Angel of Little Deaths
  • Reads 68
  • Votes 0
  • Parts 1
  • Time 4h 23m
  • Reads 68
  • Votes 0
  • Parts 1
  • Time 4h 23m
Complete, First published Jan 02, 2024
Mature
It's morning light when he looks back at Louis, bright and unfiltered, like a halo. He will never forget this image; he will chase to find it again, in this same way. So perfect in time; if he had a camera he'd capture it. How the thin knit of the sweater falls over the dip of Harry's collarbone, his lovely neck bared for Louis' lips when they come close again. His lips stretched wide and pink in a closed smile, until they break free to reveal his bunny teeth. How his legs cross almost childishly, bare ankles crossed, the creamy expanse of his thighs pale. His hair, messy and disheveled, before an array of light. His new love: Harry. His new muse; his new everything.

 

or

 

Louis is a lonely artist in Florence, Harry is a runaway Parisian student. 1970s au.

I don not own this story all credits goes to @superglass on ao3
All Rights Reserved
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11 parts Complete

Yellow. Harry called him yellow. Of all things? Yellow? OR Written for the HLSummerFest2020 Based on a prompt. Louis was a mess. A stuttery mess of weak knees and grass stains on his fresh linen clothes, his cheeks blooming a natural pink that matched his sunburnt nose. Upon his return from University, his family abandon the bustling city of London to bask in the comfort of their summer villa. With such a property came maintenance, Louis' father hired a strapping young fellow with tanned skin littered with ink and a charming smile aided by dimples in both his cheeks. Between reading, baking and painting, Louis stares at Harry, he can't help it. They grow close under the sun of Greece in 1989. larryent July 2020 Do not repost/steal my work.