petal [book 1] ❊ l.s.

three - unpredictable

"Your boy works here?" Niall shouted over the noise, surprise written all over his face.

"He's not 'my boy,'" Louis called back over his shoulder.

He was leading them through a relatively rough crowd gathered in the heart of downtown. It almost reminded Louis of the job fairs that they had attended in college, with temporary booths set up along the streets and sellers calling out advertisements from folding tables. He kept his head down, ignoring the borderline rude comments that vendors sent their way, and focused on searching for a particular curly-haired boy through the chaos.

It didn't take another minute for him to spot Harry. The curly-haired boy was sitting at his very own booth, his gaze focused intently on an older woman who sat on the other side of the table. He wasn't nearly as loud or as animated compared to many of the other vendors, but his smile was warm and inviting, and Louis imagined that Harry still got a good amount of business.

Whatever the word "business" actually meant for someone like him.

Before Louis could look away, he caught Harry's eye, their gazes locking together through the crowd. Harry's eyes lit up, and he gave the older boy a shy wave. He patted the older woman's hand again, giving her one more warm smile before she went on her way, leaving him alone at the table.

Niall nudged Louis's shoulder, snapping him out of his daze. "He's really cute," the Irish boy commented. "It's a shame he's fucking insane."

"Shove off."

Harry looked more than cute; he looked breathtaking. Louis tried to hold on to his confused and upset feelings about what happened that morning, but with Harry looking so happy and innocent, he really struggled. An army-green bandana pushed his curls back from his face, but even the makeshift headband couldn't tame the wild mess atop his head. His sweater was plain and simple, topped with a light jacket, and he looked completely comfortable and confident. Harry was clearly in his element here, and Louis found that very attractive.

As they approached the table, Louis shook his head in disbelief, trying to force his own thoughts out of his head. Christ, he needed to get a handle on himself.

"Hi, Louis," Harry greeted him cheerfully, his green eyes twinkling. He glanced at the other two boys, giving each of them a quick once over without even a hint of judgement on his face. "Are these your friends?"

"You could say that," Niall responded, grinning. "Although we don't like him all that much. Definitely not as much as you --"

Louis dug his elbow into Niall's side, cutting the Irish boy off mid-sentence. Thankfully, Harry seemed to remain pretty oblivious to the situation.

Liam, on the other hand, was inspecting the booth closely, his judgemental gaze flicking from the crystal ball on the center of the table to the generic handmade sign propped up on the edge ("Get a glimpse into your future! Just $10 per person"). He raised his eyebrows skeptically, unable to hide the distaste in his facial expression. "You're a fortune teller?"

"A psychic," Harry corrected politely.

Louis didn't miss the moment of hurt that flashed across his face.

The curly-haired boy regained his composure almost immediately, though, addressing the small group in a very professional manner. He looked straight at Louis as he asked, "Would you like a group reading? I can also do individual ones."

"Individual?" Niall replied, the one-word answer coming across as more of a befuddled question.

Harry clasped his hands together excitedly. "Wonderful. You can all stay here together for your individual sessions, but I won't focus so much on how your life paths coincide with each other and all that nonsense," he explained easily, waving his hands in the air adorably as he spoke.