Harry was fourteen when he started wandering around the forest every lunch during sophomore year and sometimes during weekends, making his parents believe he was hanging out with his reckless friends rather than looming around the area with scattered trees and moss and dewdrops.
He was fourteen when he found the field of wild flowers and massive trees and honey bees within the eerie depths of the forest. He was kicking broken twigs and scattered rocks, making a path so he wouldn't forget. He was mapping out the whole forest when then he caught a glimpse of sunshine and splashes of color in the mostly dark forest and the first thing he thought was—holy shit—because the place was so amazing he'd think it was kept neat by professional gardeners if it wasn't perfectly hidden so he decided he'd spend every lonely lunch time here watching the clouds roll by and away from antagonizing stares because that's just what he needed—his own little paradise where the world seemed to stop and flowers bloomed everywhere. It's as if he was meant to find the place and even if it was abandoned, he didn't care one bit.
Harry was fifteen when he started picking random flowers of different colors and plopped down under the shade of this favorite tree, where he carved a little h on using his cutter, and started arranging the flowers on the grass in front of him in the shape of a heart. specifically, an empty heart.
Every single day he made one of those empty hearts scattered somewhere in the plain grass where flowers didn't grow at all and came back the next day to see if they got blown away by the wind or had withered, only to make a new one.
Harry was turning sixteen when he realized he didn't dislike every one of his classmates, because the day he turned sixteen was the day he got his first birthday gift that wasn't given to him by his parents: a lonely white daisy.
It was from a new transferee named Louis and he didn't know it was his birthday but coincidentally gave Harry the flower on the exact day because some Irish lad had pushed him to do so. Harry was confused, one part because he was used to getting ignored and the other because how did they know it was his birthday?, so when Louis handed him the daisy and their hands brushed against each other in a quick moment that felt like an eternity to Harry he turned his head down so Louis couldn't see the blush forming in his cheeks and how he couldn't fight back the smile on his face but when he wanted to look at Louis again he was greeted by the empty hallways because maybe Louis thought Harry had hated it and turned away so he couldn't make it worse.
It felt like Louis wast even there in the first place and it made Harry feel bad. He didn't even get to thank Louis.
Harry was seventeen when he reached the flowery meadows and found the empty heart filled with daisies and poppies with a few spaces missing ones because of the wind, apparently. He was scared to death because someone found out about the place and this place wasn't just his' anymore. But whatever. What was the point in giving up the place if some stranger who filled those empty hearts didn't do him any harm anyway? So he made another empty heart, this time using rose petals and left only to come back the next day, which was a Saturday. And he never usually went there on Saturdays but what the hell, he didn't have anything important to do anyway?
Harry was seventeen when he walked into the forest, and when he finally reached his destination, he was surprised to see a certain brunet who wore a flower crown on his head and had a bunny in his arm while filling out the empty heart made of roses by more flowers.
He looked enchanted.
Harry thought for a second that maybe Louis was a fairy who used glamour to hide his wings and holy shit that's what you get when you read too much fiction.
Harry had been staring for too long and it was too late to hide behind this tree now, because the fairy adjusted the flower crown on his head letting go of the snow-white bunny for a second when it ran towards Harry's direction. When Louis had looked up harry must've looked funny because he chuckled and his eyes seemed to sparkle. Maybe it was just the drug he had to take to feel normal doing this to Harry because the dainty fairy with a halo of flower crowns on his head seemed to open his wings that fluttered with joy as the boy patted the grass next to him with crinkling eyes.
Harry was seventeen when he felt the urge to learn how to weave flower crowns for the boy who owned a bunny and thought he had his own paradise too, realizing they were both wrong because this was their paradise. Theirs and the little bunny's.
Harry was seventeen and he was sitting next to the boy who made him stop lying to his parents about hanging out with his friends—well, friend—because this time it was real and this fairy was teaching him how to weave flower crowns with daisies and lilacs, like the one he gave Harry on his birthday and all he could think about was LouisLouisLouis.
It was then when he realized that he liked Louis. A lot.
He didn't eat lunch on his own anymore. He ate lunch with Louis. On special days, he'd even have picnics with Louis. He took care of Snow the bunny with Louis. He lied down on the grass and watched the clouds with Louis. He did everything with Louis and Louis was his everything.
Harry was eighteen when Louis leaned against the tree where the old h had been carved as Harry cried against Louis' chest, pitying himself and asking Louis stupid questions like, why are you even friends with me? and how could you stand seeing me like this and not change the way you think of me? , because Louis knew the answers would be always so simple.
I'm friends with you because i love you. and no, I can't stand seeing you like this, H, and i am more than willing to stay here and hug you so tight until all your broken pieces snap back together and then after that, I'd still be here because again, I love you.
So that day, Harry sat and watched as Louis carved a little l next to his little h as he carved through the h again to make it look new. And that day, Harry realized that he loved Louis.
Harry was now twenty one and Louis, twenty three. Harry still weaved Louis flower crowns as they sat on the swing set in their yard. Snow was on Louis' lap and Louis stared in awe at Harry and his own little garden remembering all those memories they shared and smiled thinking about those they will have.
They still made hearts with flowers and visited the meadows sometimes when they needed a break from life and just needed to be with themselves and there aren't any empty hearts anymore because they arranged the flowers together, all whole and not missing one space but even if it did, Harry and Louis were enough to fill an entire galaxy with love anyway.