Harry almost didn't go back to the park the next day.

Just the thought of being struck by another flying yellow frisbee was enough for him to want to stay home. But Anne insisted he go, saying that fresh air is good for him, and the chances of that happening again were little to none.

After ten minutes of Harry pleading to stay home, his mother threatened to take his TV privileges away. And there was no way he would miss the next episode of Modern Family, so he left with a dramatic sigh.

As he walked, he realized how stupid this all was. Why does his mother want him to go so badly? He wouldn't be socializing, so how does this help him?

He found the same spot as yesterday and plopped down on the grass. The wind was a little worse today, and he suddenly wished he brought a beanie to control his hair.

Harry took his notebook out and started doodling. He drew swings, then a slide, then some stick people.

After about fifteen minutes, he got bored. Why did his mother have to be so caring toward him? Why couldn't she just not care and let him stay home?

Those questions will never be answered, because Harry was blessed and cursed with a loving mum.

Apparently coming here was for his own benefit, but he had yet to see that.

Harry flipped to the next clean page and started writing his name over and over again. Occasionally, he looked up and saw the kids playing. They were all running around, and Harry expected at least one of them to trip and fall.

A little boy did end up falling, and Harry rolled his eyes and looked down again. It was then that something caught his eye. A piece of paper was tucked under a fallen branch.

He grabbed it and wiggled it free. At first, he only saw the Hi that he had written. He must have dropped this the day before.

Harry almost questioned how the paper got wedged under a branch when he saw the scratchy writing underneath.

Hello :)

He looked at it for a while, then looked around him. There was no one near him. Who wrote this?

Hesitantly, he picked up his pencil and wrote underneath it, Who wrote this?

He didn't know if it would happen again, but maybe he could get a response from this mystery person.

He tucked the wrinkled paper under the branch again, then stood up and left the noisy park.

~*~

Two hours later, the paper was found by the same feathery haired boy as the day before.

He saw there was new writing on the crumpled paper and took it out from under the branch.

Who wrote this?

He laughed a little, then took the same pen out of his backpack and scribbled another note underneath it.

I did of course :)

"Louis! Let's go!"

Louis looked up, and held up his index finger, telling his friend to wait. The said friend groaned, and threatened to leave the boy behind. They had been walking back home, and apparently he hadn't noticed that Louis had stopped. Louis rolled his eyes, then looked back at the crumpled paper.

He read over the neat handwriting of the other person, a million guesses as to who it is running through his head.

It could be a brunette girl coming home from school. It could be a young man with short blonde hair just taking a walk through the park. It could be a middle aged lady who sits under the tree and writes novels. It could even be an old man who writes to his grandchildren. It could be anyone.

And that's what excites Louis.

The mystery of this situation that he got himself into is exciting. Hopefully whoever it is writes back. Louis will definitely be checking. It's only been a day, but he's intrigued with this person.

"Louis William Tomlinson!"

Louis looked up again, and raised his eyebrows at his friend.

"What?"

"Come on! We need to study!"

Louis sighed, then folded the paper in half. He bent down and tucked it back under the tree branch, making sure it will still be in sight for the other person, but won't blow away.

After it was secure, Louis lifted his backpack back up, and jogged over to his friend. He pushed at the taller boy's shoulder.

"You need to chill out," he said.

Louis was then bumped on the shoulder, and was nearly knocked over. Both boys laughed, and walked back to their apartment.