Mute Larry Stylinson Harry!Mute

Saturday 16 (part two)

Saturday 16 (part two) 

Tulips. They were Louis’ favourite flower. In a conversation about everything and anything, Harry learned that Louis’ favourite flower was the tulip. He loved the way they came in such bright, vivacious colours: pinks, purples, oranges and yellows. He loved the way they were formed, not too dainty like a lily but not too strong like a chrysanthemum. They weren’t overexposed, not overrated like roses. They held a simple beauty in the way their petals hid the pollen in a cylinder of silky colour. They didn’t stand out too much; they weren’t everyone’s favourite; they were normally placed in the background to add a block of colour; but Louis thought that they were worth more than that. They weren’t to be placed to just fill in space, the different shades had to be mixed in with each other and create a loud but subtle bouquet of beauty.

So with that in mind, the whole spiel of Louis’ reasoning behind his favourite flower, Harry was going to get tulips. Not roses like his Mum suggested because, no, Harry was not cliché. He was just sentimental, and what was more sentimental –and if you’re daring, you could throw romantic in there– than buying your partner a bunch of their favourite flowers?

Of course, Harry wouldn’t deny that when he ordered the bouquet he was grateful for Louis’ choice of flower because hey, roses could be quite expensive and tulips were only second on the pricing list. But really, would Harry have bought a different bouquet if the tulips were the same price as that ostentatious bunch of roses? Exactly.

He was torn, though, when he scrolled through the range of colour combinations, as to which bouquet to go for. He could go subtle, maybe some light pinks, purples, whites, and a splash of darkened pinks. Or he could go bright with yellows, oranges, dark purples and reds. The bunch of just white and a rich pink looked too wedding-like for Harry; he didn’t want it to look like he was proposing to the boy. So overall, it had taken him a while to decide on the perfect bunch.

The florist’s shop –Katherine’s Florists– was just a small walk away from his house, and with the flowers due to be picked up at 5.30pm, Harry embraced the lovely Friday weather and decided to take the trip by foot. His mother knew the owner of the shop relatively well - well, as much as you can know someone from the odd coffee morning - so Harry wasn’t worried about having to awkwardly explain that he couldn’t speak. He didn’t mind taking trips out by himself, he liked the independence in fact, it was just a little tiresome having to pull out that card which stated his problem and put up with the sympathetic and pitying looks.

It wasn’t overly warm, but enough for Harry to walk through the streets in his three-quarter, turned up jeans and a thin white t-shirt. A light green beanie was crushed over his curls to hide the wild mess they had become along with the fact they didn’t exactly look in the most clean condition. His white converse weren’t startlingly bright on his feet, but they were clean at least and didn’t make him look too scruffy. Overall, Harry was quite pleased with his outfit. Louis would have been proud of his choices, he thought with a hidden grin.

He wasn’t paying much attention to his surroundings as he passed the row of shops, more lost in his thoughts and the music which played through his earphones. After all, Harry wasn’t going to pass up on listening to his music when he was wandering around on his own –his mother wasn’t a fan of him listening to it when he was with other people, wanting him to be more social and not look as closed off. Of course she didn’t mind sometimes; sometimes she knew it was necessary for Harry to seek silence and comfort behind the music because music was Harry’s comfort blanket. But she didn’t want that blanket to cover him up forever; he needed to be on show for the better.

Harry entered the shop, pulling out his ear phones and stuffing them in his pocket, the wall of perfume hitting him full on. The flowers in the shop were certainly fragrant, and Harry’s nose didn’t agree with that too much. He sneezed three times over, eyes screwing shut and nose crinkling up. Thankfully, Harry didn’t have a loud and honking type of sneeze, it was relatively quiet and confined, so Katherine wasn’t startled too much when his presence was made from said action.