Frame of Hearts - l.s.

Chapter Eight

It's a lot harder for the next couple of years, and it wasn't just puberty.

He's spending the new year with Harry - probably the most blatantly prominent person Louis would be around. Louis' dad managed to score him some mini fireworks for them to use out in the clear paddock. Harry's sitting on a small cushion he brought him his place as Louis strikes the match against the box.

Harry groans as it blows out again. "Louis, it's a little windy."

He throws the burnt match on the ground, muttering under his breath fucking work you god damn thing. It's close to midnight and Louis wants these fireworks going before hand. He lights it again, putting the match under the wick quickly and letting the fuse burn. He runs to Harry's side, sitting down as the fuse fizzes to the bottom of the firework.

It stops. Louis sighs.

"What the fuck--"

Harry grabs his arm just as he made the move to stand up. "No! Louis! It all needs to react first, don't!"

"Let me just light it up again--"

"You'll get hit in the face, you moron!" Harry growls, pulling him down to his arse again. The firework blows, shooting up into the air and exploding to release fuchsia sparkles. Louis smiles at himself before looking at Harry. Harry's upset.

He starts scolding him. "You're an absolute idiot, you know that? You've been this close to killing yourself fifty too many times this year!"

"Everyone dies, Hazza."

"Yeah, well, not everyone dies when they're sixteen, Lou," Harry pouts. "Use a little more common sense, will you? Use that as your resolution!"

"Harry, I'm sixteen. I don't need a resolution."

"Everyone needs a resolution."

"No they don--"

"Last year, I made a pact that I'll try be a better friend."

"And have you?"

"Well, what do you think?" Harry asks. Louis shrugs.

"You have been moodier."

"What do you expect, I'm a teenager."

"I wasn't moody."

Harry scoffs. "Are you kidding? Moody is your middle name."

"It's actually William."

"Actually, it was Troy," Harry grins. Louis simpers fondly, touching Harry's knee and leaning forward to kiss his nose. Harry wrinkles his nose and blushes. "What was that for?"

"For being my best friend and knowing almost everything about me."

"Almost everything, hm?" Harry smirks. "What don't I know?"

"Everyone has their own secrets, H."

"Yeah, but you can share them with me," Harry says with a cheeky grin, resting his head over onto Louis' shoulder and breathing softly. "C'mon, Lou. It's New Years! You can tell me. Don't leave it all bottled up this year. Start fresh for 2010!"

He's kept it in since he was fourteen; two years now. Harry still doesn't have the darnest clue - which probably is expected since Harry is an oblivious idiot. Louis still hasn't told him he's gay - Louis knows for he is, for sure now. He still hasn't told him he has the teensiest of feelings for his best friend. He's never going to tell him. Louis rather keep what he's got than lose what he has.

"Wait for your birthday."

Harry gleams and presses his nose into Louis' skin. "How long until midnight?"