flower crowns // l.s.

❁15❁

Harry wasn't scared. He wasn't. At least, that's what he's been trying to convince himself as he and Louis sat at the edge of the aquarium. Mark had let them climb up into the section where the workers feed the fish, and also get in with them, so they're just hanging around near the water and it isn't making Harry uncomfortable, no. What is, is just the fact that Louis seems like the type of guy to push someone into the water.

"Harry, you've gotta get your hand in the water," Louis said from his hunched over position, shoes off and feet in the water. Harry muttered something under his breath and crossed his arms. Louis, sensing his hesitance, straightened up and turned his head to look at Harry. "Scared of the fish, are you?"

Harry let his hands fall to his sides, now wanting to prove that he wasn't. "No way." With that, he slipped off his shoes and socks, rolled up what he could of his tight jeans, and made his way over to Louis, plopping down next to him and letting his feet fall into the water. But then he felt something grab his foot; it had him releasing a girlish squeal and pulling his foot out, crawling backwards, away from the water. "They'll eat my feet!"

Louis was cackling at that, wet hands grasping his shirt as he shook from laughter. "Oh―" His laughter came again; Harry huffed with a frown, practically pouting like a child. "You're so jumpy," he said, trying to wipe the tears that he'd formed from laughing so hard, but just ended up getting his face wetter from his soaked hands. "That was me hands, Harry." He stared, grinning, but then the smile faltered when he really looked at Harry. "C'mon, love, was a joke. That's all. Help me feed the fish now."

Harry was hesitant, but he slowly made his way over to Louis and sat back down next to him. Louis, with a faint smile on his lips, scooped up the dry fish food in his right hand and dumped it in the palm of Harry's. He shook his head, not really liking that it was a possibility that the fish could bite him. Then he'd get a disease. A disease that only fish have that can get transmitted into humans only by biting them. And then, just because Harry is the unluckiest person in the world, there wouldn't be a cure and he'd die. Or become a merman. He'd have to live in the sea for the rest of his life and try to speak the language the fish do, just to make friends, and try to make things out of seaweed and pebbles, maybe start a job out of it and get paid in sand dollars. Or he'd just get a really bad infection, that would be more likely than transforming into a merman. But that would be a great story, so Harry decided to keep that to himself in case being a florist didn't work out.

"Can't feed them if you're scared of getting your hand a little wet. Well. You can, but it's not as fun."

Harry laughed nervously and stared at his hand, pushing away his wild imagination and just going for it. He closed his hand around the dried shrimp and dipped his hand into the water, opening his hand. Fish swam around, reluctant to move over to his hand until he completely stilled his shaky hand. But then one fish found the courage to go for the food secured in his fingers, and then he wimped out, pulled his hand out of the water, and watched as the fish scurried off. "Oh, God," he whispered out, eyes wide. "That was too close."

Louis was laughing, head tipped back and eyes squeezed shut. Harry shoved his wet hand at him and tried to muster up his most frightening glare. "Harry―" He said between laughs. "That fish . . . " He opened his eyes and started to laugh again at the look he received from Harry. "Pinky . . . The size of my pinky, mate. The bloody fish was the size of my pinky and you were scared of it." Louis grinned and looked over Harry's sour features. "You're too cute for your own good, kitten. Too cute."

That made him flush, cheeks flooding with heat. But he kept eye contact with Louis and shyly smiled at the unexpected compliment, not noticing how close they were until now. Harry's hand was still against Louis' chest from when he'd shoved him earlier. Something within him suddenly shifted, a feeling he couldn't explain coursing in his veins. It's suddenly too hot when Louis grasps his soft fingers around Harry's wrist, smile soon fading from his lips. Everything is suddenly silent and it's just them in the room―no fish, no people on the floor watching the fish―just them. It's harder to breathe when it's just them like this, Harry realizes, but as Louis moves his head closer to his own, Harry concludes that it doesn't matter if he can't breathe around the guy he likes so much, and that if oxygen was what he had to give up to be this close to him, then it was completely and utterly worth it. He's not good at breathing most of the time anyway, so he could live with this. But then they're noses bumped and Harry didn't know what was going on, yet he didn't pull away. Harry decided to do something he knew he couldn't mess up on and just bump his nose against Louis' again, rubbing it twice before they rested their foreheads against one another's. The blue eyed boy suddenly stuck his chin out, which made their lips so close to touching. Harry didn't know if this was real life, so he didn't shut his eyes as he parted his lips and moved forward.