Smut and fluff

Take me into your loving arms

By The_Gardeners_Cigarette

He was in a coffee shop just five miles out of Manchester. It was an Irish coffee shop, one he had never heard of. He was only inside for warmth from the damp weather outside and he half expected to get kicked out for not buying anything like the other shops had done to him, but no, they welcomed his stay.

The boy looked outside the window at the rainy weather. The sky was a light grey and threatened rain again and he hoped to catch a place dry to sleep tonight. He bit the end of his pencil and continued writing. He had kept a journal for some time now, because he often had no one to talk to. That, and he was a naturally quiet person, tended to keep to himself. He had no friends and that was his biggest regret. He wished he had been more open in school and had made at least one friend; then maybe I wouldn't be in this situation. He assumed.

Harry Styles had turned eighteen last February, that being a key factor as to why his family cut him off. The main reason was being a homosexual. Harry felt his stomach flop and all of a sudden the water that the nice waitress gave to him on the house, felt like it would be coming up soon. He tried hard not to think about them and continued back to writing. Harry liked to write. He had achieved high marks in school because of it. No one had read his private journals, or anything like that, but if they did, then they would surly be pulled into a chaotic world, relieved of emotional breakdown laced in the up most fanciest cursive.

Harry pulled on the sleeve of his dark blue jumper, going back to writing. He stopped when he felt a presence next to him. Looking up slowly, he noticed a fake-blond boy with bright blue eyes, wearing black trousers and his white shirt tucked in with a matching black vest. He was dressed like all the other waiters here and Harry prepared himself for the usual line he was given if he stayed somewhere too long: "I'm sorry sir, you have order something, or leave,"

But they never came.

"Hello." The Blond had a cheery voice.

"Hi," Harry mumbled, trying to cover his notebook.

"That, uh, what are you writing there?" Harry was sure that what the waiter was doing was highly against any form of rules or standards the shop had. Not to mention, the blonde was a bit too close for comfort. "Nothing." Harry replied, putting his Journal in his bag.

The Blond waiter with sparkling blue eyes took notice of Harry's black Herschel Bag. It looked to be full if Harry was having a hard time trying to zip it.

"Oh, my bad. I'm Niall."

"Hello Niall." Harry gave a friendly smile before standing up. "I best be off-"

"But you just got here, and you've only had a glass of water, please stay."

"Sorry to disappoint, but I only came in for some water." It was half a lie. Harry had been parched but hadn't counted on someone giving him a free glass of water.

"So, you liked it? I poured it for you. Would have given it to you me-self but I had tables so Cindy had to." Niall chuckled. Harry rolled his eyes. The guy was hitting on him.

"Well, don't let me keep you from your tables." Harry began to walk away.

"Oh-but." Niall stopped him. "I don't have them anymore, and I'd to talk. You seem very friendly." Harry knew not to fall for that one.

"I'd rather not." He wanted to get the hell out of here.

"But-"

"Excuse me." Both men turned around seeing a shorter man sitting at a table behind them holding a small cup of tea. He took a sip and then gently placed it on the table, his pinkey out the whole time. Harry hadn't noticed the man before which was odd, normally he could feel the presence of someone before he saw them, he blamed himself for being so deep in writing. Standing up, the man was slightly shorter than Harry but came eye-level to Niall.