THE SONG OF JULIET ROSE AND LOVEBIRDS (l.s)

chapter 5

Apologies to all 2 of you besties who read this fic that i was ia, but work and traveling were in the way of me writing. Another apologies, I really cannot write in past tense for my life, so i'll be writing present tense from now on, and i'll edit previous chapters eventually too. Past tense is just so weird to write!! Anyways, thanks for reading this fic so far!! It's my little garden and escape from real life and whoever wants to give it time to read and share the joy of this plot with me is truly amazing and im thankful for you!! Enjoy the chapter xx

Over the past couple of days Louis didn't see Harry. At least not for more than a moment. They met either when one was in the kitchen and the other passing to the garden, or one was occupying the living room first and the other didn't realise and went elsewhere. One time, Louis also crossed paths with Harry when he was riding Juliet to their little meadow.

Harry was sitting by the lake on the ground, little wild flowers surrounding his self, while he was writing into his journal quietly. Louis quietly slowed Juliet down, just a tad bit, to look at Mister Americana properly. His curly hair cascaded down around his cheeks, finishing just by the sharp jaw. They beautifully shined in the summer English sun. His lids were casted down, to that mysterious journal that always appears where Harry does. Those huge hands worked gently, the left one holding used pages in place while the right one was more occupied - writing line by line. Harry would sometimes look away from the paper, up into the horizon, skimming the view for a few moments and then going back to his lines. Louis would never admit it, but he was mesmerised.

He shook his head and prompted Juliet to pass Harry and move forward. During that visit of the meadow, all he could think about was the journal. Naturally, Louis is a noisy person. He is easily intrigued by things and he wants to know. He would love to know what Harry has to write. Maybe it's just some kind of article about Lake District and if it's worth for an American to visit. Surely then Harry already wrote how the hosts of Airbnb's can be absolute twats. Good promotion for Louis, well done.

Today is another sunny day and Louis wonders how the fuck it's still so nice. It didn't rain for quite a while. It's early afternoon and he was spending his morning inside to clean up the house a little bit. He is just thankful Harry is not a clean freak that demands clean sheets every few days and disinfected kitchen after every cooking session. Lord knows Louis wouldn't make it past two weeks if that was the case.

Warm breeze hits his face when he steps outside onto the terrace, thinking he should maybe go to the pond and do some work there to make it a bit more prepared for the flowers that he still is about to order online. He looks around, couple of animals out and free, enjoying themselves around. And... Harry, too? In Louis' little veggie garden, squatted by his cherry tomatoes?

Louis frowns, but he does remember very well he gave Harry full consent to use his garden to his liking. It's been really awkward since that supermarket visit, and Louis knows it's kind of his fault. Maybe fully his fault, but that's not in him to admit fully.

He sighs. Okay. He should apologise. It's not his go to, he never apologises unless it's a very serious situation - which this is definitely not -, so he breathes in and breathes out and walks down the stairs aiming for the American boy.

Harry doesn't see him, since he is showing his back to Louis, so in that little span of the time Louis tries to think how to let him know he is here without startling the guy. But before he manages to let him know, he is already next to him and he only manages a shy, 'Hey.'

Harry startles anyway. That guy is just very self-reserved. Louis probably never met anyone like that. He also notices a little bowl on the ground half-full of cherry tomatoes.

'Hey,' Harry greets back, looking at Louis for a brief second, then down to acknowledge the bowl Louis is eyeing, and then looking back up with a little regret in his eyes, 'Sorry, I thought I could get some vegetables to make myself a salad. Sorry if I was not allowed-'