petal [book 1] ❊ l.s.

seventeen - december

Harry hummed softly to himself as he rearranged his table, propping up his sign and putting out a new bag of candy canes. It was December, after all. A little bit of festivity never hurt anyone.

Although, to be fair, he was pretty sure that someone was singing a Christmas song in his head. It took a few long moments to push the off-key tune into the background.

He had only given a few readings during his shift, but his head ached. Even the smallest readings seemed to exhaust him these days. When he searched for information about someone's spirit for a reading, he always tried to stick to the surface; now, he couldn't keep himself from diving into the depths of their pasts, presents, and futures, diving headfirst into the sticky ocean of someone else's life.

Harry was still caught up in the reading he gave almost half an hour before, warding off voices of deceased family members who had crowded around to put in their two cents, when he froze. His mind went blank aside from one word.

Louis.

He glanced up, already smiling as he searched for the older boy through the sparse crowd. Louis appeared just a moment later, looking a bit sheepish as he approached the table.

"Hey. What are you doing here?"

Louis stuffed his hands in his pockets. He was still wearing his suit under his jacket. "Wanted to see you," he replied with a shrug -- like it was no big deal.

To Harry, it felt like a huge deal. He hadn't seen Louis for a few days, and as grateful as he was that the older boy was giving him space, he still craved their closeness. Closeness meant quiet.

He sounded like a flustered schoolboy, stuttering, "I didn't think . . . I didn't expect --"

"Caught you off guard?" Louis teased fondly. "That's a first."

Harry flushed. "It's really surprising when something surprises me."

"I'll work on my stealth skills, then. Keep you on your toes. How's business tonight?"

"Slow. Tiring," Harry replied simply. "How was work?"

"Good. I mean, it was stressful. I'm tripping over police reports and idiotic detectives on my way to every meeting, but considering the past few months, that's to be expected." Louis changed the subject easily. "Do you need anything? Water? A snack?"

Harry's smile returned. "You sound like a soccer mom."

The older boy huffed. "When we met, you told me that if we had been in high school together, I would've corrupted you. Do you remember that?"

"I remember."

"And now you want to call me a soccer mom? Very different character tropes, if I'm honest --"

"A bottle of water would be great," Harry cut him off, shaking his head in disbelief. Sometimes he forgot how unbelievably stubborn Louis was. He dug in his jar of earnings for the night, only about half full, for a five dollar bill. "Here."

Louis pushed his hand away. "What? No. Absolutely not."

"Louis. Take the money."

"I don't want your money. I'm going to buy you a bottle of water," he stated, almost offended, "with the hard-earned three dollars that I earned at my fancy business job today." He reached over the table to squeeze Harry's arm before he left. The soothing touch was apology enough. "I'll be right back."

"Okay."

He watched Louis disappear into the crowd, and not even a moment later, a customer approached the booth. Harry put on his best smile, greeting the broad-shouldered man with enthusiasm, even with the alarm bells sounding in the back of his mind.