"we are NOT using sunflowers, lou."
louis sighs dramatically and leans back on the couch, his legs crossed like in primary school. he glares at harry playfully.
"well, we're not doing roses either."
"why not? white roses are classy."
"white roses are pretentious. and super hetero. no heterosexuality at our wedding, h."
"when did we agree that?"
"just now."
"good luck getting Ni to come, then."
louis scoffs.
"and also, how can you possibly assign a sexuality to flowers, lou? that's ridiculous. we're doing roses."
"no! only straight people use roses. it's so tacky."
"louis-"
"we're doing sunflowers."
"if anything is tacky, it's sunflowers louis," he leans towards him a little and kisses him on the jaw, hoping to sway him, "roses will look beautiful."
louis pushes harry gently on the chest to make him back up, "not gonna be that easy, haz. and besides, if the reception is gonna be in that big white thing you want, everything is gonna look so washed out."
"washed out."
"washed out. and hetero."
harry bursts out laughing and leans back, looking down at the binder on the coffee table.
"we can't do sunflowers, lou, they're huge. they'll look ridiculous."
louis falls silent for a moment, trying to think. he thinks about his mom's wedding, trying to remember how that looked. he smiles softly and leans forward so he's shoulder to shoulder with his fiancée.
"remember when i took you to mum's wedding?"
harry's jaw tightens a bit, "i remember, lou. why?"
"her flowers. they were daisies, weren't they?"
"daisies?"
"wild ones. the small, pretty type. yellow."
harry smiles and looks at louis, "small and pretty, huh? sounds familiar."
"oh, shut up. can we do daisies?"
"of course we can do daisies. we'll need to pair it, though."
"you can choose. not roses though."
"whatever you say, weirdo."
he looks over the papers a little bit, trying to remember everything he learned about flowers and their individual meanings. all the studying he went through the make this wedding just right for louis.
"i know," he whispers, eyes landing on a small, white flower in the middle of the page.
"which one?"
harry smiles and eyes his louis again. yeah, this is the one.
"baby's breath."
louis smiles slightly but freezes. baby's breath. that's for....
"baby's breath?"
"yeah. if that's okay."
"i don't see why not, babe. baby's breath and daisies then. what will they mean together, though?"
"um..." harry tried to remember what different bouquets mean, "happiness and fertility. and a happy child, if we have one."
louis kisses harry suddenly and briskly, "of course we're having one, you knob. freddie needs a little sibling i think."
and harry could just cry.
