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Chapter Text

The feeling has always been the same, every day, for the last few years. The hit of loneliness, abandonment, and just utter disappointment in his self. It was a rare day if the poor little boy that lost his parents actually felt happy. He was stuck in an orphanage, alone, with nothing but failure as his company. He would roam back and forth in his small room hoping one day to find something to make him happy. But he didn't, he just found more disapproval in himself and how his life was treating so far.

He spent around 2185 days in this seems to be hell. Yes, he counted. He would tally off each day and group them by the hundreds for a chance of easier tracking and counting. He didn't get along with many of the boys at the orphanage. He liked to hang around the smaller kids. They didn't care about what others say, they can't even understand what they would say. They were in the toddler years, and contrary from him being a few years older, he spent his time there. He has been in the orphanage since he was 6, he is now 11, and not much has changed. The only thing difference is the change in how vivid his memories were and how much he understood them. The adults told him he was really smart for his age, but he was sure they just said the same thing to most, in an attempt of a slight smile. He would smile, always, it would always be fake, but he would always smile.

Even as the kids called him "fairy Harry". It was not much of an insult but the fact they wanted him to feel insulted, hurt. He would always be captured in books. Yes, in more than a few instances you would catch him reading fairy tales about dragons, princes, princesses, fairies, and unicorns, but that is what he liked, and he had just enough confidence to stick with what he liked. While standing alone you gain a better perspective on the people around you and their behaviors. He noticed how people changed with age. The sweet little four year olds would turn into nose picking trouble makers. He decided that change comes quicker than what most would think.

As he would sit alone, there was a certain je ne sais quoi about it all. It was quiet and just peaceful. He may have not went outside but from what he reads he knows that it can be utter chaos, and it could also be beautiful, and joyful. He was afraid of the possibilities that laid before him, yet he was anxious to see what was to come.

There was talk between nurses that there was a new boy being admitted, a few years older than himself, apparently his mom gave him up for adoption because of a something 'horrific'. Then he misbehaved at other places, and apparently this is the only place that is able to handle his condition or summat. Harry didn't bother to listen more because it really wasn't his business But he grew with excitement because not many new kids came, sure this boy was older, but he may be just like Harry. He has a slim chance of actually gaining a friend.

Harry would never do anything rash, of course not, that would be stupid, and fairly irrational. He would simply watch and observe the boy, see if he is anything like him. Nothing weird about that, completely normal, totally. Harry was a logical thinker, he enjoyed to observe so now he waits until he sees the older boy, then he can see what he is like. He was kind of over excited, just the anticipation made his skin get goose bumps.


Harry had a routine. He would wake up, eat, shower, then brush his teeth. But today was different. He couldn't waste a minute. He had to grab his note pad, and wait for the new boy to arrive. It may seem odd but it was Harry. He liked to observe before taking any risks. He can't get hurt again. He had to be careful, the consequences could effect him. If this boy was anything like Harry he was when he first came he would be confused, even after years. Harry wanted to know what exactly this so called issue they speak of is. Maybe Harry could help him, he may be young, but he still wanted to help, and he was determined to try.

Harry didn't bother to change, he liked his pajamas and they were comfortable. He grabbed a pen and note pad and sat in the front room with the toddlers, again. But this time he didn't pay attention to the younger children, he just stared at the door way waiting for a nurse to come in with the new kid. He wanted to see him, analyse. Harry knew the new kid would be his new fascination, and he did not mind one bit. Harry grew tired of waiting like a lost puppy so he began doodling, nothing but scribbles and his name, but it kept him occupied.


While in the middle of doodling his y he heard a slight chime. His heart raced quickly because he knew that the chime signaled the door being opened. He looked up from his notebook to see a young boy, not too much older than himself, which he expected. He was stubby with his stubby hands and stubby feet and stubby face. Regardless the boy was more beautiful than he expected, with his shaggy hair and bright, yet dimmed, blue eyes. Harry likes seeing the beauty in everything and everyone, it may be seen as weird, but so was he. The boy seemed frightened and sad. He seemed normal though, the kids have a right to be sad and terrified because they have gone through a lot. But the nurses spoke of a condition most places could not contain, so why does he look so normal? Harry knows not every disorder is physical, but you would think even if it was mental you could see what was wrong. All this did for Harry was make him even more determined to study the boy and find out how to fix him. He always read in fairy-tales that the prince is supposed to save the princess, sure there is a gender difference, but that doesn't matter, he always thought that the standards for fairy tales where silly anyways.

He was going to save the boy, like Clarke Kent saves Chloe, multiple times.

Chapter Text

Harry has come to three conclusions
1. The shaggy haired boy's name was Louis
2. Louis was the prettiest thing he has ever seen
3. And Harry is intensely odd and maybe a but creepy in a sense of sorts, but not really, but really.

Harry over the last week has found himself behind garbage cans, chairs and walls. Harry has never been more determined to learn more about someone or something before, he has to know more about Louis. He wants to know what his favorite book is, his favorite movie, his favorite food. He wants to know everything that makes Louis tick. He needs to learn how to approach him, does he just walk up and say hi? Does he just offer him food as a sign of friendship? Does he start with a question to create conversation? Harry wasn't sure, but he needs to figure it out, and the sooner the better. He is eager to talk to this boy. He sees Louis with the toddlers, where Harry usually is, that is the only time he sees the older boy smile. Harry decided that Louis has the best smile, like, ever. Louis kind of reminds him of Belle from Beauty and the Beast. Sure, Belle is a girl, but Louis is just a pretty as one, if not more. Apart from his beauty, he seems kind and caring, much like Belle is portrayed. Harry has caught him reading and eating pastries, just like Belle. So yeah, maybe he can call Louis beau, like a just barely masculine version of Belle. Hey, maybe Louis can sing? He separated himself from his thoughts and looked up toward Louis. Louis was sitting picking at his nails watching over the toddlers, he always looks beautiful, Harry is growing slightly envious, not like he would admit that out loud. Louis, all though with the kids, seemed sad. Harry wanted to hug him.

Harry then unconsciously chose to stand up, even after a week of creeping, he needs to talk face to face with Louis. Harry rose from his crossed-legged stance, and brushed the imaginary lint off of his pants. While walking, he finally took note of his wobbly knees. He was growing more and more nervous. When people are nervous they picture the audience naked, maybe if he thought of Lou- nope. That won't work. Nope. Nope. He'll just pretend that he is a frog. He likes frogs. Especially when they turn into his probable prince. That could work, he was coming closer to Louis and he was getting more nervous. He was less then two feet away and he suddenly couldn't breathe. He tried to speak, yet vowels, randomly just came out, in no particular order. Louis must have heard him try to speak because he began to look up. Harry marveled in Louis' beauty. His eyelashes were gorgeous. Everything, kind of, but really was perfect. Maybe Harry was paying too much attention, but he really could care less, until his eyes connected with Louis'. All he could think of is how pretty he is, he couldn't get it out of his mi- "Can I help you?" Harry tried to say more than vowels, he really did, but Louis' voice contradicted his face, one sweet while the other rugged. He tried to succeed and he actually did. "You're Lou-is, the new kid right?" Harry knew that him pronouncing his name like the teacher did the first time would spark something in him, so he went for it. "It's Loo-ie actually. If you call me Lou-is I will apparently have a conniption, well that is what nuns thought when I corrected them, frail bunch they are." Harry tried to speak again, but nothing really came to mind except "You're pretty." Harry shut his mouth as soon as he realized he said that aloud. He looked up to Louis and he could tell Louis was trying to show no reaction to it, but he was failing miserably. His chubby cheeks were practically scarlet. Harry wanted to smile at that, although it was an accident, he liked that he could make Louis flustered. "Whatever you say, kid." He wasn't sure if he was just trying to get him to leave or not, but he couldn't leave until he at least introduced himself, and even when he did, Louis has little reaction or response, other then a "cool". He just assumed the older boy was just not one of many words, or maybe not to strangers.


Louis was not sure who the hell that boy that he was, but he was stunned. No one just says 'you're pretty', like what kind of person even says that? Louis wouldn't. That is weird and uncalled for. Louis was not pretty. He is messed up, he has a crooked nose, temperamental eyes, a slanted chin, uneven skin, a pudgy stomach and small hands and feet. It astounded him that anyone, for even a second could think he was pretty. It was likely just a superiority complex, since it obvious Louis is older than Harry, maybe a few years but nevertheless. What kind of nerve did that kid have?

Louis was walking down the hall, and glanced at the rooms that were on either side of him. Rooms were free to decorate, yet, most were white. Most rooms were boring, even Louis' was. He was near the end of the hall, until he saw the room on his right wasn't white or boring, people say rooms say a lot about someone, and hell, whoever was in this room, he wanted to meet. The room was filled with colors and drawing that Louis was used to seeing in children's books. The walls were covered with a background that looked almost liquid with all the colors of the rainbow. Upon the background were pictures of mythological and fairy tale creatures. From Princes to ogres to what he believes is Aphrodite. He was in awe. Who ever painted this, was extremely talented, and paid attention closely to detail. He could see the light shining in the characters eyes, one even resembled him, in a way, even though he was dressed as a frog would, but he's not that pretty. Louis turned around and saw a wall blank, with nothing, a blank canvas of sorts he assumed. He wondered what the artist would paint next.

"Louis?" Louis turned around to see the younger boy he saw just a few days ago, the one that was out spoken with his belief at the time. The boy with the stupidly curly curls, and the gigantic, almost anime like green eyes. He kind of just stood there looking at Harry stupidly, probably looking idiotic. He was grabbing onto his elbow, not sure what to say, so he just stuck with a simple "You're a fucking great artist" yeah, that is a great thing to say to a eleven year old, yup. "Uhmm. Thanks, but what are you doing in here?" Louis wan't sure himself why he was still in the roo, how could he tell Harry if he couldn't even tell himself a believable answer? "Is that Aphrodite?" He decides with something that could actually make a real conversation instead of babbling. "Yeah, it is. I love Aphrodite. She's the goddess of love, joy and procreation. And I think that is beautiful." Harry looks over to Louis, maybe to see if he'd stop him by now, but he doesn't. "There are so many stories of her I have read, theories of her birth and the experiences she has faced. It is absolutely fascinating." Harry walks toward his painting, and Louis can't help but smile at Harry's interest in such a topic. "Because of her beauty, other gods feared that their rivalry over her would interrupt the peace among them and lead to war, so Zeus married her to Hephaestus, who, because of his ugliness and deformity, was not seen as a threat. Aphrodite had many lovers—both gods, such as Ares, and men, such as Anchises. I know you may not know all these Gods I speak of, but she was strikingly beautiful, and she still did amazing things" Harry looked entranced, it was kind of beautiful. "There are different forms of her you know, Aphrodite Ourania is associated with spiritual love, and Aphrodite Pandemos with physical love. I just find this so interesting I apologize for blabbering to you. I just love these theories of Gods and Love.."

Louis knew right then, seeing him with the red tint in his cheeks, that Louis wants to know this enigma that is Harry.