"Open your eyes." I whispered after telling him to sit down.
From the side I watched him blink a few times. Harry had strikingly beautiful, long eyelashes.
He didn't say anything for a while, which somehow worried me. He stared at the tips of his shoes and searched for my hand with his fingers. He clutched it, searching for protection when he finally got hold of it.
I frowned.
"Hey, Haz. Look at me." I lifted his chin with two fingers and looked him straight in the eye. I waited for him to explain what was going on and didn't have to wait long.
"Fear of heights." He breathed barely understandable and pushed his chin down, so that I lost my grip off it and he could lower his gaze to his shoe tips again.
I nodded, knowing he was unable to see that.
"Alright Harry..." My arm was protectively grabbing around his waist right now. My hand soothingly stroking his side.
"I'm here." I whispered really close to his ear, watching goosebumps building on his forearm in reaction.
"I'm holding you. Feel that?" I asked, tightening my grip.
He moved his head not exactly nodding, but signalizing me, that he felt my presence.
"I'd really love you to give it a try darling. Promise me, there's absolutely no need to be afraid, okay?"
No reaction.
"C'mon." I encouraged him. The rain, which was still falling slightly, got a little stronger from minute to minute.
Carefully and slowly, he looked up, not to thefront where I actually wanted him to look at, but to me. His hair was hanging heavily wet in front of his eyes again.
With my index finger I stroked the strand behind his ear and ran my fingertip unnecessarily slow along the contour of his jaw, stopping on his chin. I pulled him a little closer to my body, finger still resting on the soft skin on his face.
I gave him my warmest smile as I put my thumb on his chin as well, grabbed it gently and turned his head forward, fixing him in that position. At first, he tried with all his might to keep his eyes closed, but curiosity prevailed.
"I can't offer you stars today with the rain. But do you see that?" I pointed my finger between some trees on a lake.
The full moon was reflected in the water, which was restless due to the falling drops.
Suddenly he didn't seem to care anymore that we were sitting on the roof. His fear was as if it had never been there.
"That is beautiful, Louis. So beautiful." He mumbled with a dreamy look at what was in front of him.
"I told you so."
He left that uncommented and gently put his head on my shoulder. He probably wanted to see how far he could go with me.
I let him stay that way, felt the slight coldness-caused shivering of his upper body, now pressed close to me.
Without thinking about it, I slipped off the sleeves of my hoodie and pulled it off over my head.
"Put this on."
I threw the clothing into his lap and refused him to say something against it. He looked at me confused. Somehow absent-minded, gaze lingering at my approximate visible abdominal muscles.
"You shouldn't be staring at something that isn't yours, little one."
Caught up, he looked me in the eyes, whispering a contrite apology.
I watched as he put on the hoodie, which was a bit too long for me, but fit him perfectly.
"Thanks."
"Louis?" Harry asked, view turned back to the lake.
"Hm?"
"What do all these Tattoos mean?" He grabbed my hand and pulled my arm over his thighs to get a better look at it.
There were many small motifs on my skin. Things that I painted and engraved myself, but also three professional tattoos.
"Which one exactly?"
He shrugged. "All of them."
"Most of them are really meaningless. Just the expression of my boredom." I casually told him matter-of-factly.
"Doesn't it hurt?"
"It's all about the pain. The ink is just a souvenir, sweet cakes."
I smiled smugly and lit a cigarette.
I wasn't a real smoker, but I often carried a pack of cigarettes with me because now and then I imagined that I needed it.
Harry stared at me in disbelief.
Offering, I held the pack out to him with one hand, with the other I wiped a few raindrops from my forehead.
"I'm Fifteen." He hissed disapprovingly.
I raised an eyebrow.
"As if that were a problem. First, no one would ever know, and second, obviously, no belief prevents you from doing it. I mean eventually you are gay."
Provocatively I blew the smoke in his face and grinned dirty.
"I just want to stay healthy and live a long life." He countered. "You should too Louis."
I shook my head and looked longingly at the fade-burning ash I'd tapped from my cig to the roof.
"Anyway. What about our cake?" I asked to avoid further questions.
He looked at the clock on his arm and jumped up.
"Totally forgot about that." He quickly climbed back into the house through my room window and I had trouble following him.
"Damnit, do I look like a fookin' athlete?" I asked totally out of breath, when I finally entered the kitchen.
"Shut up Louis, come here and take the tray for a minute."
He handed two crocheted potholders to me and smirked at the look of how lost I stood there, in the middle of the room, a steaming baking tray and two grandma-style-potholders in my hands.
"Smells good actually." I threw a critical gaze at the pastry which I had just placed on a coaster on the window sill.
"Really hope you didn't expect anything different from that... I'm a professional." There was that adorable pouty expression on his face again.
"Wanna try." I nagged.
"It's hot."
"Still wanna try."
"Who's the kid now?" The curly headed asked, arms crossed, grinning self-loving.
"Fuck you Haz... With kindness." I giggled at his tickling fingers on my still undressed waist, pulling me back a bit.
"Let's get into pyjamas first." He suggested.
I wasn't enthusiastic about his proposal, but it was a compromise.
"You should come and bake for me more often." I informed Harry when I was already eating the second piece of cake a little later.
He shyly ran his hand through his hair, didn't seem to be really able to deal with the praise.
"I'm glad you like it." The curly haired muttered, poking around in the cake with his fork.
I heard myself yawning throatily, put the plate on the edge of the sink and waited for Harry to do the same. Somehow happily smiling, he looked into my eyes, which I kept open with great difficulty.
"We should go to sleep, shouldn't we, Lou?"
The sound of his honey-warm voice enveloped me like a velvet cloth and the touch of his fingertips on my upper arm left a pleasant tingling sensation.
"But your tea..."
"S'alright. I'll survive it." He grinned.