Fluffy Clouds [ One Shots ]

White Sweater || Larry

Title: White Sweater

Pairing: Larry Stylinson

Word Count: 1803

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It was a cool, autumn afternoon in Holmes Chapel. The trees were painted with different shades of orange, red, and yellow. The sky was a beautiful blue, with few clouds littering the sky. There was a nice breeze, that had everyone wearing light jackets, but it was the perfect weather for this time of year.

Many people were walking around Main Street, chatting with friends, or simply doing some window shopping. And on the corner of Main Street, there was a quaint cafe, called Baker's Dozen. They served delicious, homemade pastries, and their hot chocolate was creamy and could warm even the coldest man.

That's why Harry Styles was sat outside of the cafe, with a steaming cup of hot chocolate, and a warm blueberry muffin. He came to this certain place every Friday, because he could barely last a week without visiting his old friends and getting a delicious snack.

The curly-haired lad used to work at Baker's Dozen, a few years ago, but he quit when he had inherited money from his parents. Yes, sadly Anne and Des Styles had passed away in a plane crash, leaving Harry and his sister Gemma to fend for themselves. The siblings were both over 18, so they had moved out to their own houses, but they remained close.

Harry took a sip of his cup, before placing it down on the wooden table in front of him. The scenery from where he sat was beautiful. The flowers in front of the cafe were bright and blooming, and the street was lively. It almost brought Harry back to the good old days, when he still knew who he was.

You see, Harry used to be an awkward young lad. He was loud, crazy at times, and he was always smiling. But when his parents passed, he felt his personality slipping away through his fingertips, like sand. He wasn't necessarily unhappy, but he was no longer the cheerful boy that he used to be.

Now, Harry Edward Styles was a bad boy. Not bad as in breaking the law and beating people up, but he preferred to stay closed off, giving off a bad boy vibe. Soon, he had fallen under the label as Holmes Chapel's bad boy. So Harry thought, if he was going to be known as the bad boy, why not look the part too.

This particular autumn day, Harry was wearing a grey t-shirt, and a black leather jacket. He also wore a pair of skinny jeans that accented his long, lean legs. His curly hair was pushed back into a messy quiff. He looked like a typical bad boy, but inside, there was a little boy trying to get out.

Harry sighed, before finishing off his muffin. Since he barely had any friends, he had a lot of time on his own, which meant a lot of time for him to think. Sometimes, he wondered what it would be like to have his best friend back, or even be in a relationship. Other times, he thought about more darker thoughts, like how it was his fault his parents had died.

It couldn't have been Harry's fault. How could he have caused a plane crash? But his parents were flying from London to come visit him, when one of the engines failed. And Harry never let himself live it down.

"Hey mate, having a rough day?"

Harry's head snapped up when he heard the thick Irish accent from behind him.

"I've been better Niall," Harry admitted, pulling out a seat at the table he was sitting at.

Niall worked at Baker's Dozen. He and Harry used to be really close, best friends even, until the day of the plane crash. Ever since then, Harry had always pushed Niall away, trying to hide his emotions and stay strong, even though he was breaking on the inside.