Hidden Gardens

Chapter 6

It was more than two months later when they were finally at the end of the list of people Harry was going to photograph. They were walking back to the pub after interviewing the last person on their list, the 26-year-old tattoo artist that had opened her shop in Tottenham less than a year ago but who had incredible stories to tell.

"You know what you should do?" Louis asked Harry as they conered the pub. "You should go beyond this photography project and write a book about these people or something."

"A book? I couldn't write a book," Harry replied, adjusting his sunglasses on his face. Louis hated them, hated anything that covered Harry's eyes, especially when they looked so brightly green in the sun.

"Why not? You're the one who's always telling me I can do anything I want."

"I say that because I know you have other talents."

"You have talents." Louis wiggled his brows and Harry giggled.

"That's true. I knit."

"Bullshit, you don't knit. I, on the hand, actually crochet." Louis said with a proud smile.

"Are you for real?"

"I spent a lot of time with my grandma when I was growing up."

"Will you make me a beanie?"

"Summer's right around the corner and you want a beanie? Doesn't all that hair make your head warm enough?" Louis asked and quickly ran his fingers through Harry's hair. The wind was going to town at it and he desperately needed a comb.

"I think I'm going to cut it. It's getting pretty long." Harry said, rolling the tips of his curls around his fingers.

"No!" Louis blurted out before he could stop himself. He saw the half smile that Harry tried to hide. "I mean, it's your hair. You can cut it if you want to. You can shave your head for all I care."

"I'll think about it for a little longer." Harry said and followed Louis inside the pub. Louis should try to do a better job of hiding how much he liked Harry's hair.

They were greeted by a cheerful Niall.

"Hi lads, how did it go with Angie?

"Perfect, she's very photogenic." Harry said and plopped down on a stool. It was still 11:15 and the pub was completely empty. It was slow for a Saturday.

"I think it's the purple hair," Niall said, "was thinking about trying that color meself."

"You should stick to blonde, mate." Louis said as he grabbed him and Harry a couple of water bottles.

"Why not let it grow to its natural color? You'd look great with darker hair, Nialler." Harry said as he ruffled Niall's hair.

"Harry is thinking about cutting his hair, you know," Louis informed him.

Niall looked at Harry incredulously.

"Don't do that. That would be cutting off half of Louis' wanking material. Chop off your legs and this boy will be dry as a desert."

The sound of Harry's laughter was so loud that it muffled Louis aggrevated hiss.

"What the fuck, Niall? Shut up!"

Harry was still laughing, arms on the counter and his face hiding in between them. When he looked up his face was red and there was an actual tear running down his face.

"It was a stupid joke, I don't wank thinking about you." Louis was as red as a pepper, and if looks could kill Niall would have been dead already.

"Sorry for laughing, it was the way Niall said it that--" and he burst into giggles again, Niall following him and Louis had had enough.