The Beach House ~ A Larry Stylinson Fanfiction (Completed)

Prologue

Prologue

Present Day

Thursday, September 12, 2022.

7:03 a.m.

 When Harry was younger, he wished for a balloon. Simple and foolish as it might seem, he had only been five, so therefore, it was an understandable request. He remembered wanting that balloon so badly, he was even willing to trade his sister, Gemma for it (which, his family still teases him for to this day). He remembered, dragging her over to the small stand and trying to hand her over to the employee, holding his chubby, undersized hand out for a his needed exchange. The man looked at him curiously because honestly, it had been the oddest thing he'd seen all day. This small little boy, looking up at him with large, wide innocent eyes, was willing to trade his sister, his own flesh and blood, for a mere balloon. It was almost laughable, which in fact, the man did giggle a tad until he saw the confusion on the little boy's face. Harry was serious. He wanted that balloon and why the man was laughing at him was completely puzzling. It was a fairly simple request in his opinion. He was willing to exchange Gemma for that big green balloon. It was the smallest compared to the others, which was peculiar because, why wouldn't Harry want the biggest balloon that stood taller than all the rest? He didn't know why, he just knew he wanted that balloon in particular. Maybe it was because he thought that that small green balloon might be sad because no one wanted him just because he was small and that made Harry sad because no one should ever be alone. He wanted to make Mr.Balloon feel better. But Harry never got that balloon. So he cried the entire day, wailing and sobbing his entire way home. By the time they'd actually reached their small bungalow that they'd been staying at, his shirt was drenched with tears, and his nose was runny. So he cried some more until he finally fell asleep from the amount of emotional drain the "balloon incident" had done on him. The next morning everything was completely forgotten and Harry went back to his smiling, cheeky-self, not even showing a small ounce of rememberance for the small green balloon.

He didn't know why he was thinking about all of this now. Hell, it had just been a stupid balloon. Well, maybe it was not stupid because every time Harry did buy a balloon (which was hardly often), he always chose a green one. It was silly and foolish and maybe it was just the child in him, but he always remembered that balloon and that specific day. It was a part of him somehow, had a certain importance.

Standing on the weather-beaten house, watching the waves roll and stumble along the sand, Harry just couldn't get that green balloon out of his head. But the memory hadn't just come out of the blue. No, it had been on Harry's mind for weeks. The first time he had thought about it, he'd been in the grocer looking for a bag of Haribo, suddenly in the mood for something sweet. When he grabbed the candy and turned to walk away, his eyes wandered and settled up the small Centre, meant for composing flowers. Again, it was unconventional and completely surprising. But he found himself nearing closer towards the area, until he was up close fingering the small balloons made to be attached to any basket of flowers made. That was when the green balloon popped into his head, and since then, he hadn't been able to forget about it.

He shivered fiercely when the cold wind fluttered along his skin, forming small goose-bumps along his arms. But he didn't really mind. He was slowly adapting to the feeling, to the experience, loving the way his elbows dug into the cracked, wooden bar of the porch that he was leaning over. It was peaceful, feeling the wind whip his hair around and tint his cheeks pink. It never mattered how old he was because nothing ever changed. It's still the same..., the thought crossed in his mind.