Fingers✅

4-6

Harry runs around the house, laughing and clutching onto his tiara that he had gotten from Disney World that summer. He glances behind him, squealing when seeing Louis running after him. He goes to turn the corner, but his socks make it slippery against the hardwood flooring. He bangs into the wall, falling onto the ground. The tiara falls from his hands, and his face contorts into a frown as he lets out a cry.

"No, no no no no!" Louis rambles, sliding onto his knees in front of the smaller boy, "don't cry, Harry, please," he begs, lifting the four year old up to sit on his bum. "You're fine, see? No blood, no boo boo's," he nods, "don't cry. Want some ice?" he asks, to which Harry pouts some more and shakes his head, crying some more. "Want me to kiss it better? I can kiss it better, I'm good at that," Louis tells him, as his experience with his little sister's injuries gave him the upper hand.

Harry doesn't say anything, he just sighs, his lips pouting as his shoulders shrug. So, Louis scoot's closer, leaning up to kiss the boys head. Then he hugs him as well, because how else are you supposed to make a small crying four year old feel better? He didn't even get hurt, but he fell so now he's crying.

Harry settles down, and smiles, hugging Louis back tighter, "Booboo, better," he says, "didn't need Mummy."

Louis grins as he pulls away quickly to look at his best friend, "That's because you've got me! And I'm the best friend you could ever get!" he gushes. His attention, though, is quickly taken away by the television that shows artists performing and the time on the bottom. It's two minutes to midnight, and there are confetti poppers waiting on the counter and pots and pans joining them.

"Come on! We need to be ready!" Louis exclaims, pulling Harry up with him. It's a stretch, but the six year old manages to grab a pot and pan for each of them with spoons for banging. Harry has the biggest grin on his face and his dimples are popping. He reaches for Louis' finger to hold onto, and the six year old grins at him as they run out in front of his house. The parents and other family members and friends are out there as well, but the two wait at the end of the driveway for all the adults and older kids to start counting down.

"Hey, Haz, I heard that at midnight you're supposed to kiss someone!" he gasps. Harry covers his face, giggling and smiling like it's a funny secret that he's not suppose to know. "Yeah!" Louis continues, "and my cousin told my other cousin said that she was gonna be kissing a boy!" he exclaims, giggling along.

"That's crazy," Harry beams, his little toddler talk making his z a th instead. But then the two hear people counting, and they both gasp, standing up. It gets down to fifteen, and then ten, then seven, and then Louis is kissing Harry's cheek at five, and Harry is gasping and sloppily kissing his friend's cheek back at two, and once one reaches they both scream, jumping and running around and banging their pots while firecrackers go off somewhere down the street.