flower [book 2] ❊ l.s.

one - sweet creature

February felt about the same as October. The whole winter was a blur in Louis's mind, flashes of crisp new coats and steaming, home-cooked dinners and warm, tangled covers.

And Harry.

He stole a glance into the kitchen, smiling when he caught sight of Harry's side profile. Finally, Harry was starting to put on a bit of weight, his cheeks pink and squishy where they used to be pallid and bony, almost sunken into his skull. A single glance into the next room settled Louis's nerves -- because after all this time, Harry was finally starting to look healthy and happy.

It was hard to believe how much could change over the course of a few months. Louis's life had gone from mindless routine to daily changes, watching Harry grow from feeling out of place in Louis's world to feeling safe there. He watched Harry grow into the space he was meant to fill.

"Red," Harry said, sitting across from Niall at the kitchen table. "Red. Red. Black. Red. Black."

"This is too easy," the Irish boy complained. He paused his card-flipping for a moment, studying Harry intently for a moment before deciding, "Try the suit! That'll be more fun than the color."

"Leave him be. He's not your personal entertainment," Louis quipped from the living room, one eyebrow raised in a protective glare. He and Liam were engaged in a cut-throat video game, but he always had an eye or an ear on Harry.

Harry just smiled, ignoring Louis's overprotective remark, and he continued. "Hearts. Spades. Uh, hearts. Diamonds. Diamonds. Clubs . . ."

"You're such a pushover," Louis complained, his tone a bit whiny.

"You just wish you were as talented as him," Niall shot back. They had gone through the entire deck already, and Harry had only confused two cards. He shuffled and started flipping again.

"No, I wish you'd give him a rest. He's going to have a headache later because of you."

"I'm training my brain," Harry waved him off, patient and always eager to please. "It'll be good for me. I've got to keep my psychic talents in tip-top shape if I want to keep my job, right?"

"Well, don't train for too much longer. I want you to be able to sleep tonight."

"You worry too much," Liam told him. "And while you're busy worrying, I'm going to beat your ass at this game."

Louis rolled his eyes. "Oh, come off it. I could beat you half-asleep with my eyes closed."

"It's nearly five. You should start getting ready if you're going to make your dinner meeting," Harry told them. "Um, spades. Diamonds. Spades. I think it's supposed to snow tonight. The roads might be bad, and they'll only get worse the later you leave."

"Snow? It's February." Liam's tone was thick with disbelief. His eyes didn't even leave the TV screen, still intensely focused. "It hasn't snowed in February for . . . what, two years? Three?"

Within the next hour, tiny spots of snow were spiralling past the large window in Louis's living room. Liam gave Harry an annoyed glare from where he was standing, but Harry only laughed.

Louis looked on from the hallway, tying his tie with expert fingers. There was no doubt that his friends had accepted Harry into their circle; in fact, there was a good chance that both Liam and Niall liked Harry more than they liked him anymore. Harry and Niall had grown closer than high school schoolgirls, always gossipping and giggling about something new. As hard as Liam tried to hate Harry for his psychic abilities and his lack of filter, Louis watched as the other boy's soft spot for Harry grew and grew.