I ship Gallavich so there'll probably be a lot of that on your dash...

If you have a problem with something I'm posting unfollow or ask me to tag so you can blacklist.

here's a ”http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yuf2nvDWCJY”>breadfish
idk i don't have much to say

i'm quite a simple person
i just like captain crunch
and one direction
Fanfiction Masterpost Me Larry Oneshots Writing

"A Broken Hallelujah" Chapter 1

image

When evil is all you’ve ever known, can an angel rescue you from your own personal hell or are you doomed behind the cold, unfriendly shoulder of the world?

Pairings: Flower child!Harry Punk!Louis

Rating: Mature

An: so basically flunk!Larry is the best Larry and this probably sucks but yeah… (oh and edit credit to sniffing Larry)

It was a warm day in the fields of Southern France, and Louis Tomlinson was free at last. He stood in silence allowing the cool breeze to hover around his painted body. He couldn’t even begin to imagine how many times he’d thought of this moment, standing amongst the tall grass with the sun lapping against his already tan face with the scents of spring flooding through his nostrils. He finally made it, and it was everything he had hoped for and more. But something significant was different than what he had pictured, another sense had been added to the mix. A faint sort of fiddling sound met his ears along with the subtle cheers of people.

Without a thought, Louis followed the noise, curious to find out what kind of an event would take place at such an early hour. He walked through tall patches of sweet smelling lavender and across grazing pastures while the sounds grew louder, until he could make out the shapes of small tan tents crowded around a large wooden stage in the distance.

Louis’ eyes gleamed with excitement as they fell upon the deserted make-shift homes that had clothing and art supplies strewn about. He felt rather out of place with his tight leather jeans, cotton white t-shirt, piercings, and tattoo painted body, but he didn’t linger on such thoughts, instead just content to enjoy the calm of it all, something he surely would’ve detested a mere two years ago.

He walked through the little camp of sorts until he found where everybody had gone. Masses of people gazed, as if entranced, at the stage where two boys sat cross legged. One was playing what seemed to be a flute while the other sang. Neither could have been older than Louis himself, but he immediately felt as if he were somehow beneath them because of the pure grace of their combined talents.

While the boy with the flute played expertly, moving his fingers gently in a beautiful pattern, it was the singer who attracted Louis’ attention. The way he held himself was absolutely mesmerizing, his eyes were closed and his head extended, making his bulging veins even more visible as he strained to be heard as far as he could without the assistance of a microphone. Louis’ eyes trailed over the boys’ body tracing all the way from his bare feet to the large crown made entirely of flower petals that sat atop his outrageous brown curls.

Louis’ mouth dropped open  wide when his brain began to function normally again, allowing the sound to filter through. He was absolutely astonishing. The boy’s voice was deep and throaty, yet smooth almost like vocal velvet.

The people around him began to notice Louis’ presence now, but he didn’t care, and apparently neither did they. Aside from the occasional side smile, no one really paid attention to him.

Just as the last chords of the song began to drag out, the boy looked up, revealing a pair of dazzling green eyes that settled in Louis’ direction. Louis’ eyes widened in what seemed to be a mixture of shock and fear, but the boy only smiled a little as he belted out the last words.

Louis dropped to his knees, joining the others on the ground in order to escape the wandering eye of the boy, but it was no use as his eyes remained firmly locked on Louis’ bowed head.

 When the song came to its final stop the crowd applauded enthusiastically and the boys carefully stood, bowing slightly before trotting off the stage. Louis didn’t lift his head just yet in case they hadn’t actually left yet, but he could hear the next act begin to set up. Breathing out a sigh of relief, Louis looked up to find that the boys were, in fact, gone and he had just narrowly avoided a potentially awkward situation.

Unfortunately for him, he thought to soon. In a split second Louis could feel fingers lightly tapping away at his shoulder.

"Salut!" a voice rang out behind him. Louis inwardly cursed himself as he twisted his body to see the singer from earlier crouching down behind him.

"I erm," Louis began to scratch at the back of his head anxiously searching for the right thing to say, "I’m sorry, but I don’t speak French."

The boy smiled in what seemed to be relief, “Oh good, you’re English. My French is limited, but I thought the best way to hit on you would be in your native language so now I can probably do it better.”

Louis laughed aloud and could feel his cheeks begin to color. Now more than ever he was grateful for his natural tan. “Well, you are quite forward, but I think it’s working for you.”

The boy’s smile widened into a full blown beam that seemed to make the sun seem dim in comparison. “I’m Harry,” he stuck his hand out for Louis to grab and promptly pulled him to his feet.

Louis began to pat away the dust on his pants, “Like the wizard?”“

Harry giggled, yes this divine flower child giggled, “Yeah, like that.”

Louis could practically feel his eyes soften as he looked at the broad dimples adorning Harry’s deliciously red cheeks, “Well Mr. Potter, I’m Louis.” They heard the gentle strumming of a guitar behind them, and Harry grabbed Louis’ wrist.

"Come on, wouldn’t wanna disturb the performance now would we?"

Louis shook his head fervently, “No, definitely not.”

Harry began to drag Louis in a sort of zig-zag pattern away from the cheery crowd and past the lines of tents, once again in the open fields. Harry plopped down in an empty patch of dirt beside the large lavender stalks, ushering for Louis to join him. “So, Louis, you seem a bit far from home. What brought you here?”

Louis’ mind flashed for a second and his heart raced rapidly, “Oh, you know, vacation. You get tired of the city after a while.” Technically, it wasn’t a lie, and Louis prided himself on that.

Harry nodded, rocking the flower crown on his head slightly. “Yeah. It’s so frustrating out there. Everyone is always so rude because they can never slow down and just enjoy life.”

Louis tilted his head, basking in the warm sunlight. He felt his body begin to unwind and relax, all of the tension that had built up in the past two years suddenly dissolved. “Is that even possible?”

Harry furrowed his eyebrows, resting his head on his upturned palms and staring inquisitively at Louis, “Well, yeah, if they just forgot about all of the material things for a moment and just appre-”

“No, I mean can anyone really enjoy life?” Louis interjected. “Sure, you can have a glimpse of happiness every now and again, but in the end everything will inevitably turn to ruin.” He exhaled deeply, it felt good to unload his thoughts, but he knew he’d probably just run Harry off.

Louis shut his eyes not wanting to see Harry walk away, but for some reason he never heard the soft padding of footsteps or the crunch of dried grass beneath heavy feet. Instead, he felt piercing eyes on his profile. It was interested rather than judging, but Louis knew not to get his hopes up.

“I find it to be the opposite,” Harry noted after a while of silence, “I’ll have a bad day on occasion, but most of the time I genuinely love life.”

“That’s because you’re a cherub,” Louis chuckled, opening one eye to gage Harry’s reaction, and it was glorious.

Harry’s eyes blew wide open and his jaw fell in surprise. “Well if I’m a cherub, you, you’re a…a punk!”

Louis let a bark of laughter pass through his upturned lips, “Oh really? A punk? Oh dear Mr. Potter, tell me, did somehow transport here from 1965?”

“First of all my last name is Styles, but as a matter of fact, it is you who has descended from the future. Look around you, we are all hippies here. It’s like French Woodstock,” Harry’s voice was bubbling with giggles, and Louis watched on fondly as Harry tried, and failed, to compose himself.

“That reminds me, what isthis anyway?” he gestured to the camp that they’d left behind where the atmosphere had heightened to a more wild sort of party.

“Well, I’m not exactly sure to be honest,” Harry shrugged, “Me and my mate Liam kind of just travel from town to town and see what happens. We kind of just came upon this little shin dig about three days ago, and we haven’t had the heart to leave yet.”

“It’s like Hipster Heaven.” Louis leaned back, stretching his arms wide beside him as he yawned.

Harry shrugged, not feeling like having the whole hipster debate right there, and instead took to tracing along the lines of Louis’ tattoo coated arm. “Maybe I’ll get a tattoo one day,” Harry thought aloud as his fingers worked their way up Louis’ arm, dangerously close to his T-shirt.

“I can’t picture you with tattoos,” Louis grinned, “you’re too innocent.”

“Am not!” Harry pouted, removing his hands from Louis and folding them indignantly across his chest.

“Are too! You’re wearing a flower crown for god’s sakes,” Louis pushed himself up on his elbows and reached up to toy with the delicate bouquet atop Harry’s head. “But that’s okay. It’s cute.”

Harry huffed rolling his eyes in exasperation, “I’m not cute,” he grumbled. “I’m manly, like a stallion…or a bear.”

“Of course you are,” Louis nodded, trying his best to repress the laugh building up in his throat. He looked out to the surrounding countryside and found that the sun lay directly before them, coloring the sky in a pinkish glow. “It’s getting late.”

“Yeah,” Harry yawned, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand, and turning to face Louis expectantly.

“I should probably get going…” Louis threw his thumb in the direction of the road, but Harry’s face never changed from his doe-eyed expression.

“No. You really shouldn’t.”

“And why is that?”

“Because I’d miss you,” Harry said simply.

It was crazy, but it was enough for Louis. All his life he’d been waiting for someone to care and finally it seemed like maybe he wasn’t completely worthless, even if this was a complete stranger. 

Louis slunk back down to his lying position, pulling Harry down with him, and placing one arm securely around Harry’s impossibly long waste. The ground was uncomfortable and the air had quickly become chilly, but it was honestly the best night’s sleep Louis ever got.

 

  1. bowlcutlou reblogged this from twerk-it-larry
  2. twerk-it-larry posted this
mockngjaye
Flag Counter