Mad World. (A Larry Stylinson/Peter Pan crossover)

(11) They don't know us.

{Vote for the Irish Leprechaun.}

“Please explain to me again why we’re doing this.” Harry said, finding no explanation to this task whatsoever. After Louis’ inspiring speech this morning, everyone had separated ways, each of them finding something useful to do with their time. Louis had taken Harry down to a nearby river, with a fishing rod. After over half an hour of struggling, Harry had begun to feel bored.

“Because,” Louis spoke, having exact opposite feelings to this task than Harry was having. “I’m teaching you how to survive out here whilst Amelia and Savannah teach Liam and Zayn how to hunt properly.”

“So, why are we doing this? I mean, if their hunting properly, why are we fishing?”  Harry asked, frustrated that he still wasn’t luring any fish to his rod.

“I wanted an excuse to be alone with you.” Louis replied, being the cause of the blush appearing on Harry’s face. “I realized that I want to know everything about you, why not start here? Right now,”

“Can we stop fishing then?” Harry asked with a frown. Though he found everything Louis was saying undeniably romantic, he sucked at fishing. Henry had once opted to take him fishing, so Harry spent that morning feigning an illness to get out of the task. To his delight, Henry hadn’t offered to take him since. Louis turned to Harry and giggled at the frown set on his face before taking the fishing rod from the boy and placing it on a nearby rock.

The river they were situated at was beautiful. It wasn’t the largest river in Neverland, but it was by far one of the most picturesque. The sunlight bounced off the water, causing light to dazzle to the motion of the water as it moved in rhythm with the slight breeze laced within the air. Plants, leaves and trees were given vivid shades of colours that added to the dazzling sight. It was one of Louis favourite places in Neverland, and it was those reasons that Harry could tell why. The place had an awe about it that sent a content emotion through Harry’s veins.

“Tell me something about you that no one else knows.” Louis said.

Harry thought for a while, and in that time both boys had sat on an inviting patch of grass. Harry picked a lot of the grass before replying. “I’m scared of Balloons... and I really don’t like feet.”

Louis raised an eyebrow. “I can understand Balloons, sort of... but, feet?”

Harry blushed. “It’s not like I’m scared of them! I like my own feet, they do the job and everything, but I really don’t like other people’s feet.”

“You special boy,” Louis replied. Harry shrugged and grinned, throwing grass at Louis for that last comment.

“Your turn,” He said, eager to know what was going on inside Louis’ head. When Louis showed signs of hesitating, Harry sighed before speaking once again. “It can’t be worse than feet.” Louis laughed.

“Ok... I’m really scared of Thunderstorms.” Harry refrained from awing at the boy. He wrapped Louis in his arms and let him rest his head on his chest, along with his back. Louis was now set to work on making a Daisy Chain. Harry had his hand in Louis’s brunette hair, tugging at the ends slightly and sorting out the messiness that had befallen it.

“You’re so cute.” He commented. Louis hummed slightly in thanks and snuggled into the warmth of his boyfriend.

“Who was your first girlfriend?” Louis asked, suddenly curious. Harry had spoken briefly about having girlfriend’s in the past.

“Katelyn Smith.” Harry answered. When Louis didn’t respond for a few seconds, he figured he would continue. “She was beautiful, every boy desired to be hers. She walked the halls of my school with style, she was respected... every girl wanted to be like her. One day she took a like in me. She asked me out, who was I to deny her? I didn’t have a good enough reason, other than the fact that I was slightly curious about my sexuality.  So I agreed, and we became exactly what she wanted: a ‘power couple’. Eventually, I ended it with her because I didn’t like acting that way, treating others like that. She got mad and accused me of being gay. I only just smiled at her and said: ‘you’ve hit the nail on the dot there, haven’t you princess?’” Louis couldn’t help it; he burst into laughter. Up until the last part of the story, he’d been biting his lip with envy and hatred towards the girl. Now, he felt empowered over her. Harry Styles wants him instead of her; instead of anyone. He grew smug at the thought.