Maria

“He watches Harry making intricate patterns, using the last of the glitter. “Are you making it so we can never be found?” Louis laughs, and the bucket dangles from his slack fingers.

Harry’s smile falters immediately as he sprinkles the last of his handful.

“Something like that.” He brushes his hands off on his trousers, and just like that, he’s back to his stoic poetry. “You can be found, if you like. But I don’t want to be.”
― Velvetoscar, Young & Beautiful

“Harry’s smile twitches at the corner. “I like that one,” he drawls in protest. “I chose him specifically.”

Louis looks up. “Him?”

“Aloysius.”

“Aloysius,” Louis repeats in a deadpan. “You named a shriveled strawberry Aloysius.”

Harry shines proudly, looking up to meet Louis’ gaze. “Yeah,” he nods with bright eyes and a half-smile.

“Right then. Just checking,” Louis says, and offers his palm.”
― Velvetoscar, Young & Beautiful

“He’s leaving, and he picks up his shoulder bag on the way out and he’s staring at the ceiling, then the sky, and he closes the door silently behind him, and he stares upward because the minute he looks down, the tears will fall.

And he won’t cry over Harry Styles.

So Louis doesn’t look down.”
― Velvetoscar, Young & Beautiful

“Listen, and you will realize that we are made not from cells or from atoms. We are made from stories.”
― Mia Couto