High Noon [H.S]

boos and booze

I was not a morning person; the fact was clearly well known to everyone and anyone around me. Most of my mornings were spent hiding from the brightness of the sun under my duvet and covers or, if I didn't have a choice in the matter of getting to sleep in, were spent miserably unhappy.

Not today, though. Today, I'm actually happy to be up and sitting in Crème de la Crème at nearly ten in the morning. I'm actually happy to be in the nearly empty shop with Harry, books both clasped in our hands, coffees both laid out on the circular table in front of us, and bodies both comfortably sat on the plush couch.

I can't describe the feeling surrounding us as anything but content and blissful and I can't help but think that if every morning were to start like this from here on out, maybe mornings wouldn't be so bad after all.

"You need a refill?" Harry asks.

I look up from the pages in my hand to see Harry's eyes staring in question at me over the height of his own book. They're even brighter today, the green of his thick hoodie making the colour as prominent as ever.

"If you don't mind."

His lips pull into a knowing smile; I don't know why he even bothers asking. I watch as he saunters over to the middle-aged woman behind the till, handing her the porcelain mug for what will probably be the first of many refills this morning.

"He has a great ass," Jay remarks, tearing my gaze away.

I'd almost forgotten he was here being so caught up in my own little world of my novel. He'd asked to come along when Harry had shown up at my flat this morning, unbeknownst to the idea that Jay had slept over the night before. Harry had of course said yes, though I silently pleaded for Jay to change his mind. He was never really good at taking hints.

"Jay," I warn as soon as I see Harry making his way back over.

"What?" He stares innocently from the beanbag opposite me. "I'm just stating facts."

Harry places the mug on the table and I hum out a thanks in response. "You need anything Jay?"

"I'm good, thanks," he states, eyes glued to his laptop in front of him. I'm surprised he doesn't even react at Harry saying his name. "Been way too preoccupied with my work to even start my coffee."

Harry clears his throat before settling back on the couch beside me, but closer this time. Close enough that the sleeve of his sweater brushes against my arm every time he shifts. "What are you working on?"

"Have to prepare an original monologue for my theatre midterm next week. Spare me." Jay rolls his eyes dramatically. "I feel like everyone else is done except for me."

"At least you have Zayn's Halloween party to look forward to... or shall I say Zayn's Boos and Booze Bash," Harry emphasizes with quotation marks; the titles just seemed to get worse every party.

I shake my head at the ridiculous name. "Horrible."

"You're right. Halloween is a holiday that was literally made for me," Jay boasts through the clicks of his keyboard. "I've already got my costume all sorted. Gonna be Elvira— plastic titties and all."

"Rory and I are going as Cher and Bono," Harry replies, eyeing me already to gage my reaction.

I snort, coffee I'd just taken a sip of almost spilling out of my nose. "Absolutely not."

"Aw, come on. I really wanted to be Cher."

"Don't let me stop you. I'm sure you look great in a wig."