Gods & Monsters

Chapter 15 (Part 3)

It's wonderfully warm inside as they flit about the isles. Louis makes a beeline for a wooden table cluttered with (what appears to be) the thickest scarves they have, piled on top of each other and looking delightfully knotted up with yarn and wool alike. He weighs a few in his hands, absently aware that Harry's somewhere behind him as he inspects them carefully—because they'll need to wrap around Harry's neck a few times, to ensure adequate protection from the wind. He thumbs the material, examines the quality...

To be quite honest, he's probably getting a little too involved in the whole ordeal.

But he just want Harry to be warm, okay? And he may hate shopping, despise it even (fuck, he's only got about three outfits, tops, and there's a reason for that), so he can't help but laugh a little to himself. But he doesn't think much more about it as he searches for the best goddamn scarf this shop has to offer. The best scarf for his Harry.

Finally, he turns around, two thick wool things in tow (one purple, one white—they didn't have peach, unfortunately) and he's just about to ask Harry which one he wants...

When he sees Harry looking at, what could be, the least practical choices on this planet.

"Harry," he says flatly, as Harry gently swipes his fingers over the beautiful, flower-patterned fabric. "In no way, shape, or form would those keep you warm."

But Harry continues to stare at them, a little bit of wistfulness in his eye as he admires the patters. The delicate flowers look lovely against his pale fingers.

And Louis already feels his resolve softening.

Sighing, he takes a step closer, quirks his head to look at Harry's profile. "Do you think they'd keep you warm enough?"

Harry merely shrugs. "Dunno. I think so... I just really like them. They're really pretty." But then his hand falls to his side and his mouth frowns, enough for Louis to spot immediately. "It's just dumb how, like, there are these arbitrary rules about what people wear. You know? It's dumb that, like, people would get weird about a guy wearing something labeled, by others, as 'girly', or whatever. I don't like that everything's compartmentalized, everything's put in a labeled box. I think people should just wear what they wanna wear and it's that simple." He frowns a bit deeper. "But I know that people think I'm weird. So. I dunno."

Louis stares, lowering the scarves in his hands as he watches him, quiet.

Fuck. Harry, just... He's...

He's so much. So much in such a quiet, lovely body.

"I agree," he says at last, voice wavering on 'proud'. Or something akin. "I completely agree, actually. Fuck the world. Fuck other peoples' opinions. Fuck society. I don't believe in adhering to rules, especially shit ones that make no sense, so fuck 'em."

With that, he promptly sets the scarves back on their table before marching over to Harry and leaning over him, gently balancing his weight upon his arm as he snatches up the red and black scarf with roses printed on it, gold embroidered on the edges. It really is nice. Pretty, even.

Harry blinks, surprised. "What are you doing?"

"Buying you this scarf," Louis says immediately, already making his way to the till. "Because it's going to look wonderful with your beautiful curls and gorgeous little smile and that lovely little face. And it's warmer than the whole lot of nothing you've got right now so it'll do the job just fine. And I'm buying it for you, young Sasspup, because anybody else would just ruin it. This was clearly meant for you and you alone." He pauses, smiles, tapping a finger to his beanie. "This hat you made me even told me so."