Heartbreak Prince by shyinsunlight

Chapter 1

"Here's the key. Rent is due on the 15th of every month," the woman said, leaving before Harry could open his mouth.

He pulled his coat tighter and looked around. It was the cheapest flat he could find in the city, and the place matched its price. The stains on the once-white walls complemented the stains on the worn carpet, the fridge was buzzing and he could hear the cars on the busy street below. A Kensington dustbin seemed more homely.
He sighed. Living alone again was not going to be easy.

It was a bit chilly, and he remembered the landlord mentioning how the convector was a bit tricky. Harry was going to figure that out, but for now, he put on a warmer sweater. Before sitting down in front of the TV and turning on some stupid show, he grabbed a bottle of cider he'd bought earlier.

Soon, his head dropped, nodding gently as slumber took hold. Cedric's face floated into his mind again. Harry groaned uneasily in his sleep and rubbed his temples, but the picture refused to leave, and he was stuck with Cedric in his dreams again. Such a fine art he was, so painfully sweet.
The most difficult part was that he couldn't place blame on either himself or Cedric; it was nobody's fault. It hit hard when their bond began to fade, Cedric consumed by his work, busy establishing his own practice, while Harry stayed at home, engrossed in his drawings and lost in drinks and thoughts, residing in a different world.

On a late November afternoon, Cedric gathered up his courage to say the words out loud that'd been lingering between them, and they hugged and cried and kissed, and Harry lied to Cedric. He lied when he said that he understood, that he thought it was the right thing to do, and that he didn't think there was a future for them. It hurt like nothing before and a new emotion rose from Harry's torn heart: he hated Cedric for giving up on them so easily.

Change was needed, unarguably, and Cedric wasn't going anywhere. Harry had to act, so he did the only thing that seemed sensible: packed up and rented a flat in London.

Soon, he got a job at a coffee shop. He learned to make latte art quickly, the staff was nice and they got along well. Ginny, the manager, let him take as many shifts as possible, as it became clear quite quickly that Harry was short on money. The early shifts always seemed to be available, and Ginny was very pleased when he volunteered to fill them in, as the opening ones were always a pain.
He didn't mind, quiet mornings distracted him from his thoughts even if it meant cleaning the coffee machines or organising the stocks.

After another sleepless night, an overtired Harry welcomed his first early shift. He put on some music before opening, and with a mop in hand, he moved across the floor, a dreamy smile on his face, swaying to the rhythm. He twirled and spun, water droplets splashing around, and he decided to sing out loud, his lilting voice echoing in the space, his mind not wasting a single thought on people not worthy of it.

Harry's feet tapped rhythmically and the mop seemed to have a life of its own, gliding in harmony with his carefree moves. As the song reached its climax, he closed his eyes and raised the mop above his head, concluding the grand finale.

The moment was gone and the world turned back to dull grey, but his chest still heaved up and down as he put away the cleaning supplies, humming the song. He turned to the glass entrance door, just to see a tall man standing out there, waiting, looking at him with narrowed eyes and a raised eyebrow. Did he see the whole performance? Harry's cheeks turned into the colour of rich red wine and embarrassed as he was, he let the customer in.

"G—Good m—morning," he stuttered, and the man watched him rattling with the key. When he opened the door he realised how cold it was outside, but it didn't seem to bother the man.

He was tall and devilishly handsome. He had such poise and pride radiating from him, it made Harry want to take a step back— a pity that the small space behind the counter did not allow it.