Dare || L.S

26

A ray of sunlight mirrors in his eyes, it changes the sparkling circle around the deep-sea evergreen of his eyes. His eyelashes are tainted in water, lowly hanging. His hazelwood curls are falling in every direction. A few are electrified. His lips are luscious, reddish and wet.

His shirt buttons hang low, all open, exposing his chest. Rising amd falling. The grass beneath his hands. His fingers twirl a few strands. He shields his eyes. The sun leaves a glow on his skin. Freckles adorn his soft skin, his sharp jawline clemches from now to then.

His shoes are kicked to the side. His socks in them, bundled up. His jeans cling to his thighs, a dark brown belt around his waist. He breathes and his chest rises. The strong muscles flex softly. His rings are on but they aren't on the right fingers and his necklace is hanging the wromg way.

The birds chirp. The grass moves with the wind. A cold breeze washes through Louis' hair. He squints his eyes at the sun. His jacket hangs lously from his shoulders. He breathes the spring air in. It fills his lungs and his heart. It is beating rhythmically to the love he feels in the sun and the wind. Spring is approaching and it is comsuming him. He's filled by the early mornings, the warm nights and the wonderful days he spents down at the river with Harry.

Time does not exist anymore, he's so free of any form of stress. University isn't atarting for another 6 weeks and he's not even bond to go back. His days consist of endless sunrises at the river with fruits and flowers, long naps under sun and late sunsets with champagne on the way home. The dogs running up to them, happily. 

Cliff and Clown have grown and learned to go out with the girls and the sheepish cows.

Louis smiles looking at Harry. His heart is so full of genuine happiness that he can't comprehend how close he has gitten to Harry. He's spent weeks with him in his bed, in the shower and under sun. He's taught him how to ride a horse and run with him through the grass. The intimacy he feels overflows his senses. The mornings when he wakes up and feels at home beside Harry, the quiet breakfasts or the laughter.

He combs his fingers through Harry's curls. He witnesses the soft smile playing on Harry's lips. "I wish we could stay here." He mumbles. He lays down beside Harry, with his hands folded under his head.

"I know. Me too." Harry turns his head, his kind eyes land on Louis', "I need to take you to Italy some time."

Louis' skin warms, "I wish you would. We would eat icecream all the time." Louis chuckles.

"And I'd buy you lots of those bracelets you like."

Louis grins, "The blue ones?"

"Only those." Harry responds.

"I can't believe I hated you."

"Me neither." Harry's finger traces over Louis' skin. It prickles. Louis can't fathom how much he wants Harry's hands on him.

"I mean you were a little bitch."

"You too." Harry glances over. His pupils are blown, he's lresent but not right there. Louis allows it, he knows this is the best Harry can do. This might be the most he's ever seen of Harry.

"You wouldn't like the warmth." Harry adds. It's more of a grumble. His eyes are closed.

"I might." Louis shrugs.