Larry One Shots

Little Hearts

Source: me lol
Rating: PG13
Word Count: 2436
Summary: where it's Valentines Day, and Louis tries writing Harry a poem.

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The thing is, Harry's a writer. Not necessarily a story writer, but poems and songs and those kinds of writings. Poems are his specialty, Louis likes to think. Even if his little songs are spectacular, a lot of the poems are directed to him, so he has a soft spot for those.

Another thing is, Louis is not a writer. Definitely not a poet. So, when he goes to his desk one night with a little stack of lined paper and different colored pens, he has a little trouble writing a poem. For Harry, that is, since there's no other reason for him needing to. It's just that Valentine's Day is tomorrow, and despite the things he got and is going to set up, he wants to do something original. He kind of needs to, honestly, since his sister told him that he needs to do something original and special. Which made Louis apprehensive as to thinking that if he didn't do just that then his whole Valentine's idea would be taken in as stupid.

So, at nine he sits down and rubs his hands together, ready to start writing. And at close to eleven he's gone through eight papers, both front and back. Switched the color of his pen five times, and has now taken on the art of crumpling up the used papers and tossing them into the wastebasket a few feet away. He doesn't understand how Harry does it, but he assumes that it comes to him naturally.

Louis tried writing of how he'll stop loving him once the plastic flower dies, since they never do, but... it's a plastic flower, so he thought it sounded stupid. So, the only successful line he comes out with was about the sun and the moon, and how he'll stop loving him once they meet. Except they never will, and Harry knows that, so he thinks it'll work. Or maybe, he thinks, that his love is larger than the size of the great blue that reaches green. It's all cheesy, and Louis knows Harry is cheesy but he's not, and he doesn't like cheesy except for when Harry does it. So, he can't do cheesy. He's broken many rules before, but he doesn't break his own.

The only problem is that the one little thing he ended up with wasn't enough for a poem. Which meant that by the time eleven thirty struck, he had a measly acrostic poem that he didn't know what to do with.

Has my heart and bloody soul with those goddamn dimples.
Ace at making me feel amazing, not only in bed.
Ravishing in all ways.
Radiant smile that I'll never get tired of.
You'll never know how to do his favorite hair style because he only likes it when I do it ;)

Okay, so he laughs out loud at the finished product. Mainly because he remembers the last time he did an acrostic poem was when he was in sixth year, but also because to him the poem is quite shitty. So he gives up for the night, and rolls right into bed, leaving the mess of a desk to clean tomorrow. And when his head hit the pillow, and he dug his hand under the pillow under his head like how he does every night, finding a little felt heart made him grin and scrunch his nose up.

*    *    *    *

When Louis wakes up the next day, he's so glad that it's a Sunday, and that he has off the next day due to President's day. He's really glad he attends a school in the USA at the moment, and that Harry does as well or else they wouldn't of met.... thanks America.

But that's not the point. The point is, is that as soon as he get's up, he see's a little red heart stuck to his closet, something he hadn't noticed the night before. So he peels it off, and smirks, pursing his lips. Who other than Harry would place little hearts around his flat.

Louis' proven right when he opens the closet to get dressed an hour later. He's supposed to meet up with his boyfriend soon, but the text he gets right as he's entering his bedroom that says take your time tells him that the little devil planned something. The first giveaway is the felt heart taped to the dark red sweater that hangs from a hanger, and then a couple more on the various pairs of black jeans. Which tells Louis that Harry's picking his outfit out for him, since he knows that Louis always has to pick out his own jeans since some fit different than others.