Out in the Cold (Zianourry) ON HOLD

One

Harry Styles walks down the street, looking for an easy target to get some money from. So far he's made about $15 from a woman who felt extremely bad for him. Just one more person and I'll call it quits for tonight, Harry thinks to himself, looking up at the now dark sky. He guesses it to be around 10 pm. 

He shivers and puts his hands in his pockets, hunching his body over a bit. It's already pretty cold out as it is, but Harry only has a thin long sleeve, which he stole from a man a few weeks ago, therefore his skin has pretty much no protection from the chilly air and feels like ice. 

Five minutes later he's on the edge of just giving up for the night, when he rounds a corner and bumps into a caramel-haired boy, who lets out an 'oops!' 

"Watch it." Harry growls out, narrowing his eyes at the guy, before going to walk around him and the three other guys who are with him. 

A hand clasps onto his wrist though, making him tense up. He turns his head slowly to see the guy who bumped into him holding it. "Let go of my wrist." He grits out through his teeth. 

"Sorry," The boy says, releasing his wrist quickly and holding his hands up in defense. "I just wanted to apologize for bumping into you." 

"Apology accepted," Harry says simply, turning around to walk off. He's stopped again though, hearing a 'wait!', but it isn't the voice of the caramel-haired boy. This voice has an Irish accent to it. 

He turns around to face the boys again, crossing his arms over his chest and raising his eyebrows at them. Don't get him wrong, all four of the boys are attractive. Extremely attractive. But Harry knows he isn't, what with his long, greasy, tangled-up hair, and his dirty clothes, so there's no point in even thinking about trying to impress them when he knows he won't. Besides, the boys may be attractive, and they may even seem nice so far, but nobody ever stays nice for long. Not if you don't give them what they want, Harry thinks bitterly. He's had more than enough experience in that department. 

"What's your name?" The only blond boy asks, his Irish accent thick, slurring his speech and making it slightly difficult for Harry to understand him. 

"Why should I tell you?" Harry bites back. 

"I'm Niall," The boy tells him, seeming unfazed by the bitterness of Harry's tone. 

The caramel-haired boy speaks up then. "I'm Louis." 

The black haired boy who's wearing a leather jacket says, "Zayn." 

The last boy, brown haired, says. "And I'm Liam." 

Harry's eyebrows flit upwards again, staring at the four boys in front of him for a minute. He sighs, realizing it won't hurt anything to tell them his name. "Harry. Just Harry. Call me Harold and I'll personally slit your throats." 

Despite the threat, all four of them grin, their eyes lighting up. Harry stands there awkwardly, waiting for them to say something, knowing is he walks away they'll just call him back. Liam frowns after a minute, eyes scanning Harry's body. "If you don't mind me asking, love, where's your jacket? It's a bit too cold out here for just a thin long sleeve." 

"I'm fine." Harry shrugs, not answering the actual question. Liam's face shows he notices the deflection of the question, his frown deepening, but he doesn't push it, not wanting to anger the curly haired boy. 

"Why are you out here this late anyways?" Louis asks, digging his hands into his hoodie pocket. 

"Why are you guys?" Harry shoots back, not missing a beat, his hip jutting out. 

"Fair enough." Louis replies, nodding his head. "We're actually headed back home now." 

"Oh," Harry answers, not knowing what to say. 

"Oh?" Niall parrots, a teasing tone to his voice, a smile on his face. "Doesn't sound like a very good reason to me." 

Harry rolls his eyes at the blond, but a small smile tugs at his lips despite himself. "I'm heading back home too." It's not exactly a lie. Harry is heading back home, just his home happens to be an alley outside of an old clothing shop that burned down years ago and no one ever goes to anymore. 

"We'll walk with you, make sure you get home safely." Liam says, gesturing for Harry to lead the way. 

Harry, however, shakes his head. "No way in hell." 

"Why not?" Zayn asks, frowning. The other three have similar expressions on their faces. 

"Because I don't know you guys." Harry shrugs. Once again, true but not fully true. It's true that he doesn't know them, but even if they tried anything he could take them. It wouldn't be the first time he has had too. But he doesn't want them to know he lives in an alley. Either they'd be disgusted or they would pity  him, or both. And Harry doesn't want either of those things happening. 

"Alright," Liam sighs, nodding his head. "I understand. How about we save our numbers in your phone and when you get home you text one of us to let us know you made it safely, yeah?" 

"Why do you guys even care?" 

Louis frowns. "You seem pretty decent and we'd love to get to know you. You having our numbers will be a good way for that. Please?" 

"Fine. Write them down on my arm though, I accidentally left my phone at my house when I was leaving because I was in a hurry." Harry lies straight through his teeth. 

The four boys seem to buy it though, Liam producing a pen from one of his pockets, and each of them take turns writing their numbers down on his arm. 

"Don't forget to let us know you made it home safe, okay?" Liam demands, staring at Harry sternly. 

Harry rolls his eyes, mock saluting him. Then he waves and turns on his heel. 

"Wait!" Liam yells before he gets too far, making him groan and throw his head back. 

"What the bloody hell could you possibly want now?" Harry exclaims, exasperated, not turning back to face them. Something warm is wrapped around his shoulders, making him turn in confusion, only to take a step back when he sees how close Liam is. Liam smells really good though and it almost makes Harry step back up to him just to get another whiff. He looks down at the object wrapped around his shoulders, noticing it's the coat Liam was just wearing. Harry discretely takes a small sniff, and the scent of Liam fills his nostrils, a mix of honey and pine. Weird combination, but it works. 

"I can't take your jacket." Harry protests, moving to grab a hold of the jacket. Liam quickly grabs a hold of Harry's hands, stopping him. 

Harry tenses slightly, but doesn't make a move away from the boy. "Yes, you can. Your long sleeve is in no way warm enough for this kind of weather. Besides if you take that, it gives us a reason to come see you again tomorrow." Liam tells him, a smile so big on his face, his eyes are almost hidden. Over Liam's shoulder, Harry can see matching smiles on the other boys' faces. Harry rolls his eyes for what feels like the hundredth time tonight, but smiles as well, his dimples popping out. He turns and begins walking, hears Louis gasp out, 'he has dimples?' and lets out a laugh, still walking. 

When he makes it back to his alley, he leans back against the wall and slowly slides to the ground. He's actually kind of sad that he's never going to see them again. They were actually kind to him. 

Okay so I previously had this story up, but I had kind of lost where I was going with it so I unpublished it until I could figure it all out again and I finally have :D 
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