flower crowns // l.s.

❁11❁

Harry's stomach fluttered at his smile. "Ye-yeah. Carnations are supposed to mean that. Like, people go to them for when their friends get sick because they're so pretty and bright and can really lighten a mood. 'Cause when people get sick it's kinda sad, 'specially me. I love going out and taking walks and doing my job and sometimes I wished someone would bring me carnations when I'm sick. I actually get sick quite frequently because my allergies are the worst. God, it's awful. I'm allergic to hamsters, isn't that strange? And cinnamon. I'm allergic to cinnamon and it makes my tongue and face swell up to where I can't breathe."

"Is that right?" He asked with a shake of his head, the smile growing on his face. Harry'd realized he rambled and immediately flushed, nodding. "Interesting. Now, where do you think I should put these?"

"In water," Harry instantly responded.

Louis snorted. "No, where. In the house."

"Oh, yeah," Harry muttered to himself, glancing down towards his hands. "Maybe beside a window?"

"Then my room," he heard Louis say.

Harry's head raised to look at him, but then he furrowed his brows when he didn't see him. Leaning over the counter to see Louis, he smiled, finding him hunched down below the sink with the cabinets open, so domestic and cute as he rummaged for a vase. A look came over his face then, one of confusion and frustration as he sat up and backed up against the edge of the sink. "What's wrong?" Harry asked, letting his chin rest in the palm of his hand.

"Haven't got a vase."

"Oh," he quietly said. Then, he sat up straighter and grinned. "Do you have a, like, big cup? Maybe a mason jar? That will work, then I'll just bring you one of my vases." 

Louis bit on his lower lip and narrowed his eyes a little, looking as if he was thinking, before he just turned and walked over to a cabinet. Harry tilted his head, unable to see what he grabbed when he did, but once he turned and made his way over to Harry, he just grinned and reached for the mason jar happily. "Is that good?" Louis questioned, spreading both palms over the counter between them.

Harry nods. "Yes, this is great! Where did you get one from?" He asks, standing with the jar in his hand to move over to the sink. (When Louis muttered that his Nan used to make jelly, Harry just giggled because it was too cute.) Filling it up with water about halfway, he then goes over to where the flowers are and takes them out of their—what Harry calls them—flower wrapping paper, and then just delicately places the flowers inside the jar. He arranges them a little, wanting them to look perfect, before he's picking them up and turning to Louis, who's staring at him with an expression Harry can't read. "Your room, you said?"

Louis nods once and flicks his head in the direction his room his in, motioning for Harry to follow him. He does, and he really feels happy. Because the flowers are gonna be in his room. Louis' room. Where he sleeps and spends his alone time. He's gonna see these when he goes to sleep and when he wakes up. Harry felt too happy.

When they reach his room, Louis just starts kicking shoes and pants out of the way as he leads Harry in further, pointing over to the window beside his bed. His room hadn't changed from the last time Harry was in it, and if anything, it was only messier. He ignored the mess and set the flowers down on the window, reaching out to twist open the blinds so that sunlight could come in more. He grinned, eyed the flowers once more, before turning to Louis again. His hands were in his sweatpants and he was still staring at Harry. He blushed, Louis' lip twitched in the smallest smile he'd ever seen, and then they were walking out.

"I should really clean up in there," he said after shutting the door behind them.

Harry only hummed, deciding not to comment on the messy room since he didn't want to offend him. Both of them moved over to the couch, and just as Harry sat on it, his cheeks heated up even more. He remembered the last time he was sitting here; he'd tugged his shirt over his head and Louis had called him kitten and Harry had called him bear. With his hands laced together, he peeked over at Louis (who was staring at him yet again), and then felt his face suddenly feel too hot. Louis' just smirking, and it's slight—but it's there, and Harry just knows he's thinking about it too.