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Harry sighed as he walked to the bar, chain smoking as he stared at the snow that littered the ground under his boots. His birthday was a few days away and he was trying to tie up all lose ends.
He couldn't leave without saying goodbye to Tim and even Louis because he knew that the smaller man was on his shift at this moment.
He paused in front of the door, stretching his mouth so he could practice smiling before entering with a fake smirk on his lips.
"Harry!" Tim shouted as he hurried towards him, "Bud, are you alright? Have you been getting my pay checks?"
"Yeah, thanks." He replied, pulling him into a hug where his arms went around the mans shoulders. He held on tightly, savoring the squeeze he felt at his waist and the hum against the side of his neck.
"Alright, Harry let go," he chuckled when the man was holding on for too long. "You're hugging me like you're gonna die or something."
"Sorry," he breathed, stepping back and his eyes going around the room to pause at Louis who was chatting with a tall blonde in the back where the pool tables were.
Tim followed his gaze and immediately said, "Thats just Luke. He works here. He's a kangaroo like Michael, remember him?"
Harry nodded, his crimson orbs still focused on the blonde to see he had a lip ring and high hair. He looks like a fucking breadstick, he thought, smiling at himself.
"Come sit," Tim hummed, patting the stool beside him. "This will always be your seat, you know,"
Harry grimaced at that, swallowing the lump in his throat as he nodded. He could feel his eyes watering once again for the hundredth time. He shook his head and leaned over the bar, reaching for a glass and shyly looking at his wrist to see that the bruises have healed.
It was strange how those wounds didn't heal immediately meanwhile all the others did. It was almost like fate was bragging in his face the results of him being an asshole.
"Shit," Harry cursed when he realized he would have to stand and walk around the counter to get a bottle.
"Just call Luke. Thats what we use him for." Tim chuckled, calling the blonde who sighed and walked over to them with an expectant look. "Get Harry the Bourbon."
"He's literally right there," his Australian accent snapped under his breath as he rounded the bar and grabbed the bottle, handing it to the curly haired man before walking across the bar back to Louis who was trying his best not to look towards Harry. He could tell something was off.
"He keeps fucking calling me because of my legs, i swear." Luke breathed, grabbing his pool stick before leaning down and positioning the end on the white ball.
"Its kind of funny." Louis giggled, resting his cheek against the stick as he glanced towards the two at the bar. "Does he look off to you? The guy with the curly hair?"
