“Harold, we really don’t need anything on this aisle,” Louis complains, but it’s more giggly than whiny. Harry just ignores him, gripping his hand tighter and pulling him down the wall art aisle of the home decor shop they’re in.
Harry’s eyes dart across the rather cheesy pieces on the shelf, humming thoughtfully like he’s going to take a long time looking. Louis knows he’s just being a little shit. He takes a look at the selection as well, cringing at the paintings of cartoon flowers and cliché inspirational quotes.
After a few moments, Harry perks up. “Oh, Lou, look at this!” he squeals. Louis hasn’t seen whatever Harry is excited about yet, but he already knows that it’s probably going to end up in their basket. Harry picks up the item in question and turns to Louis, presenting the small picture proudly.
It’s just words against a beige background, and it’s kind of ugly to be honest, but.
“You’re my happy ending,” Harry says, interrupting Louis’s thoughts. His smile is huge, and he’s looking at Louis with so much love that Louis thinks they might have to buy two of these things. As much as Louis doesn’t want to admit it, the more he stares at the words on the canvas, the more his heart feels like it’s going to burst from his chest.
After all, Harry is his happy ending, so.
“Quite sappy, but very true nonetheless,” Louis replies finally. He tries not to cackle when Harry lights up like a Christmas tree, dimple popping and nearly looking 16 again. This boy is Louis’s whole world, honestly. He’d buy him a million ugly art pieces with cliché sayings if Harry wanted him to.
“We’re getting it,” Harry declares, plopping it into the basket hanging from Louis’s arm. Louis doesn’t protest.
The next day when Louis wakes up, the first thing he sees is “you are my happy ending” staring back at him from it’s new spot on their dresser. Pretty appropriate, Louis thinks, looking over at his prince sleeping soundly beside him.