Strawberries & Cigarettes

Chapter 13

May 08, 2015

Harry steps beside Aurora, a small smile on his heart-shaped lips, but his sudden towering build startles her out of her wandering head.

She looks up at him and chuckles. "Oh, you scared me, Harry."

He turns to his side and props his elbow on the bakery's counter, a blush rising on his cheeks as he brings his fist up to suppress his cough.

"Lou's coming to pick up lunch," Harry informs her, settling his hand on her shoulder. "Give it to him and don't go all clumsy on me 'cause... Well, y'know."

The mention of Louis melts her smile off of her expression, her insides churning by the thought of his simple presence.

He's a pretty sight but not an inner pretty individual.

A giggle of his causes her eyebrows to knit together, but she catches onto his playful tone so she chuckles herself.

Harry sets the paper bag of food and the black teas in a cup tray on the wooden counter, he pats her back while his emerald eyes glance towards the front door.

Her fluffed wavy locks cover her face as her eyes stay on the cashier, the chime of the golden bell above the glass door revealing that someone has walked in.

His dull cigarette scent clings to the atmosphere, so she recognizes it's Louis right away.

Aurora taps her fingers against the surface of the countertop, stealing a glimpse at him to discover his fingers running through his quiffed hair.

Teeth sinking into his bottom lip, he steps towards her with an eye roll to his phone screen.

She notices how the injuries on his face are barely visible, and her eyes locate a sangria-tinged bruise on the side of his neck.

Louis still hasn't looked up from his phone, so Aurora takes the time to squint her eyes and analyze more little red marks around his hickey.

"Why are you staring at my neck? Do you have some kind of fuckin' neck fetish?" Louis suddenly speaks up, his blue eyes boring at her.

Her doe eyes go wide, she quickly looks away to grab the paper bag and the cup tray to hand it over to him.

There's a diluted silence, her hands still holding up the two items, waiting for him to take them.

But he doesn't.

His stare insists to study her flushed cheeks, up to her lucid hazel eyes that roam anywhere else but at him, and down to her clenched jaw.

"Take it, asshat," Aurora mumbles without thinking twice, her slim fingers tightening around the bag and cup tray.

Louis dryly chuckles. "Whatever you say, Bambi."

Her cheeks burn against the warm aroma of freshly baked pastries, spreading across her ears as one of his hands reaches out to grab the cup tray.

His other hand grips the thin handles of the paper bag, a tiny space between their fingers, but Aurora's hand remains on the bag even after he pulls it.