~ Harry ~*~
Two weeks pass by, and without classes to keep him busy, Harry is beyond bored. He replaces his laptop, with albeit a much cheaper one, but it’s enough to get by for now. He has the money in his account to get something better, but he doesn’t want to take any chances that the money stops coming in leaving him with only what’s left in the account. He’d rather starve than ask his dad for help.
Harry has tried binging Netflix, but even that feels mundane and tiresome. The guy from his temporary fix on Halloween has called more than ten times over the last couple of weeks. Harry probably owes him an explanation for just up and leaving, but he avoids the calls anyway. What’s the point? The guy obviously prefers Louis. But, then again, who wouldn’t? At least he has another Temporary Fix request that he accepted last week for tonight. The girl seems better than the others if their chat last night was any indication, but obviously, he's been wrong before, so he isn’t holding his breath.
Harry shows up five minutes early to the bar they had agreed on to meet for drinks. When the girl finally arrives twenty-four minutes late, she’s already drunk. Harry sighs in aggravation. So much for some nice conversation. Rather than lifting the stool to pull it out from where it is tucked under the bar, the girl drags it across the floor so that it lets out a loud screech and suddenly all eyes in the bar are on them. Lovely. Where’s the hole in the floor when you desperately need it to disappear through?
“Hi,” she slurs. “Ready for those drinks?”
Harry recoils from the stench of alcohol on her breath when she leans toward him. “I think you have already had plenty.”
She rolls her eyes and waves over the bartender, ordering a cocktail. “You’re not my father. Besides, I was pregaming.”
“Why?”
“To get over my nerves, duh,” she says by way of explanation.
Harry isn’t drunk enough for this shit. “Nerves? Over drinks and conversation? What’s there to be nervous about?”
Taking a large gulp of her drink, she hums and holds up her finger. “I was hoping to take you home after. I need to get off, so I figured this would be an easy way to do it. The last guy I tried to hook up with got angry and pushed me out of the room naked.”
The idea of fucking this girl isn’t appealing in the slightest, and Harry declines the offer. “I didn’t sign up for that. I can offer you conversation if you would like, but I think drinks are out of the question tonight.”
“No sex then?” the girl pouts.
“No sex,” Harry confirms.
“I’m going to just go then,” she says hopping off the barstool and wobbling for a second before she finally regains her balance on her red stiletto heels.
“Next time, try being honest in your request. You might find what you are looking for a lot easier.” Harry stands and throws some cash onto the bar to cover their drinks, signals the bartender so that he knows the money is there, and walks out, leaving the girl weaving next to the stool as she tries to remain upright.
~~*~~
Three days later, Harry is sitting at an outdoor café for brunch waiting for yet another fix. As usual, he’s early, so he orders a tea while he looks over the menu. The girl slides into the seat across from him two minutes early, pleasantly surprising Harry. What do you know? There are actually people that have respect for someone’s time. Harry greets her with an easy smile. “Hi.”
