Frame of Hearts - l.s.

Chapter Two

He's walking Chance down by the main paddock with the sheep. He throws the stick towards one of the fattest sheep, torturing it with the exercise it most desperately needs. His brown Kelpie fetches it dutifully, bringing it back to Louis' hand for the process to repeat.

He spends his time sitting about and drawing circles in the sand. He has always had a fascination with art; he's even asked his dad about painting on the side of the brick shed just to spice up the barren area a bit.

Louis didn't like his farm. He'd rather be closer to Stan, or Niall. He'd rather not catch a fifty minute to school bus every morning and catch it back with an even longer duration. He'd rather be closer to his friends, than closer to the outback. He hated it, honestly. And Louis didn't hate things that much.

He didn't seem to hate it as much now. He has found a tree house, and he likes it. He likes having his own space to chill down and watch the birds play. It's better to have a place he might end up calling home one day; that is if Louis becomes homeless or something.

The Harry kid though. Louis isn't sure how much he liked this boy. He is a stranger, as a matter of fact, and frankly, Louis didn't want to share their tree house. Louis wants his alone time to consist of him and him only. He doesn't know if Harry will return, honestly. Maybe Louis has scared him off, mildly. Louis hopes he has.

His father meets him down at the paddock, throwing the stick Louis has thrown for the past two hours. He doesn't want to go home to his mum, probably going to yell at him for playing in the mud pit where the sprinkler was leaking earlier - the mud-soaked into his jeans up to his shins. His dad ruffles his hair, asking Louis to come home for some dinner and bedtime story.

Chance follows them both, Louis feeling a little sick in his stomach from the lack of food and also with the tumbling worry of discipline coming his way.

*******

Louis visits the tree house the next day. He expects to be alone. He is wrong.

Harry is right in front of Louis seconds later with a small container in his hands. Louis opens the lid as asked, taking the first cookie seen on top. He chews, swallows and hums happily. This is good, Louis could get used to this type of slavery.

"I have tea," Harry grins at him. "It's in the basket."

Louis follows him to the basket, a thermos full of tea being pulled out and poured into a plastic cup. Louis drinks, burning his tongue as he cusses, in the holiest way, out loudly.

"Holy french fries!"

"Louis!" Harry calls with worry, taking the cup from his hand as Louis fans his mouth. Harry's eyes are large with fear as he starts to tear up. "I-I didn't mean to. Lou! I'm sorry--"

Louis looks at him with his mouth closed, half his tongue sticking out - the burnt bit. It's angry red, and so are Louis' eyes.

"Louis?" Harry says with a careful tone. Louis is still glaring at him with his tongue out. Harry smiles softly with his body leaning away, poking Louis' tongue with the end of his finger. "Your tongue is soft."

Louis snickers into his hand, blowing a raspberry with Harry copying. He reaches for the drink as Harry slaps his hand away.

"No!" He shouts. "It's still hot!"

"You just need to blow on it--"

"No!" Harry warns again, defensively standing in front of the tea with his arms crossed. "No."

"Harr--"

"No!"

Louis huffs, pouting his lip at Harry. "My tree house, my rules. Give me the tea!"