flower crowns // l.s.

❁31❁

The next few days were spent with Harry not leaving Louis' side. He didn't want to be by himself. Although what had happened was rarely talked about (Liam and Niall knew, of course), it felt like he couldn't escape it. Eyes were constantly on him, and every time he turned his back, he felt like they were talking about him and his father.

They didn't know a new feeling had burst within Harry—he felt like he had to hide it, because he should be afraid and scared right now. Instead he feels unbelievably strong. Not exactly physically, but emotionally. Anyone would agree that Harry wasn't an emotionally stable person. He'd been through a lot with his mother's death and sickening recurrences involving Cal. He even sympathized himself at points.

But being able to stand up against someone that had terrified him all his life had given him this type of freedom he never knew he had locked away. Cal still frightened him beyond belief, but now he doesn't feel helpless. He doesn't feel like he has to hide.

And that is something he never thought he could ever feel.

Even though he wants to stay by Louis' side at all hours of the day, he doesn't feel like that makes him any less strong than he was the night he actually fought against his biggest fear. He just didn't want to be left alone. Harry went with Louis to work (he didn't want to go back to his flower stand just yet) and talked to Zayn and Madeline when Louis would shoo him away for being too big of a distraction while he did his work.

In between people, Louis would treat Harry just as he did when they were alone—and that means he'd hold him (put his arms around Harry's waist), kiss him, whisper adorable words in his ear, and just look after him. Harry liked being looked after. Of course when Liam did it it was considered annoying, but not with Louis. It was different with him. Everything was different with him.

Harry was in the chair Louis tattooed him in many months ago, bored out of his mind. It was around three in the afternoon and Louis didn't have anyone until 4:30, so they had plenty of free time. Louis was only just now eating his lunch food.

Harry let his legs dangle off the side of his chair as he let his head fall back, watching Louis eat in his chair while scrolling through his phone.

"Heey," he mumbled, thumbs tapping against the padded armrests.

Louis glanced at Harry, then looked back to his phone while stuffing his mouth with a turkey sandwich. "Hi."

Harry crinkled his nose and sighed loudly. "I'm bored."

Louis shrugged. "You didn't have to come today, you know."

Harry looked up to the ceiling and pouted. "But I like being with you."

"Mm," Louis hummed, followed by a sound of a chair rolling across the floor. Harry looked up when he felt something being placed on his stomach; Louis had put his sandwich on his stomach. "What if I got all my crumbs on your pretty, blue shirt?"

"I'd dust them off," he simply said, not finding it unusual that Louis decided to use his stomach as a table.

"Didn't even notice I complimented your shirt? How bored are you?" He said, traces of amusement laced in his voice.

Harry suddenly flushed. "I—I noticed . . . Thank you," he rushed out.

"There's my Harry! Getting all flustered with compliments. Wondered where he went."

"He just couldn't speak buried under the mountain of bread crumbs."

"He can dust them off with his giant hands."

Harry raised his hands and squinted, examining them. "Do you think I could fit my giant hands fully around someone's neck?" When Louis didn't respond, he looked over to find him staring with a brow raised. "What?" he quietly mumbled, placing his hands down.