CHAPTER 04
"Okay, boys take care of each other. Don't go out of the house, okay?" Harry's mum reminded the pair one last time as she let Louis and Harry into their house. This was the first time he was there and Louis loved it. The house wasn't as big as his, but it was close. The furniture inside the house was very wood-based and nice. Louis felt nice looking at those colours. It was as if the entire house had been built in a way that would make Harry's eyes stand out.
His green eyes against the muddled brown background of their house was everything Louis loved in the moment.
"Hey, Lou?" Harry asked a few minutes later as he momentarily stopped building his Lego house. Louis hummed in acknowledgement but didn't stop his hands. His tongue peeking out from the side of his mouth and his eyes narrowed just a touch in concentration. His mind was all on Harry and what he was saying, though. It was just that this was a competition for who built the fastest house and he didn't want to stop.
"Lou."
"Harry."
"Look at me."
"Can't. Sorry. Gotta beat you."
"Ugh." He heard a groan from Harry and in the next moment, what had previously been a grand house - which meant it was 5 different multi-coloured blocks stacked on top of one another - were strewn down on the ground.
"Hey!!" Louis glared at Harry, who simply smiled and got up, extending his hand towards Louis and beckoning him to get up. The elder boy did, but didn't accept Harry's helping hand in defiance of what he had just done. It was a masterpiece and he hadn't taken a minute to ruin it all. "I'm not talking to you anymore."
The blue-eyed boy muttered matter-of-factly as he followed Harry, who was still smiling. Soon, they got to the main door and Louis saw Curly putting on his shoes.
"Where are we going? Your mom told us not to get out."
"I won't tell if you won't." The green-eyed boy said with a sly wink and Louis was left gaping as the boy in front of him momentarily disappeared into the kitchen. Mostly because of how surprisingly adorable and nice Harry looked when he winked and his dimples popped, but also because the Harry he knew, the always-top-of-the-class, always-good-and-obedient Harry was suggesting they sneak out of the house even after his mother had specifically mentioned - more than once - not to do that.
"Are you serious?"
"I am. C'mon, it's worth it. I promise."
"Fine. Still not talking to you."
Harry, once again much to Louis' disappointment, didn't react at all to the latter's claim and honestly, it was annoying. How, and why exactly, did he not care about the two of them not talking and maybe, possibly not being friends anymore? Did Louis mean that little to Harry now?
As the two walked down the porch and onto the lawn in coordinated steps, Harry made quick work to hold Louis' hand and brought him a few houses away to a nice, dainty park at the end of the block, all the while holding his hand and making his heart beat just a tad bit faster.
Louis was very new to this, and didn't really understand why it was happening. So as Harry walked the two of them to the back of the park to a very beautiful greenhouse, he made it a point in his mind to ask his mum about it later that night.
"This is my favourite thing about the entire neighbourhood. I try to come here once or twice every week to see how much the plants have grown and to study the different kinds of flowers and their pretty colours."
Harry explained as the two of them settled down against one of the walls of the greenhouse, their legs crossed beneath them and their hands still holding on to the other's.
"And," the younger one continued. "I'm sorry for breaking down your house, but isn't this much better?"
"I still would've come with you if you hadn't broken the entire thing." Louis frowned, finally meeting the younger one's eyes, who only smiled sheepishly.
"Well, maybe I was a little bit threatened by the idea of you winning even though you clearly were. Just a tiny bit, though."
The blue-eyed boy huffed in reply and turned away, trying and wanting to stay angry with Harry but failing with each passing moment as the picture of Harry's smile and his pretty eyes and his dimples stuck in his mind.
"Will you stop being angry with me if I told you I brought us Cinnamon Swirl cookies?"
"You did?" Louis perked up, forgetting all about his so-called anger when the word 'cookies' fell to his ears, and Harry nodded with a little giggle, before bringing between them a packet full of cookies that Louis had failed to notice in lieu of the anger towards Harry and just about the boy in general.
"I know you love the swirly cookies, so I told mum to help me make those this weekend."
"You made the cookies for me?"
"Yeah."
"Umm, well, thank me." The older boy stuttered before coughing. "I mean, thank you, Cookie Boy."
"Of course, Lou. You're my best friend." Harry admitted honestly, making the other boy's heart beat erratically once again as he leaned back against the wall and Curly leaned against him, his head on the elder one's shoulder and his curls tickling his neck.
"You're my best friend as well."
"Yayy." Harry cheered quietly, making both of them laugh. The two opened up their cookies, starting to talk about how much time and technique Harry had put into making the swirls, aka, how much time and dough he had wasted trying to mimic his mother's actions, and Louis kept on looking down at Harry like he was the best thing in the room. The prettiest flower in the field, the most beautiful boy in any room.
The ten-year old did not exactly understand the cause behind these sudden, slightly awkward thoughts and feelings and reactions as of yet, but he let it be in the back of his mind with the simple conclusion that Harry was his best friend and that he ought to feel differently about his best friend since he was better than all of his other friends in life.
He was the best.
Harry was, simply put, the best.
With anything and everything.
The sun melted into the night sky as the two boys spent their time talking and laughing and eating cookies and it was only when Harry noticed the dark around them that he panicked and beckoned Louis to get up so they could rush back to their house.
The pair ran the entire way back to the house, huffing and puffing out heavy breaths as they quickly assembled their shoes on the rack and ran to the back of the house instead of inside it just as a car's beam started illuminating their surroundings.
Harry quickly switched on the lights from the switch panel and made Louis make his way up the tree in the back.
Under normal circumstances, the blue-eyed boy would've made his Cookie Boy take his time telling him all about it and how he had watched the tree grow along with him and how he, obviously, kept a tiny journal noting down all the changes he could notice week after week but right now, all he cared about was showing as if they had been up here for hours.
"Harry?" Soon came the voice of his best friend's mother from the house.
"Out here, mum."
"Hi, Mrs Styles."
"Hello, my darlings. Are you having a good time?"
"Yes, very much. Thanks a lot for letting me come and spend time with Harry."
"Of course, love. Now, I talked to your mom and she's coming to pick you up after around an hour, so I was thinking since the two of you have been so good today, you could treat yourselves to a pizza."
"That would be awesome, thanks mum!" Harry chimed and Louis chuckled at his friend's excitement before agreeing to him.
"It would, thanks Mrs Styles."
"Of course. Any preferences?"
"No pineapple."
Both the boys said at the same time, making all three of them giggle at the co-incidence. Harry kept smiling, looking into Louis' eyes while biting his lips.
"We really were meant to be best friends."
"I guess so." Louis nodded, receiving a kiss on his cheek from Harry as a result of it and if the older boy spent the rest of his night feeling a weird sort of heat on the exact spot he had been kissed by Harry and feeling weird things in his stomach and if the boy went home later that night after another hug to Harry and a conversation with his mother about how this feeling in his stomach and mind was completely fine and what exactly it meant, well, that was the one thing he wasn't going to tell his best friend all about.