Louis wouldn't call them best friends, but they had gotten progressively closer over the course of a month. They still hadn't really "hung out" anywhere besides the bakery or the thrift store. When they were at the thrift shop, they talked about school. Harry was majoring in painting, minoring in English and corrected Louis' grammar more often than not. If it were anyone else, Louis would punch them. But it was Harry, so he didn't mind.
Louis told him about his opinion on college and how he thought it was extremely annoying and stereotypical for people to think they have to go to college just because "that's what everyone does". ("Well, growing up, you never hear people say 'Oh, what are you going to do after high school? No college, right?' so everyone just feels obligated to. That's stupid." He would say.) Though Harry was in college, he would just listen with his eyebrows furrowed and ask questions like if he ever wanted to go to college or if his family did.
Louis would explain how he hated that everyone assumed they had to get a degree to reach their dreams because that's what everyone was raised to know. (Because of course, everyone goes to college and those who don't must obviously end up failing miserably and you never hear about them again, right?)
When they were at the coffee shop, Harry talked about all the different kinds of cakes and pies and breads there were. He would tell him which were his favorites and how they differed in texture or taste or smell or how they were cooked. ("Who is honestly going to be able to tell if you whip the batter or just hand mix it?" "Are you kidding me?! Believe me, it makes a world of a difference.")
Harry would take orders and make coffee or tea while talking to Louis from the kitchen as he worked.
"Have you ever noticed that we've never hung out anywhere besides where we work?" Harry asked one day while he was trying on random shirts at the thrift shop. Louis was laying on the counter reading a book like he usually did when the store was deserted.
"Yeah, I have. Is that weird of us?"
"I don't know, guys hang out at each other's houses or apartments right?" Louis paused. He didn't hang out with guys, he "hung out" with guys. He hadn't actually hung out with a guy besides Liam or Niall since high school, which obviously wasn't something to be proud of, but it was part of who he was and he couldn't erase it from his past.
"Uh, I don't really get to the hanging out part with a lot of guys..." He said as Harry was coming out of the fitting room holding his shirt. Louis tried not to stare at the two swallow tattoos inked onto his collarbones.
"Oh Lou, I'm so sorry." He replied, concerned frown etched onto his pretty little face.
"That's alright, it's my fault really. Haven't exactly been looking for someone to settle down with. And you don't really meet many guys you'd want to be 'friends' with at the bar." Louis replied with a sad smile on his face, slowly sitting up on the counter and setting his book in his lap.
"I'm your friend." Harry said, pulling his shirt over his head. Louis liked that about Harry; he was an insanely friendly person even if you were an asshole to him. It could probably get him in a lot of trouble if he let too many people walk all over him, but he did it anyway.
It was getting to be mid-afternoon and Louis' shift would be over soon. He began gathering his things together and setting them next to him on the counter in a pile.
"Do you actually want to hang out with me?" Louis asked nervously, hopping off the counter. He took the fedora from Harry's hand and rang him up for it. (Seriously, who buys hats from a thrift shop? Louis can't remember ever seeing him in something that he might've actually bought from a real store.)
