Signs of Light (l.s.)

Prologue

March

It had been nearly a year since Louis had started frequenting Violet Hill, a small, quirky coffee shop in Camden Town, London.

The shop was tucked into a row of other businesses in an old brick building on 83 Parkway; snuggled between Ava's Salon and Georgia, the flower shop that Louis works at.  The cafe had a large window facing the street, with a sitting counter and bar stools set against it. Two, small, two-seater tables lined the wall across from the espresso bar, the shop not big enough to hold much more seating than that.

Louis tried his hardest to snag a seat when he visited Violet Hill, in hopes of having a quick sit with his cup of tea before heading next door to his own job...but mostly in hopes that the curly haired barista was working, and that he can catch a glance of the boy with shining eyes and cheeky dimples.

Louis had worked at Georgia for almost a year, and until a few months ago, he would pop in to Violet Hill five days a week to grab a quick cup of tea before dipping right out again. Three months ago, Louis noticed a new boy behind the espresso counter. The boy was taller than Louis and dressed very well, in a pair of black trousers and a bright coloured button down shirt. The colour of the boys shirt has changed every day, from a bright teal, to a warm orange, to a soft lavender, to an array of neon tropical looking flowers... this one was Louis' favourite. The boy had a very young face; chin length, curly, brown hair, dazzling green eyes, and a curious dimple that embedded his cheek every time he smiled.

Louis had learned that the barista's name was Harry, that he was almost always smiling, and that he wore that floral shirt every Friday; Louis liked to think he wore it just for him.

Louis had made it a point for the last three months to leave his flat a little earlier, so he had around twenty minutes to sit and drink his tea and admire Harry before heading to work. Every morning, for the first month of Harry's employment, Louis would arrive at Violet Hill at 8:10, order a Yorkshire tea with a splash of cream, and grab a seat at the window bar to watch as the town began to wake up and people started to mill around the streets on their way to work. He would casually peak over his shoulder at the curly haired barista, enamoured with his bubbly laugh and coffee stained hands. Then he would start towards the door, flash a quick smile at Harry, who always seemed to be looking at him right as he was heading out, and then make his way next door for his shift that started at 8:35.

In the last two months, however, Louis' routine had changed a bit. Not much, but definitely in a good way. Louis would still arrive at Violet Hill at 8:10, Tuesday-Saturday, but Harry would already have his tea ready for him. With just a splash of cream, in Harry's favourite tea cup; baby blue ceramic with a small golden anchor in the bottom of the cup below the tea. Louis would still take his tea to the window bar, but he would openly flash smiles at Harry over his shoulder every few minutes before heading next door to work.

Louis had decided by the end of the first month that Harry was someone who could make him smile, no matter what mood he was in upon entering the shop. He had learned that Harry loved thoughtful conversation, piano music, and white peonies; and that he drank a cup of black coffee at the beginning and end of each of his shifts. Louis had also learned, with Harry's back to him as he grabbed a tea bag, that calling his name had little to no affect unless Harry could see him. Harry had explained to Louis that day that he had been slowly losing his hearing since he was thirteen, that he wore hearing aids, and that from what he could hear, he loved the sound of Louis' voice the most of the many he hears throughout the day.