Prologue

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A/N: Present will be in Louis' POV and Past will be in Harrys'. Due to this being the prologue it will be half past and half present to set the scene.

Past: 

Harry tapped his pen on his notebook, the frozen air around him making his breathe foggy. He was beginning to regret coming out here at five in the morning just to check out the neighborhood. He stands from his frosty bench, the church overlooking him from that grassy hill that'll soon be covered in snow.

The walk home was going to be empty, like his bedroom which he'll return to will be, as they had only moved in yesterday. Harry was only twelve, about to begin the first year of secondary school. He had moved away from his old town due to his mother being offered a job to teach at the primary school.

The small boy shoved his leather bound notebook into his small satchel, wiped his red nose, tugged his beanie down over his ears, and shoved his hands in his pockets, trudging through the crunchy grass back to his new house. I wasn't his home though, not yet.

His curls stick out around his pink ears, his green eyes reflect the cloudy autumn sky. Harry was quite tall for his age, about two inches taller than most of his peers, he wore a brown scarf, wrapped so many times around his neck it almost covered his mouth, a black coat, unbuttoned, and black jeans. 

Due to his slightly out of the norm clothing and strange habit of taking out his notebook and writing down poems spontaneously, he found it hard to make friends. He kicked a rock down the road, and watched it skim over the tar. He frowned as he turned onto his street, staring at his converse.

Maybe if I close my eyes it'll all go away. It'll just be a dream I made up in my stupid head.

And then he's knocked to the ground, a smaller body fell on top of his, he gasped and rolled away, his notebook pages fall everywhere.

"Oops," He whispered, and turned to watch a soft haired boy sit up and rub his forehead. The boy smiles sheepishly. 

(A/N: guys, I've seen Louis in real life his hair looks SOFT. SO SOFT.)

"Hi." He looks around at the loose papers, "I am so so sorry," He stuttered and reached over to pick some up. 

"No!" Harry lunged in front of his and scooped them up frantically, desperate for him to not see the poems. The boy watched him, frown deeply etched between his eyebrows.

"Are you alright?" He asked, concern lacing his tone. Harry shoved the notebook back into his satchel and stared at the boy.

His eyes were blue. But not just a regular blue, Harry thought, Not the kind of blue that people think when you say, oh their eyes were blue. That's like saying the sky has stars. Of course it does, but have you ever sat there, admiring every single one, unlocking their every secret? Yes his eyes are blue, but it's a blue that makes me want to fall into them endlessly.

Harry blinked and sat up properly, clearing his throat, "Yeah. I'm alright. Sorry."

The boy smiles, a beautiful, slightly smug smile that echoed in Harry's brain. "Nothing to apologize for. Have we met?"

Harry looked into his eyes for a moment. You know what, He thought, I wouldn't mind drowning in those eyes, given the chance. What a poetic way to go.

"I don't think so," Harry said, as the other boy stood and helped him up. Harry's fingers tingled. "I'm Harry, I moved here yesterday."

The other boy grins a toothy grin and holds out his hand to shake Harry's.

"I'm Louis." He shakes Harry's hand so hard Harry feels woozy. But he smiled back and shoved his hands back into his coat pockets.

"Hi, Louis, what are you doing out so early?"

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