[ONGOING]
Sinning is a binary act; a man sins or he doesn't. Similarly, Louis was in Harry's bed or he wasn't. Harry cannot sin "only a little bit".
or
Harry is old money and new in town, Louis is the golden boy whose family owns a diner, and the su...
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By the time Harry reaches the soccer field, it's packed with people bustling around everywhere. The smell of greasy hotdogs and cotton candy hangs in the air around him, making him wrinkle his nose and hold his breath a bit.
The game is due at 7 pm, and it's 6:48 pm when Harry checks his watch. Harry didn't really want to be here, doesn't have much knowledge about football, but he'd promised Mrs. Tomlinson. She'd visited him yesterday, with a warm smile on her face and a pie in her hands. Something about her presence had calmed Harry down, too, and he didn't feel as awkward as he usually does around new people.
Mrs. Tomlinson, or Jay, as she'd insited Harry call her, had been extremely kind and welcoming, a homey atmosphere around her. She had herself gotten comfortable with addressing Harry as 'son', which Harry found he didn't really mind at all.
Something about her motherly smile and gentle blue eyes had made Harry trust her entirely.
She'd asked Harry about his shift, at the same time respecting his privacy and not asking too many questions, lest he become uncomfortable.
Jay, in turn, told Harry about the diner she and her husband, Mark, owned; which was apparently very sought after in the town; and that the pie she'd brought with her was one of their specialities. The pie was delicious. She invited Harry to visit the diner sometime, only when he was free, ofcourse.
She had also told Harry about the football match due the next day, among young boys, mentioning that her son was playing, too.
Harry's mind promptly wandered to the memory of the boy he'd seen on the sidewalk weeks ago, and how that one glance which lasted mere seconds, still held an unknown impact on him.
Harry figured Jay had been kind enough to make the efforts to make him feel at ease, so he agreed to both the offers, to visit her diner and the football match.
And that's where Harry was right now, walking towards the stands whilst dodging the children running around with cups filled with Coke and melting icecreams clutched between their little fingers.
Harry walked a bit timidly towards the stands already packed with people, his boot clad feet stepping clumsily in the mud. He wasn't a fan of crowds, how ironic considering that most of his early twenties was spent amongst roaring and laughing crowds, only.
Reaching the stands, he looks around for an empty seat, and finds Jay smiling and waving at him. Relieved, Harry moves towards her. Harry takes in the red jersey she's wearing, as is almost everyone else here; clearly supporting one of the teams. He notices the man standing by her side a second later.
"Alright, son?" The man asks, holding his hand out for Harry with a benign smile. Harry takes it and gives it a firm shake. "My missus here tells me she's met the most well mannered young man. Is that right?"
