Roseus | l.s

4 days left

from time to time, louis did feel empty, yes. but he rarely felt like he was drowning in his sadness and misery. although, that occasional feeling visited him today.

as much as louis practiced, and prayed, and tried his hardest, he still managed to give english boy the impression of a complete, utter jerk.

when he politely served louis, louis could not as much as make the slightest move nor sound, yet his mind was racing faster than ever before. he wanted to befriend the english florist, he wanted to hug him and hold his hand and drink pumpkin latte with him as rain poured like it did at the very moment.

but louis screwed up any chance, any possibility of the two boys creating any trace of a bond.

and there as he was crying his soul out and sobbing quietly to himself on a lonely bench, he didn't even notice that the english boy was approaching him from the back. and before louis could acknowledge the taller boy, he softly muttered "hey," because he didn't want to scare louis away. he pictured him as a fragile being and wanted to treat him like he was made out of the most sensitive glass.

louis' eyes widened as his blurry vision cleared, displaying the curly boy right in front of him with a vibrant red rose wrapped in a baby pink decorative wrapping paper — louis' favourite colour.

"you left this at my shop the other day," the english boy spoke so slowly, as if he was afraid louis wouldn't catch onto his words. meanwhile, to louis it was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. "here you go." he extended his arm to louis, holding the rose.

louis softly shook his head and pointed towards the boy, his smile growing bigger with every second.

"you don't want it?" the boy questioned, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. his eyes switched from louis' pointing finger to his eyes. "it's... for me?"

louis nodded and clapped his hands slightly together. "from louis, to you."