your heart is fragile, dear, and but a poke can dissolve it into dreams.
...
Harry can't pinpoint the exact moment that it started.
He would never be able to tell you the very second that he began to see Louis as something other than just Louis. When the boy's eyes started to look a bit more like diamonds, when he'd notice the smallest change of details, when every aspect of his life slowly started to come back to the small blue-eyed boy. He couldn't tell you when.
Because, you see, even though the five boys had always shared a love for each other, Louis and Harry had always been the closest, no matter what. Nothing could get in between the two of them. They were far more protective over each other than two friends should have been, and any onlookers would have thought the boys were together.
Even their mums had noticed their special bond. When Harry first brought Louis home, Anne had noticed the way the two of them looked at each other, and the way they curled up on the couch. She noticed the slight pout on Harry's lips and the whine that left his mouth whenever Louis got up, and the reassuring smile and squeeze to the shoulder that Louis would give back to let him know he wasn't leaving him forever.
Because Harry needed that. He needed that reminder that even if Louis didn't love him the way he loved Louis, he still wasn't leaving forever. Harry needed to know, every time, that Louis would come back to him no matter what.
So, no. Harry didn't know when it started.
But he knew it would never stop.
...
