sometimes, the curse glitches. harry knows the glitch has been activated when he wakes up at a time other than 8:08. these are the days he lives for. everything has re-set. louis' number isn't in his phone because he doesn't know harry. the day holds no meaning to louis - or anyone - because it's just another normal day.
these are the days harry lives for. it means he can speak to louis as if he's meeting him for the first time. he can bump into him on the street when louis is leaving the little cafe on fourth ave and strike up a conversation. he can get louis' phone number, agree to meet later at the club.
he can bring louis home, and let him do whatever he wants to him. he can feel louis above him, beneath him, all around him. he can hear louis gasp out his name and he can fall asleep with louis in his arms if they make it back to his before midnight, which they usually do.
(louis doesn't go to clubs to dance the night away - he goes to hook up.)
harry wakes up this particular august 28 at around seven thirty. he feels refreshed for some reason, as if he went to bed at a decent hour. he knows this is false, but still - it gives him a shred of hope for the day ahead.
he takes his time showering and getting dressed. he doesn't have to be on fourth ave until 10:27. he pushes his curls back with some hair gel and picks out louis' favorite outfit on him: a grey and black plaid topman button up shirt over a white t-shirt, black skinny jeans, and his worn out boots that louis bought him as a birthday gift the previous year.
harry looks at himself in the mirror and decides he looks decent enough. he grabs his wallet and keys before exiting his small, one bedroom, 2.5 bath, eat-in-kitchen apartment with a small loft area toward the back.
today the sun seems a little brighter. the sky appears a little more blue. flowers smell more fresh, and the wind is a bit less windy. harry knows it's all in his head, because this day is the same every day, but he lets himself imagine today as a better, different one. it's nice and he likes it.
he likes that he gets to see louis. he gets to talk to him, kiss him, feel him, touch him. he can breathe in his scent and listen to his voice. he can stare into his eyes which don't look like anyone else's eyes. they're pale and simple, yet they hold the universe in the irises.
harry drops by the little bookstore on fifth on his way to the coffee shop. he picks up a collection of poems by emily dickinson, which he knows will grab louis' attention at the coffee shop.
"you don't look like a poetic kind of guy," niall, the kid who works at the bookshop, says with a smirk. "trying to impress someone?"
harry smiles fondly at the counter as he removes his wallet from his back pocket.
"maybe," he hands niall the money. "or maybe i just enjoy reading poetry from time to time."
"maybe," niall smiles back, handing harry the book and his change. "good luck, mate. hope you get some tonight."
"thanks," harry smiles back, exiting the shop. he stands outside the doors for a few moments, breathing in the smell of the flowers niall stacked up in front of the windows some time ago to ward off the scents of the city; gas from cars, smelly hobos, and too much body spray on men trying to impress their woman bosses. harry looks down at his watch.
10:23
book in hand, harry walks the extra block to the coffee pot. louis is walking from the opposite direction, this he knows, and he speeds up so that he reaches the coffee shop at 10:25, giving him just enough time to place his order, sit down, and act like he's been there for hours.
"one caramel macchiato, medium, and a blueberry muffin, please," harry says to the guy behind the counter with a smile on his face. the kid - liam - smiles and nods his head, putting everything into the register. before he can tell harry how much his order will be, harry is handing him the notes. "keep the change."
"thanks," liam smiles, handing him the receipt. "it'll be ready in a moment. what's the name for the order?"
"harry," harry smiles.
"for here or to go?"
"here."
liam nods his head and harry walks to the seat by the window, facing the door. this way, he knows louis will have a clear shot at the cover of the book. harry opens up to louis' favorite poem, and waits.
at exactly 10:27, louis skips into the door. his hair is a mess, like usual, and he's got a light dusting of stubble on his chin. he's wearing the outfit he always is; white vans t-shirt, skinny jeans that don't go past his ankles, and black vans.
he looks so fucking cute. it takes every ounce of self control that harry owns to not scream "louis!" and grab him. because he really wants to. god, he wants to so bad.
"harry!" liam calls out harry's name for his order. louis, being the curious little shit that he is, looks around the shop to find out who this harry person is. when he sees harry - all long hair, legs, and just delicious - his eyes widen a little. when he sees the book harry sets down on the counter, he swoons.
yes.
"coming," harry smiles and stands, walking up to the counter. he leaves the book facedown on the table, which he knows louis hates people doing. louis chews on his bottom lip and dances lightly from foot to foot in agitation as he watches harry step up to the counter and take his food.
harry smiles warmly at him before walking back to his seat.
"what would you like?" liam asks louis.
"a hot cinnamon dolce latte," louis looks at harry from the corner of his eye. harry dips his finger into his coffee cup, annoying louis further. he hates when people do that. "and a chocolate croissant."
"sure thing," liam punches everything into the cash register and louis hands him the money. "is that for here or to go?"
"here," louis answers.
"name?"
"louis."
"it'll be ready in just a minute," liam tells louis. louis nods, watching with pursed lips as harry takes the top of the muffin between his thumb and forefinger, ripping off a little piece. louis bites back a whimper and walks over to him.
"what are you-" louis stops when harry looks up at him. he can't just go around yelling at strangers - attractive strangers, mind you - because they eat weird and abuse books.
"what am i what?" harry asks, popping the piece of muffin into his mouth.
"what are you reading," louis asks, standing up a little straighter. he clears his throat awkwardly, earning a soft chuckle from harry.
"a collection of poetry by emily dickinson," harry looks down at the book and back up at louis. "are you familiar with her work?"
louis scoffs, sitting down in the chair across from harry.
(harry's always loved that about louis - how straight forward he is. he doesn't mind just sitting down and striking up a conversation with anyone. in fact, he does it most every where louis and harry go - well, went.)
"of course," louis crosses his arms on the table top. "i'm not an uncultured oaf. what's your favorite poem?"
harry smiles, reciting louis' favorite word for word.
"i hide myself within my flower,
that wearing on your breast,
you, unsuspecting, wear me too —
i hid myself within my flower,
that fading from your vase,
you, unsuspecting,
feel for me
almost a loneliness."
louis stares at harry, his eyes wide open and mouth agape. this beautiful creature just spoke to his soul. he reached into his very center and pulled from his lips feelings he'd never felt before.
"louis!" liam calls. "louis!"
"you, uh, might want to get your food," harry says with a soft smile. "he's been calling your name for the last two minutes."
[ the next chapter will contain smut. if you don't want to read it, wait until chapter four. ]
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replay » larry stylinson
Fanfictionthe one in which a boy tries over and over to fix the biggest mistake of his life but messes up just a few more times.
