Yellow.

eight.

"First aid box here," Louis mumbles and rolls his eyes, already losing interest in the comic club that has barely taken off.

With a ton of issues ranging from court meetings, lawyer sessions, community service and more on his plate, the last thing on his list is getting to know an Autistic man and befriending him. He hates to be perceived as unfriendly, but he is uncomfortable in making friends, especially right now with his sentence slowly wrapping up. All he wants is just to be able to start life all over again, get a new job and find a little piece of happiness left in the world. He squats next to the curled up form and releases a breath, uninterested but a bit concerned.

"I don't think he wants anyone to touch him though," Iman asks in a worried tone and lowers her head down to Harry's level.

A little mishap with a razor blade and a sudden gush of blood. Harry did not want to alert anyone or panic his two new friends because he is still trying to be comfortable around them, and he does not want to freak them out. The pain became unbearable and he slowly curled up into a ball on the rugged floor of their booked room. Not wanting to be the centre of attention, Harry let out a small groan and showed his not so deep cut to Iman who ended up telling Louis to get the first aid kit.

"Okay Harry, please sit up," she gently urges, not sure whether to touch him or not.

He slowly sits up and gently blinks, carefully avoiding eye contact with her and Louis. His hair is slightly messed up from pressing it to the ground, and his cheeks are flushed from him attempting to hide the pain. It hurts. Iman smiles encouraging him and Harry attempts at a small smile but he does not understand why he should smile, especially since he is in slight discomfort. Louis yawns a bit and scratches the side of his neck before opening the petite sized first aid box. He studies the content and sniffs a bit before looking up to Iman.

"Ahh great...," Louis pipes, smiling. "Actual plasters made with animations, today is your day Harry,"

"H-how please?" Harry asks, his voice is slightly cracked from fatigue.

"Sarcasm is my specialty, we should work on that with your condition," the smaller framed man advices with a genuine smile and hands the roll of cotton wool over to Iman.

"Iman...Iman, tell Louis to stop...stop talking too uh not clear please, like confusing a bit for H-Harry," pleads a heavy headed Harry and Iman quickly nods in understanding.

Louis gently raises his hands in surrender, widening his eyes and rolling in his lips, not wanting to let off the remaining words hanging on the tips of his lips. A smile creeps on Iman's face as she watches him stand up and adjust the usual beanie hanging down the middle of his head. He gets out a packet of cigarette and as well as a lighter from one of his pockets. Harry gently gasps and widens his eyes a bit at the sight. This is like a scene with Zayn all over again; where he repeats the dangers of smoking like a mantra and makes sure he feels exhausted at the end of his non stop speech. Zayn never listens and just nods along till the repeated words come to a halt.

"Louis...Louis!" Harry groans out with an offended frown and clears his throat, not caring whether Louis cares or not. He has a point to pass through to him and he has to say it.

Louis sighs a bit and turns to face him with a small frown. "Harry, Harry!"

"Yes...yes name is Harry. Eh...Louis yeah...yeah no smoking please? Yes...yes no smoking for your system Louis, okay? okay?" Harry fumbles with his words and drops his eyes to his fingers- his twitching fingers.

"Why should I stop please?" Louis asks with a mocking smile and cocks up an eyebrow.

"Eh stop...stop because advert on television says it...it blackens your lungs m-mate, yeah they say so and...and it is true because Harry learns...learns a lot and smoking is not good, like not good," he nervously speaks and gives a small smile.