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Harry's POV: Chapter 2

The alarm clock next to his bed beeps, only for a moment, before Harry rolls over and slams his hand down on it. He stares at the brightly lit screen reading 8:00 am.

Harry groans softly and slowly drags himself out of bed, not wanting to leave the warm confines of his sheets. He stumbles out into the hallway and into the kitchen to make breakfast.

I need coffee. Harry silently makes a plan to stop at Anna's Café before heading to his lectures.

As he passes, he peeks into Niall's room, only to find it dark and empty. He probably had an early lecture. Harry thinks. I'll text him later. Harry grabs two pieces of bread out of the fridge and pops them into the toaster.

As he waits for his breakfast, he wanders into the living room, opening the front door and looking out. Their house is built on a busier suburban street. The sidewalk is lined with trees and there is always someone, if not more than one person, out for a run or walking their dog.

Harry feels as the breeze ruffles the leaves, pushing through his curls. "Maybe I'll walk today." He muses to himself as he heads back into the kitchen.

He pulls the bread out of the toaster and covers both pieces in jam before eating them quickly. He trudges over to the bathroom, brushing his teeth, before heading back to his room.

He dresses comfortably, a pair of loose blue jeans and a black sweater and pulls on a pair of black trainers by the door. He runs a hand through his unruly chin-length curls in a final attempt to tame them, before opening the door and braving the world.

It's cool outside, the breeze making it chilly but still pleasant for walking. The walk to the café is only 5 minutes or so, and it quickly comes into view. The bell rings softly against the top of the door as Harry enters.

There isn't a line, so Harry strolls right up to the counter. The woman behind the counter looks up, and a smile breaks out on her face. "Good morning, Harry. Your usual?" She asks as he smiles back.

"Yeah, thanks Anna." Harry says, grabbing his wallet and pulling out £5. He takes a step back as he watches Anna move around behind the counter, preparing his coffee.

She's a woman in her early 50's. She'd opened this coffee shop as a gift for her daughter, but had loved it so much she'd started running it herself. Harry first met her when he and Niall first moved here.

Back home, Harry had a favorite coffee shop, The Black Drop, and had been desperate to find a replacement. He'd stumbled upon this café and Anna had welcomed him with open arms, telling him everything he needed to know about the neighborhood. Also, she makes amazing coffee, and she always remembers Harry's order.

Behind him, the bell on the door rings softly again, and Harry notices as conversation around him ceases a little. He's about to turn and look at whoever it was that just walked in when Anna calls out his order.

Conversation resumes, so Harry doesn't think much of it. He takes the foam coffee cup and hands Anna the £5, before turning around and running straight into a slightly shorter man.

The top is suddenly off the cup, and his coffee is all over the man's shirt. Just for a moment, both of them are frozen, staring down at the man's now brown shirt.

Then, his eyes slowly rise to meet Harry's, his expression furious. Once their eyes meet though, the man's face softens.

"I'm so so sorry! I'll pay to have that cleaned!" Harry says, speaking a little too loudly and stumbling over his words. Embarrassment courses through him and he can feel as a blush rises up his neck and stains his cheeks. The man just grins a little at him.

"Don't worry about it." He says, leaning around Harry to grab a few napkins from the dispenser on the counter. He dabs them gently against his shirt, attempting to soak up any coffee, but it seemed to have already sunken into the shirt.

"No, really. God, that was so stupid of me. I'm usually not this clumsy. I can really pay to have that cleaned." The man just smiles, causing butterflies to flutter around in Harry's stomach. He stops his words in their tracks. Whoever this man is, he has a gorgeous smile.

"Really, it's alright, I said don't worry about it." The man says, dabbing absentmindedly at his shirt with the napkins as he stares at Harry. "What's your name?" He asks, and Harry is startled by the question.

"H-Harry." He stumbles over his own name and the blush deepens on his cheeks. He clears his throat and tries again. "Harry Styles." The man sticks out his hand between them, and Harry meets it halfway.

"Harry, I'm Louis. Louis Tomlinson." Louis. Harry let his eyes rake over Louis as he shook his hand. He's shorter, maybe 3 or 4 inches shorter than Harry is. He had brown hair that looked well-kempt, styled into a quiff, but seemed to be knocked askew due to their collision.

All of this led Harry right to his eyes. God his eyes. Harry thought, staring at them. They're a light blue, not far from the color of the sky today. Or the sea. It's almost like Harry can see the perfect waves rippling inside that ring of color.

Shit, I'm staring. Harry realizes.

"Nice to meet you, Louis." Harry says this slowly, doing his best to not stumble over his words. Usually he never has a problem with speaking slowly, but Harry seems to have no control over his reactions around this man.

He's very nervous. And his hand is still holding Louis'. They both pull away at the same time and Louis clears his throat.

"Do you live around here?" He asks, tossing the napkins into a nearby trash can, having given up on getting the coffee out of his shirt. "I haven't seen you here before."

"Yeah I live a few streets down." Harry says, motioning awkwardly in the direction of his house. "I'm a first year student at Queen Mary University, so I've only been here a little while." Harry stares into Louis' eyes, immediately falling back into them.

Harry pulls down the sleeves of his sweater so that they cover his hands and he drops his eyes to the floor. Embarrassment swims in his stomach. Louis, on the other hand, looks intrigued.

"First year student? So you're, what, 18?" Harry nods and Louis looks surprised, raising his eyebrows. "Wow, I would have pegged you as older than that." Louis says and Harry blushes.

Jeez, Harry, get a grip on yourself. "What about you?" Harry mostly asks this incredibly vague question to stop himself from falling back into staring at Louis' eyes, though it doesn't work.

"Well, I'm 21," Louis starts. "And, I run a finance firm a few streets down from here." Harry must look surprised because Louis lets out a soft laugh. "What?" He asks, and Harry falls into his contagious laughter.

"21 and already running a company? Impressive." Louis just nods, chuckling. "So, what are you studying?" He asks, and Harry blanks for a moment, unable to answer.

"C-Criminal Law." Harry stutters a bit, and Louis chuckles at his nervousness. Louis smiles at Harry as his hands settle into his pockets, giving him an air of confidence and self-arrogance that was strangely intriguing.

Harry glances at the time, and realizes that he has only 10 minutes left to get to his lecture. "I have to go." Harry says, and Louis raises an eyebrow. "I have a lecture in 10 minutes, but I'll see you around?"

The question comes out without Harry even realizing it, but Louis just smirks at him. "Yes you will, darling." Louis says, winking at Harry as he steps up to the counter.

Harry hurries out of the shop so that Louis can't see the deep red stain that flushes his cheeks at the nickname.