Accidently in love

Darkness and Fireworks

Louis POV

Today is a really dark day. Not because it doesn't seem to be getting light outside, but because I made the mistake of looking in the mirror.

I could shave my 3-day beard again, even if that won't change the overall situation. Apart from my overly voluptuous ass, I am unmistakably a man. And today is one of the days that I wish I were a woman, then I would at least have a chance of being seen by Harry the way I see him. Oh, it's just desperate, of course I don't want to be a woman. Breasts and instead of a penis... No, I'm actually okay with myself. But that doesn't change my longing to be more to Harry than a best friend.

I take a step closer to the mirror and examine my face. There's actually a loose eyelash on my cheek. I carefully wipe it with my index finger, look at the eyelash on my fingertip for a moment, close my eyes and blow it away. As always, I make a wish. I did that as a small child.

Unfortunately, my carpet in the children's room still couldn't fly and I didn't get an elephant or a dinosaur for my birthday. A ringing at the door pulls me out of my thoughts. Is that the parcel carrier? I had ordered some things online for Christmas presents for my siblings. I quickly rush to the door, not that the messenger will leave straight away, at worst with the package.

And suddenly there's Harry standing at my door with a bouquet of my favorite flowers - clearly not a sweaty delivery man. And he talks about us going on a date now. What? WHAT?

I must be dreaming or I have actually gone crazy. With shaking fingers I accept the flowers, a beautiful bouquet with light blue and a few white forget-me-nots. In the kitchen I put the flowers in the first glass of water I come across and walk back to the front door, where Harry is actually still standing. I quickly slip into my Vans and almost fall over my own feet.

1000 thoughts race through my head. Harry is only interested in women, since when has that changed? Why didn't I know he was picking me up for a fucking date? How do I even look? When did I last shower? Did I shave? Brushed my teeth? And can he hear how my heart is racing?

A date! With Harry. I'm convinced this is a dream, but I'm going to enjoy every second of it until I wake up. Just don't wake up now.

We walk side by side on the sidewalk towards the large lake in the small park. Harry babbles on as if it's the most normal thing in the world that we're going on a date and I can't stop smiling as he does so. I even managed to compliment him and tell him how great his hair looks today. I would love to run my fingers through his mane.

After getting some tea to go, we stroll along the lakeshore towards the small Christmas market on the southern shore of the lake. I notice that Harry is not holding the cup in both hands as usual, but only in his right hand. His left hand is free and keeps brushing against mine.

I gather all my hope and courage and carefully reach for his hand. As if it had never been different, we continue walking hand in hand, my small, cold hand in his big, warm one. The butterflies in my stomach are having the party of their lives, although I'm sure there must be dust as they flutter as long as these things have had to sit around.

The closer we get to the market, the stronger the smell of roasted almonds and mulled wine. We stop at the stand of Harry's favorite bakery and look at the display. This is the only place where you can get pastries that are fried in peanut fat and simply taste much better than any other store. Harry orders us a large bag with extra powdered sugar. I don't know if I'll be able to eat any of it. After all, my stomach is full of these colorful, fluttering insects.

After checking out some of the craft stalls, we sit on a vacant bench overlooking the lake. It started snowing. Harry places the pastries between us and carefully opens the bag. When he holds a large piece of sugary pastry in front of my mouth, I suck in a startled air through my nose and inhale some of the powdered sugar. A split second later, I sneeze so hard that I briefly fear that I have either turned inside out or am about to wake up from this wonderful dream.

We sit there for a while, Harry feeds me a piece of shortbread every now and then and I'm glad that I don't inhale a load of powdered sugar every time because of the shock. I carefully move closer to him, as it is a bit chilly to sit quite still on a bench in these temperatures. Finally, Harry crumples the bag into a ball, tosses it elegantly into the trash can, and pulls me closer to him. He lovingly puts his arm around me and strokes the hair that's sticking out of my hat at the back of my neck. "Are you cold?" I just nod and lean against him. "My bottom is freezing to the bench, but I still don't want to leave right now." I murmur into his thick scarf. Suddenly I hear a quiet giggle and Harry stands up and pulls me up with him. He opens his coat and pulls me back into his arms so that I can slide my clammy hands under his coat and enjoy the pleasant warmth that he radiates. I bury my head in his scarf and feel a tingling sensation spread through my body.

A bang breaks me out of my reverie. Colorful fireworks explode in the dark sky above the lake, a white rocket lights up the night sky and then bright points of light rain down like small comets. Immediately afterwards, another rocket appears, painting a red heart in the night sky when it explodes.

"Did you know that the Disney Parks are the largest buyers of black powder in the world? Because they make fireworks every day!" Harry asks me. I look up at him, ready to respond to this piece of useless knowledge with something sassy. However, when I see him, I completely forget what I wanted to say.

Individual snowflakes are caught in his dark curls, the tips of which peek out from under his hat, as well as in his long eyelashes. His eyes shimmer dark green while the fireworks in the sky are reflected in them. A gentle smile dances across his pink lips. His gaze falls on my lips and he comes a little closer to me.

Or did I just imagine it? My lips and fingers begin to tremble from excitement and cold. He tenderly strokes my cold cheek with his surprisingly warm fingers, his gaze becomes questioning. I don't know where I suddenly get the courage from, but somehow it feels like a now-or-never moment.

Harry seems to hesitate for a moment, so I step back a little and look at his face. His eyes are closed, a cloud of warm air leaves his lips and floats between us for a moment.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Phew.

I bridge the small distance and gently press my lips to his. In contrast to his hands, his lips are cold but incredibly soft. The kiss begins as soft as a feather, but Harry deepens it and a moment later I feel his tongue gently brushing against my lip. I float, the fireworks from the sky racing through my veins as I pull Harry closer and return his kiss just as passionately.

A kiss, did you expect that?

How does Harry feel about this?

And what happens next? Wishes ? Ideas? Fears?