Our Love Was Made For Movie Screens

All I want is

Harry hugs his coat tight, pulling at the open ends and cursing himself for leaving the apartment so abruptly because it's stupid is what it is, if not creepy, what he's doing.

There's a zero chance the guy would be there in the cafe today. But he also needed to try, he couldn't not when he's spent the entire night tossing and turning thinking about him. It's nothing, the guy didn't even talk to him, just smiled a really small smile when Harry apologised for bumping into him because ofcourse he did and now that Harry thinks of it, he feels more stupid.

He checks his phone, 6:15 pm, great the same time. He enters the small cafe, the bell jingles and the warmth practically draws him in. He looks around, eyes searching all the tables but the guy's not here, ofcourse he isn't. He searches the tables again, maybe he missed someone, but no avail, the guy's not here. Harry can't help the frown that falls on his lips, somewhere inside he did hope they'd meet again but they clearly won't and Harry needs to stop, he does.

He needs to stop chasing after people, looking around at strangers, seeking warmth in those cold lust filled eyes. He wants it so bad, the locking of eyes and for once not looking away awkwardly after a few seconds, instead finding an intense emotion that holds you in place ; makes you stop and want to figure it out ; makes you want to strip your insides bare ,the feeling of being wanted, of being held on, of being loved,
he needs to stop before he ends up hurting himself, again.

So he turns to head back but he's reminded of the cold outside, also the coffee smells delicious, so he decides to get himself a coffee. He walks to the counter, there's a guy behind it, messing around with the coffee machine.

Harry clears his throat, "Excuse me, a coffee please, no sugar and almond milk."

The guy turns around and nods at him, quick as anything and Harry's knees give away. This is him, his guy. Harry wants to cry, overwhelmed with nervousness and the relief of finally seeing him again. This is him and he's here. He's beautiful, unrealistically beautiful. Harry's pretty sure he saw his skin glistening under the golden lights of the cafe in the two seconds the guy looked back at him.

He watches the guy work, his eyes sweeping over the guy's dark hair (he has beautiful hair) and his mind whirling around with the things he should say and all the things he really shouldn't say while his heart thumps pathetically in its cavity. It's not until his gaze lands on the guy's neck that his thoughts come to a halt. He has a tattoo at the base of his neck, Harry notices, where his hair curls beautifully. Harry's hit with how badly he wants to lick at the patch of skin, his hands almost sweating at the thought.

The guy turns around and brings his order to the counter, staring at him. Harry's mouth goes dry under his stare so he lets his eyes roam over the guy's body. He's wearing a white t-shirt hanging low on the neck and holy shit he has tattoos on his collarbone, something like a pair of wings. He's wearing a simple blue apron over it and has a collection of tattoos on both his arms, fuck. Harry needs to concentrate, he needs to say something before the guy takes him for a creep and thankfully there's a badge, 'Zayn' it says.

"Hey, Zayn." Harry smiles finally, eyes travelling up his neck to meet the guy's. This is Harry's best smile, he's practised it in front of a mirror a million times now, the one that gets the grumbling people on the street smile too but Zayn doesn't smile back, just stares at him and nods. It's not scary, the look on Zayn's face, but it isn't very friendly either.

"Um, okay," Harry panics, taken aback, "how much do I owe you?"

Zayn slides the menu with the price list and points to his order. Harry nods, feeling a little lost and gets his wallet out, handing Zayn the money. Zayn messes with the drawer, arranging the notes in his hand and collecting the change he owes Harry and while he's at it, a strand of his hair falls forward on his forehead, Harry practically lets out a breath at that. It's like the universe agrees with him, Zayn was too beautiful in the moment, too beautiful to take in and Harry needed a reminder that Zayn was afterall a human, that he had a few flaws too.