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The first thing I notice when I walk into the little cafe are his eyes.

We aren't facing each other, not even close. I'm still standing at the see-through door, tightly gripping onto the burnt-red brick wall next to it, desperately trying not to draw attention to myself despite how run-down and tired I must look. Driving blindly for hours straight till gas runs out and then walking until you simply can't anymore thoroughly exhuasts a person, apparently.

Whoever he is, I don't even notice their colour, at first. That's not what catches my attention. Rather, it's the way he looks at people. I've learnt to gauge what a person's emotions might be when I look at them. It's a skill that helped me just barely over the past years. He's talking to an old woman holding a brown bag tightly to her chest and I can't see her face but she has to be smiling. Anyone would smile if they were being gazed at like that.

I haven't seen someone look at someone else like that in all the years I spent with my... Ugh. And it's so close to what I imagine a loving look is. So close to my silly past hallucinations about how someone would gaze at me if they genuinely cared about what I said and thought and felt that I find myself struggling to turn away like anyone else normally would to avoid awkwardness. I just stand and stare, shocked to my core when he slips past the counter to help her when her bag drops, only to suddenly lock eyes with me.

He lets out a squeak and drops the bag. It's the most adorable thing I've ever seen until my brows furrow, a thought slipping in past the mental block I've kept my mind locked down under the past twelve hours. I must have scared him with how homeless I look, I quietly realise and I rip my eyes away, hearing him mutter a soft "oops" to himself. Women are so lucky. All the prettiest ones are straight.

I don't notice I've spaced out, wondering what the name of his lucky girlfriend is until I hear him speak to the old woman.

"I'm sorry but Tina, he's gay," he says cheekily with a bright grin to smooth over the teasing rejection, handing the chuckling old woman her bag. I struggle to hold in a laugh, then my body completely freezes because he's walking straight towards me. I look at pretty much anything else, knowing I can't avoid this when he blinks directly at me.

"Hi."

"Hi...?" He muses in response, tilting his head to the side. I know I'm fidgeting. I can feel my fingers brush against each other and, willing myself to stop, I force my eyes up to hold eye contact like a regular human. But his gaze has been steadily on me the whole time and I force my head down again, clearing my throat.

"Sorry. I just..."

"No, it's okay. I'm sorry. Don't mean to make you uncomfortable or anything, it's just that if you're going to buy something, I think you should probably step inside a bit more?" I nod slowly, unsure of what else to say and he gives a soft chuckle which I can't help but flinch at, taking a step back at my reaction. Control yourself, Louis, everything's fine goddammit! His brows push together in a way that honestly shouldn't be attractive for something so mundane and he moves to speak, putting on a smile instead as he nods his head towards a table.

The place isn't fully packed but there's a good number of people at the little glossy, round, roasted coffee bean tables. The stools are midnight-dark and a large sign, "17 Black", is glued to the window with a deer on it. He notices my eyes on the logo and smiles a little more, brushing his long, pretty hair behind his ear.

"That's the sign here. Been that way a long time. My co-worker complains it's too weird a name but the boss gets what he wants, I suppose. I'll introduce you to them. You're new in town, right? I can't think of any customers mentioning someone coming in..."

He scratches at his head, looking up at the ceiling while I gawk at the way his throat arches. Fuck. I've worked hard to suppress any attraction to any other men while with my ex, terrified it was cheating and would upset him. My mind fades away into thoughts of him. We were so happy, once. It takes me a moment to feel my tears back in reality. Harry's eyes are wide with worry. I force a smile.

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