Pretty boy // l.s

1

(what Louis looks like ^)

Sunday

Harry sighed heavily and filled the brown paper bag with the two crusty wholemeal buns forcibly smiling at Carol who came in with her blind dog every week. Harry hated working Sundays, not just that it was a Sunday ( and that he hated working) but he attempted to avoid Carol - the merry little shit - who liked everyone to know her opinion on everything and have them agree with it.

Most Sundays Harry would hand Carol over to Peter, his coworker who was straighter than a ruler. (He'd already tried hitting on him— it was no use) or he would pull a 'need to stock the shelves out back' and hide there until her annoyingly shrilly voice distanced off down Cheshire road.

But today, Peter was off sick. Most likely not sick but instead, intensely hungover from his girlfriend's birthday party. How? I hear you ask. How does Harry know about Peter? Ah you see, Peter drunk dialled Harry last night calling him to present Harry with the news that he'd lost his virginity and he was worried he came too early. Harry re thought over their conversation and cringed at the poignant memory of Peter wailing about his dick being too small.

Carol thanked Harry and batted her eyelashes, looking more like she was having a seizure than trying to be flirty considering her old age.

"Oh harry," she whispered

"Yah?" He didn't even look at her, just rammed the ten pound note and coins into the cash machine, hoping she'd fuck off.

"You're not gay are you?" She tutted and leant up against the counter, her purple cotton jumper draping on the glass, leaving the gross smell of B.O and old people. You know exactly what I mean.

Harry bit his cheek to hold back outing himself. He smiled humourlessly and stared at Carol directly into her eyes, purposely trying to be intimidating.

"No Carol, you've asked me before." He rolled his eyes when she re- announced her hatred for gays, banging on about some LGBT supportive poster outside the bakery' door.

"Good Good, see you next Sunday little boy!" She went to ruffle his hair, Harry turned abruptly to the left to avoid her fat, greasy fingers in his luscious locks. She smiled and waddled her way out of the bakery. Harry let out a sigh of relief and went on with wiping the counter surface, hoping to god no one else as closely annoying to Carol came in today. Otherwise he might just lose it and throw bread or some shit.

As if by unlucky chance, Harry's eyes darted outside to see Katy, a girl in the year below and two of her friends, dawdle by the entrance. Harry knew exactly what was going to happen and knew exactly how this was going to go down. He continued his surface cleaning and glanced up now and again to see the two girls pep talk Katy, or so that's what it looked like...

After several minutes of hesitation, Katy came in, fiddling with her fingers. He knew Katy, she'd been trying to get his number for ages, even going as far to ask his best mate Zayn.

It wasn't that he didn't want to date a younger girl, it was just that she was a female—with a Vagina. It was the reason Harry was working, Harry was in Sixth Form but cared less for his A level grades than himself. He skipped school to work mostly because he needed the money to move out from home as soon as possible. Get away, start his life. and he was working to find someone to love, he was 17 and still single for god-sakes! He'd had an abundance of girls offer up themselves for dating, but he didn't like girls, sucky.