Work Text:
Harry walks between the rows of blooming roses, eyes on the only Earthly being who could ever shine brighter than the sun. Flowers may try, but Louis is a light unto himself, where petals only reflect.
“Hi, baby,” Louis coos, his baby blues shimmering as he looks up from the tulips he’s just planted. “Whatcha think?” he asks, standing to meet Harry in a gentle kiss, chapped lips on sticky, wet ones, sweetened by freshly-squeezed lemonade.
Harry smiles at his husband, pulling him closer. “They’re beautiful, honey.”
And even after all this time, Louis blushes to challenge the pink blossoms.