When Louis was a child, he always found himself, looking outside, hoping he could capture the sunbeams reflecting on the flower petals.

The blue eyed boy, recalls his childhood memories as he strolls between tall trees, graceful flowers and happy butterflies. Spring always used to be his favourite season, and he doesn't think that he will change his mind about it soon.

Always looking around and pressing that one button that makes the time stop, Louis wants to capture all the grace and beauty that spring oozes. Somehow, even after all these years trying to snap the perfect picture he's yet to succeed. He starts to think that beauty can't be imprisoned in camera lens and timeworn pictures, hanging on the walls.

His eyes scan the scenery surrounding him. Completely stunning. His eye catches a silhouette, lying on the grass, two hands holding a book and curious eyes scanning the pages trying to devour every single word. He's standing only some metres for the mysterious man. His legs cautiously take some steps forward, as if they have their own will. Louis feels his palms sweating at the close proximity he has with the real life exhibit, lying on the grass, right in front of his eyes.

His fingers cluch his Polaroid camera, lifting it up, ever so slowly and carefully so he won't reveal himself hiding behind a tree. One. Two. Three snaps. His hands tremble as his finger presses that same button. He takes a look at the pictures he has in his hands. Holding them like some kind of treassure. Who knows when he'll find such a beauty again.

"Hey!" A deep voice rings in his ears. His head snaps up so fast, frightened of who might be the one who called him. His knees almost buckle at the sight in front of him. Tall and lean frame. Long curly hair and breathtaking emerald eyes. His voice is stuck in his throat. His mouth is dry and his eyes wide, curious, they almost look innocent. A pair of innocent, blue eyes.

"I- I am sorry, what?" Louis stutters. He feels the heat rising from his neck to his cheeks, setting them on fire.

"Were you taking pictures of me?" Louis' heart sinks in the pit of his stomach. His fists clench and unclench. His perfectly shaped, rosy lips, open and close, trying to form a sentence, but failling misserably.

"I-I...No...I mean...Yes." He sighs in defeat. He feels the embrarassment crawling in his body and nesting in his chest.

"May I ask why?" The tall man, asks. With a voice so smooth you would feel as it's gliding on silk before it reaches his ears. Louis fumbles with his new possesions inbetween his fingers. His eyes skimming over the bright colours and mysterious figures.

"I though that you looked pretty." His mouth vomits the words before his brain can catch up. As soon as he realises what he has said it's quite late. The handsome man is looking down at Louis' petite frame, having a small smile gracing his dark lips. The rather embarassed boy looks at his green irises. He's captivated, mesmerised even. He has never seen so beautifuly vibrant and hypnotic eyes.

"You think I'm pretty?"

"I...no...I meant the scenery. I-It's very pretty. Don't you think?" The man's lip twiches as he tries to desperately hide a laugh. The melodic sound of his joyful chuckle fills Louis' entire being. He's entirely mesmerised by this mysterious man with a half buttoned shirt and painfuly tight jeans, hugging his rather lean and long legs. And he thinks to himself that he might have never met someone like him. So intresting even if he hasn't still got to know him.

The tall man looks at him with a humourous look. The crinckles around his eyes give away his amusement. "I do." He clears his throat. Louis feels like he might throw up, and it would be a shame to humiliate himself in front of such a man. "I can't speak to a nameless man though, May I know your name?" Louis gulps, gaining all the courage he needs.

"Louis. My name is Louis. Louis Tomlinson." He says, a huge weight lifting off his shoulders. "What's yours?" He asks him. Louis feels like today is his day. Starting a conversation with a beautiful stranger in the middle of the park, after taking pictures of him, lying on the grass, letting the blazzing sun, soak his ivory skin.

"Harry Styles, pleasure to meet you!" Harry extends his hand for a handshake. Louis' arm hesitates to touch Harry's, fearing that if he does he might evaporate in thin air, proving him that indeed such a stunning creature is a figment of his imagination.

"The pleasure is all mine." Louis smiles. Harry's eyes light up when he sees him, blushing at the touch. A warm feeling spreading throughout his body just from skin touching. So simple, so pure.

"Do you mind joining me over there?" His long finger points at the the spot where his book lies open, facing the dimming sun, revealing all its secrets to the skies. Louis carefuly sets his camera next to him, after sitting down as well. Harry sits cross legged in front of him, playing with the sparkly rings on his fingers.

"So why were you taking pictures of me?"

"I wasn--"

"I know you were, no need to lie to me." Harry gives Louis one of the warmest smiles. And he thinks to himself: how can a man that seems so intimidating, be so sweet?

"I just..." He tries to explain his actions to Harry, sitting right there in front of him, looking so handsome that he thinks his heart might jump out of his chest. "I thought that you looked beautiful." He confesses. His jaw tightens, waiting for him to laugh, find it funny and weird. Instead of that Harry asks something else.

"Why polaroid?" He points at the long forgotten camera on the ground. Louis follows his hand with his gaze. He shrugs.

"I suppose, it's because whatever you snap, stays. You can't delete a picture, it is what it is. Nice or bad. And I also like holding the pictures in the palms of my hands. Feel their texture, graze my fingers over the portraits of my loved ones or something desirable."

Harry keeps looking at him curiously. "You know...I paint." He takes a sip of his water. His plump lips wrapping around the rim of the bottle. Louis shifts in his place. "I also have an exhibition."

Louis' eyebrows rise. "Oh do you? Where?"

"At my place." Harry smirks and Louis' chest feels as if thousands of fireworks are exploding inside.

"Did you just..."

"I did. Do you wanna come?" Harry is already standing on his feet, his dark boots stepping on the green grass as the sun finally sets behind him, painting the sky crimson. Something Louis always found incredible.

He nods. He takes Harry's hand and gets up as well. Retrieving the camera from the ground.

The night is still young. He thinks to himself.

...

Louis sits down in the soft sofa, rubbing his hands together in anxiousness. Harry takes his shoes off and sits next to him, not giving him enough space to adjust. Shifting in his seat he turns his tiny body to look at Harry, who's having an undefined look in his eyes. Louis studies him closer. His eyes, his hair, the shadow his eyelashes cast on his cheeks, the way he softly exhales and the tiny freckles on his skin. He's angelic. Louis knows that he's falling deeper in the black hole that Harry Styles is, vanishing his sanity forever.

"When you said that you found me beautiful did you mean it?" Harry comes closer to Louis, his hand extending, lightly touching Louis' cheek. The blue eyed boy closes his eyes, breathing deeply, savouring the feeling of rough fingers against smooth skin.

"Y-yes." Louis desperately tries to keep his voice normal as Harry inches even closer to him. His presence engulfing him. He breathes in his rich perfume, he gives in his feather like touches as he slightly pushes his jaw, against Harry's palm.

"Good."

"Why?" Louis' eyes open, revealing the deep blue sea hiding behind his eyelids and as Harry sees them up close he thinks that his eyes might hold the entire world in them.

"Because, I think that it would be nice if the feeling was mutual." Louis eyes widen.

"What do you mea--" He doesn't get to finish his sentence, as Harry's face is way too close. His breath softly fanning his lips.

"Shut up." He whispers. Lips intertwine, souls find their match, and pottential love floats around the room as Harry meets Louis in a shy and heartfelt kiss.

And that's when Louis thinks that a couple of Polaroid pictures might have changed his life, forever.