Buy Me Purple Flowers First | L.S [REWRITING]

25

Watching the mother and child meet after years of separation is described in an emotion Louis had never experienced.

Harry's hand is firmly wrapped around Louis' and he's nervously tapping his foot against the side of the couch. It had only been two days since Harry had returned from hiding, and Louis felt as if it was time to announce the news to him; finding it selfish to not confront the reality that is Harry's mother staying 5 rooms down from them.

Harry took the news well, better than Louis had expected. He was expecting another outburst, even expected another two weeks of hiding from him. Perhaps a scream of uncertainty, but when the news did escape Louis' mouth, Harry only pressed his lips into a line and nodded.

Harry isn't ready, something he admitted to Louis and himself.

But time was never on their side with this situation and Harry would have never felt ready, so with a deep breath and the comfort of Louis beside him, Anne opens the door with a shy peek into the hotel room.

Her movements are slow and cautious as if approaching a lion's den or trespassing on dangerous property. With hands shaking, and eyes large with curiosity, relief, and uncertainty she pushes the door open a few inches more. Harry grips Louis' hand tighter at the movement of the door, only realizing how real the situation is at this moment.

In theory, it sounded scary enough but now confronted with the reality of his mother standing only a few feet away from them, presence being protected behind a door. It's even more petrifying.

"Lou," Harry breathes in regret.

He can't manage to complete his sentence before the door is wide open and the two can only stare at each other from a distance no further than a few steps. The closest they've been to one another since the time of their grief of Harry's father. When Harry's youth was still intact and his innocence still yet to be tainted. Anne choked on her breath at the sight of Harry. She had seen photographs, stories from Louis, and an idea of what her boy had grown up to be; but seeing him in the flesh was so incredibly surreal.

Harry's squeezing all the feeling out of Louis' hand, a physical painful representation of how Harry feels. Guilt pulses through Louis' veins for subjecting Harry to this so early in his return, but understands this is only a temporary reaction.

Harry attempts to act strong, keeping his guard up by the hard framing of his chest. Puffed and his jaw clenched. But as he and Anne continue to stare at one another, his gaze becomes less stern and suddenly his vision is blurred by a tear glaze forming over his retinas.

"Did you mean it?" He sputters.

An unspoken rule of their separation was to never mention this, the wrongly said statement Anne had spoken out of despair and heartbreak.

"Were you just going to abandon me?"

Her eyes enlarge and her heart shrinks two sizes.

"Baby," She whispers stepping forward, "I could never mean that, I'm so sorry,"

Louis drops Harry's hand after the alpha releases his grip. Louis steps a few feet away from the two and Harry doesn't notice the separation, far too indulged by his birth mother admitting her mistake. Anne steps in front of Harry, too nervous to act on any form of physical contact. Harry's chest is puffed out in a defense mechanism once more as she steps forward.

"Every night I couldn't sleep, an hour at best," She whispers, "I was so worried, I couldn't eat or think properly, I looked for years, traveled halfway across the world."

Harry's chest falls and his eyes well with tears.

"Where did you go then?" He tries to keep his guard up, despite the tears that threaten to fall, "The lady couldn't give me as much as a number to find you,"