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Louis had grown so beyond fond for Harry that it terrified him. The boy was too kind and gentle and beautiful that he wanted to protect it. He wanted to protect Harry too, but he mostly wanted to protect what made him . . . him.

Louis was afraid a new Harry would arise after the news of his father's death. Especially when he was contacted by the police and was questioned about what he planned on doing with his dad's body. Harry simply said he wanted nothing to do with it, and hasn't been bothered since.

Little things like that puts Louis on edge. He knows Harry is strong enough to keep his head above the water, but there's this thought nipping at his mind that is reminding him that one little thing could send him into his panicked state. That night Harry saw his father again for the first time in years never left Louis; it stuck with him. Every time something remotely dramatic happened in Harry's life, that night flashed back into his mind. Louis never wanted to see Harry like that again and was set on preventing it.

So the next few days with Harry were spent taking extra care of him, and observing cautiously for any abnormalities in his behavior. So far nothing.

It was a pleasant surprise, really, to see Harry doing so well. He even held it together when he had to tell Gemma everything, which had Louis certain would end in tears. It didn't. And now, as he is back in Harry's apartment, he notices how far he's come. Harry had grown so much more confident in himself, even if he hasn't seen it. Louis sees it. He doesn't hide behind his friends or hurts as much, or is afraid to be himself; he'd ditched those outfits he used to wear that he thought made him "manly" and now wore what he wanted to, and that was a lot of patterns and bright colors. He was even picking up flower crowns again. Louis felt so proud.

He watched as Harry laughed with his friends, a drink in hand, and spoke out his odd humor without another thought. Louis smiled admirably and finally entered the living room, walking over to Harry and taking his seat in the chair beside the sofa.

Harry was sitting on the floor in front of Louis' seat, so he inched up and slid his arms around Harry's neck as Liam went on about some funny story that happened while he was in class.

Harry relaxed against Louis and tried to adjust the flowers sitting on top of his head; Louis smiled and pulled his hands back so that he could grab the flowers. Absentmindedly he put them on his own head so that he could run his fingers through his boyfriend's hair without the distraction. Harry let out a noise of protest, but turned around and actually aw'd when his eyes landed on what was on Louis' head.

"How cute!" He loudly said, turning around and pulling out his phone. Louis pressed his lips into a firm line. "Oh, Lou, c'mon. Smile. You look adorable."

Louis didn't smile. He didn't want pictures of himself wearing a crown made of flowers, especially when he knew Harry would post it everywhere. Instead he reached up and took it off. "I'm good," he dismissed.

Harry frowned. Louis tried to look away. Harry huffed, which had Louis looking back, only to see his frown-pout. He shook his head. Harry looked down in sadness. Louis huffed and swore underneath his breath and lifted the flowers back to his hair.

"I hate myself," he muttered.

"You'd make a pretty flower girl," Liam said.

Louis flipped him off.

"Hey, don't make fun of him!" Harry defensively said while continuously snapping pictures. "He looks great."

"Thanks," he unhappily muttered. "Can I take it off?"

Harry sighed and put his hand on Louis' knee, eyes wide and so beautifully green. "Can you just smile a little? Please?"

And how could Louis say no to that.

flower crowns // l.s.Where stories live. Discover now