checkout (l.s)[Boyxboy]

five

Harry was afraid of many things.

He was afraid of being late, so he always turned up ten minutes early for things. He feared bumping into people when he walks because of his clumsy clown feet. He feared making others upset because it makes him think he's a bad person (this also makes him sort of a pushover). But if there was something he wasn't afraid of, funnily enough, it was the way he dressed.

It wasn't anything to be ashamed of. Harry just really liked clothes. He had piles of them, really. He loved scarves, boots, rings - the whole lot. Why should he care about what other people think? The way he dresses is his business only, anyone else's opinion is invalid to him quite frankly.

Well, that's not completely true. He does actually care about one person's opinion.

That's why Harry turned up to work the next day smelling like a field of roses. He borrowed one of Gemma's perfumes because he was all out of cologne. His shirt was tucked into his trousers as appose to usually when his shirt tails are flying free. He even managed to tame his hair and tie half of it up in a small ponytail.

Today he really wanted to impress Louis.

They had been texting in the morning and Louis mentioned how he was feeling a little bit sick so he was planning on staying in bed the whole day (which made Harry almost not want to go to work). In the end, Harry managed to covince Louis to walk to Tesco's and buy some Paracetamol.

And for those 5 minutes they shared at check-out, Harry was determined to look and smell good.

"...and I didn't have enough time to stop and buy any milk because my idiot of a husband didn't bother to message me. Not even a little 'hey honey we're out of milk'? Pathetic!"

Harry looked up at the woman who was violently packing her items and smiled sympathetically. She had bags under her eyes and looked like she had permanent frown lines.

"Hey, I'm sorry about that. Maybe next time he will remember." Harry pressed a couple of buttons in and totalled up her purchases. "Anywho, that will be £21.54, please."

"Pfft, I bet he won't." She stopped suddenly to look Harry in the eye. He would have felt uncomfortable if she stared any longer, but she finally spoke. "Do you have a girlfriend?"

"What?" Harry blinked. Was she coming onto him?

"Oh, no. No, don't take it in that way. But... do you know what it's like? To care for someone so much but they mess up? Like, all the time?"

Harry swore in that moment that it was fate. Because in that moment, his eyes landed on Louis. He was standing in the medicine aisle, half asleep. His eyelashes were cast down and his hands were barely visible passed his large sweatshirt sleeves. He blindly looked up and down the shelves until he smiled softly, probably spotting what he wanted. Harry noticed that there were also two comic books in his hand and he was wearing socks. With sandals.

Harry smiled. He smiled at the 20 year old boy who had a terrible sense of fashion and a sleepy smile that made him look all cuddly and stuff.

"No, I don't." Harry looked back up at the woman. "Wish I did, though."

"What? But why?"

"Because you get to love someone unconditionally no matter how much they screw up," Harry shrugged. "I like the idea of being loved and to be in love. Makes me happy."

The woman didn't say much after that. She paid for her items and offered him a warm smile before departing. Harry felt his palms start to sweat the closer Louis got to checking out on his aisle.