They say when the sun sets, sunflowers face each other. But what if there was no other sunflower to turn to? What if each sunflower had been plucked out, leaving one to its misery, lone and terrified, with no kind of its own, a cruel world in its wa...
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|| TRACK : A SILENT CAUSE // THE PAPER KITES ||
It was said that it was always darkest just before the dawn, but Harry never believed his dawn would ever break. He had his downs, and then it went to the grave, he stumbled, he fell, he got stuck, and he tried to rise again. He knew his lows and he knew his highs, his highs were with Louis in a park, on a picnic blanket with Cow in his arms. His high was hearing his pups' heartbeats each time he had a scan. His high was shopping with Zayn and watching the alpha buy everything in his sight. His high was lying in Louis' arms while a new bouquet of peonies rested in his vase.
He did not know if he'd ever feel that again, the high of sheer happiness. But he saw a glimpse of it in the morning when he woke up to the lingering tickles of pancakes and hashbrowns, along with something burning. And there was Louis' scent, Louis' scent that was only his and not stained by any stray omega's, Louis' scent that was twined with Harry's in his flat.
When he first walked out, back sore and eyes tired -- he was certain he looked rather poor -- he noticed a bouquet of peonies on the table, freshly wrapped in beige paper, droplets of water still on the delicate petals. His silly eyes watered at the sight, fooling itself into soaking in the fictitious illusion of the past. And there was Louis in his kitchen, a scattered trail of his disastrous attempt at cooking definitely unavoidable to Harry's sleep-kissed eyes.
"Mornin', baby," Louis whispered, turning around. His eyes were as bright as the morning sky, shining as they crinkled and his face broke into a melting grin. Then they were stuck on his bump. Louis walked closer to Harry as Harry's heart fluttered, pressing a kiss to Harry's cheek he asked, "may I?" Gesturing to his bump. Harry nodded, watching Louis sink to his knees and press two kisses on the skin that was peeking out of his too-small t-shirt.
"G'mornin'," Harry mumbled, combing his fingers through feathery Louis' hair. He sighed tiredly. He had waited for this for so long that his bones ached to seep in the moment, afraid it was going to fleet away. "You cooked," he smiled down at Louis, who only nuzzled into his bump, peppering it with more kisses.
"You have no clue how much I have wanted to do this; touch 'em, talk to me pups, kiss 'em good morning and night."
"We needed the time, Lou," Harry cupped his face when Louis stood up, his hands resting on Harry's wide hips, morning sun seeping through the curtains and wrapping around them. Harry could not look away from his eyes, the blue he craved for so long, the blue he feared, the blue he ached for. Louis was not real. "You and I both needed to realise what we were missin'. I am glad we did. Or Zayn made us realise."
"Not that bad, that lad. I should send him an apology basket someday for treating him the way I did."
"Orrrr," Harry stretched looping his arms around Louis' neck as his bump squished against Louis' tummy. "You can befriend him."
"He slept with you, Harry," Louis deadpanned, fighting back an eyeroll. "I know it was never romantic but you need to understand that I can't just forget everything overnight. If you were in my shoes, you'd probably snatch out any omega's hair if I slept with 'em." Harry growled lowly, fisting the hair on the back of Louis' head. Louis chuckled, "see."
