his camera in front of his face, trying to line the lens perfectly with the sun that was now rising just partly above the lake. The first two pictures he took weren't too good, but the third one made his whole entire day beautiful.

When he had snapped that particular picture, a small, black and red bird had flew over the water, grabbing a fish from the deep lake. It was Louis' new favorite picture of his. After that, Louis took about ten more pictures, each one not owning up to the absolute beautiful shot Louis had taken before. When he had gotten his share, Louis packed up his camera, turning towards the path to start heading home. Before he could leave, though, he heard his name being called, along with the soft mutter of his name being repeated afterwards.

Harry.

"H-Harry-y," Louis said, a small blush coloring his cheeks. How had Harry found him? And why was he here? "Wh-why are you-ou her-re?" Louis asked, scratching at the back of his neck. Harry pulled a face, making Louis let out a surprised, breathless chuckle.

"What, don't want me here?" Harry asked, wiping at his forehead. Louis watched his movements, staring at Harry's sweaty face for a moment longer than he should have been.

"N-no, th-that's not what-t I me-me-meant," Louis said, shaking his head. "I'm j-just sh-shocked. I th-thought no one came-me h-here." Louis looked up the path Harry had just came down. There was honestly nothing but trees for two miles, and only one house. And an elderly couple lived there, and the only reason he knew that was because just a couple weeks before he had been caught in some terrible rain and needed to get to a phone. And he had to stay there for four hours because they didn't have a phone that Louis could use.

Harry flushed a little, chuckling nervously. "I-uh. I followed you? That sounds bad, let me rephrase that," Harry stammered out, still blushing. "I wanted to come over and I saw you pass by my house so I followed you." Louis blushed himself.

"O-okay-y."

"Sorry, I just really wanted to walk with you to school, so...I followed you," Harry had explained.

"N-no, it's ok-kay. D-don't-t be sorr-rry. Th-that's sw-sweet," Louis said, smiling at Harry, who smiled back.

"Well, good. So, what have you been doing out here? It's literally in the middle of nowhere," Harry asked, nudging his shoulder with Louis'.

"T-t-taking pic-pictures," Louis said, grabbing his camera case and bag for school. Harry instantly perked up at that.

"Oh, my sister, Gemma, takes some photography courses at Uni! Can I see some pictures?" Harry asked, already grabbing at Louis' camera bag. Louis playfully smacked Harry's hand, making the younger boy pout, a small glint of amusement in his eyes.

"S-s-sure, but get-t your-r grubb-bby hands-s away-y," Louis said, giggling embarrassingly when Harry pinched his sides. He blushed, falling silent as he got out his camera, showing the pictures to Harry.

"Wow, you're really good. Especially that third one," Harry said, smiling down at Louis, who blushed, smiling and nodding in agreement. "Hey, take a picture of us!" Louis sighed, like it was such a pity, but continued to smile, holding up the camera to take a quick snap of the two. He flicked of the flash, since the sun was brighter, now, and much higher in the sky. He pressed the capture button, smiling widely along with Harry. When the camera had finished taken the picture, he lowered the device, still smiling up at Harry. "Okay, awesome. We should get going to school, now," Harry said, slinging his bag over his shoulder. Louis nodded and grabbed his bag, and went to put away his camera. Before he did, though, he looked at the picture, smiling softly to himself.

"Come on, Louis!" Harry shouted over his shoulder, already a little bit up the path. Louis rolled his eyes and pushed the camera into its case.

Louis had spoken too soon.

That was his favorite picture.

Stutter || Larry StylinsonWhere stories live. Discover now