lolita // l.s.

prologue

the old man did not find it peculiar when he peered through his handwoven blinds and caught the sight of a meager boy prancing through his garden.

it was quite immense, filled to the brim with roses and lilies of all sorts. the old man was astonished when people sauntering by didn't pause to wander through the crimson petals. they at least inhaled the crisp scent of dewy daisies, fluttering their lashes whenever the aroma flooded their nostrils.

however, this curious little boy seemed to ignore the wooden sign that hung from the tree reading "do not touch, we must preserve nature," and began to pluck wildflowers from their bushes. the old man's hooded cerulean eyes widened, glaring as the prepubescent child strung the plants together to form a crown.

"excuse me!" the old man, identifying with the name louis tomlinson, shouted with calloused hands cupped around his scowling mouth as he cracked open the luminous window. "read the sign!"

the curly-haired boy's petite head nearly snapped as it turned to face the old man, plush lips wedged open in shock. he immediately scrambled to his feet, toying with the frayed hem of his torn and dirtied dress. "i'm sorry sir, it was an accident. it won't happen again."

"accident?" the old man pondered loudly, cocking a bushy brow. he gulped down a mouthful of cruel words before responding. "i suppose so. have a nice day, little one."

a dimple forming in his soft, rosy cheek, the boy let out a quiet giggle. "my name isn't little one, it's harry! i'll see you around, sir!"

and with that, the little minx scurried off to his home.