green eyes, you are the one that i wanted to find

Louis just didn’t get why people wouldn’t stop teasing the boy with the flowers in his hair. He saw next to no problem with him at all, with the exception that he would be too excited all the damn time. How he survived the bullying, Louis wasn’t sure.

                He sat next to him in his English class, and boy, did they look like an odd pair. Louis with his red dyed hair, illegal tattoos and black band tanks that went with his converse. Harry with his outrageous sweaters, galaxy pants and glittering pink Sketchers that looked like they belonged to a fifth grader and the every-changing arrangement of flowers wreathed around his chocolate brown ringlets.

                Louis likes to believe that Harry actually enjoyed the time he spent with Louis more than any other time of the school day. That hour and a half spent in the boring English class reading depressing stories of sadness and fear among other things, with Harry practically grinning the entire time. They barely talked to one another, but sometimes if class was especially slow, Harry would settle his chin on one hand, and use the other to trace the designs that marked Louis’ skin. Louis enjoys these moments with Harry most, for he can feel the tingling of the younger lad’s gentle touch sending those unfamiliar shocks through his skin. It makes him feel a euphoria that he’d never get from getting inked or screaming obscenities into the microphone in his garage band.

 Louis was confused with his peers and almost everyone else in school. He saw Harry getting picked on daily, rather it being shoved into the brick walls of the hallway or getting called unsavory names such as ‘faggot’ or ‘queer’. Just because he wore the colorful petals on his head and was always cheerful. Maybe people weren’t supposed to be as happy as Harry Styles was, but Louis admired him for it. He never had told him that though.

So when he sees Harry practically weeping out in the courtyard one extremely cold winter’s day, he just has to see what’s going on.

                “Zayn, could you take my books to the drama room? Mrs. Spakly has to understand.” Louis says, handing his raven-haired friend his things.

                “You still after that flower-boy? Styles?” Zayn questions, but gets no answer as Louis speeds off, so he sighs and walks on toward the drama classroom.

                Louis feels like he’s taken fifty years to get to where Harry was, as obvious as a glitter fairy. He’s wearing a crown made of what Louis believes are witch hazel flowers, which make it look as if the boy has orange and yellow tentacles sprouting from his curls. But Louis can’t see his face, it’s covered by his large hands as he shudders and cries out into them.

                “Harry? Are you all right?” Louis asks, placing a hand on Harry’s back, not faltering as the boy flinches under his touch.

                “N-no.” Harry stutters, sliding a hand down to look at Louis with one eye as he realizes who’s next to him. “It’s too much, Louis. Too much.”

                “What happened? You’re always this little crazy ball of sunshine that never got put out by the waters…”Louis mumbles, trying to find words, but clearly lost.

                “Someone took my lucky animal charm. It got me through the day, Lou. It reminded me that I was beautiful, ‘cause I know I’m not. I’m just an ugly fag who wears these stupid crowns and wears shit every day.”

                Harry sniffles as he roughly grabs his flower crown and takes it off his head, tossing it to the ground a few feet in front of him and Louis. He then curls into himself, legs shuffled up to his chest and face buried in-between his knees. Louis’ not quite sure how to react, he’s never seen Harry so upset before in his life, so everything is completely new to him.