"Small black coffee, please," Harry ordered politely, reaching into his back pocket for his wallet.

"That'll be $2.50," the barista spouted off quickly as he pulled a small cup from the top of a stack and spun around to fill it from the machine behind him.

Once Harry's fingers reached the bottom of his pocket, he realized his wallet wasn't there. Patting his front pockets, he remembered accidentally tucking it somewhere in his holdall after the security check.

"Shit, sorry..." he mumbled under his breath, moving his hands to fumble with the zipper on his bag. Harry started to panic noticing a line forming behind him.

When the barista returned to the register, his raised eyebrows showed a slight annoyance, clearly ready to move along to the next customer. The tapping of his fingers against the counter made Harry that much more frazzled.

And as if the entire situation couldn't get anymore awkward, when he stepped to the side and let his bag drop to the ground he heard a small, shaky voice over his shoulder.

"Harry?"

He glanced behind him to see a young girl standing wide eyed and bright red with excitement.

"Oh my god, it is you! I'm such a huge fan. You've always been my favorite, even on the X-Factor!" she rambled with excitement.

She continued as Harry crouched down and dug into the depths of his bag, glancing up at her after every few words as he searched for his wallet.

The security guard noticed the scene and made his way toward them. But once Harry rose from the ground, finally with his wallet in hand, he shook his head with a smile.

"It's okay," he motioned at him before turning back to the girl. "It's nice to meet you, um, if you could just give me a sec—"

"Oh can we please take a photo?" She bellowed as she moved next to him and held her phone out in the air to take a selfie.

Before Harry could object, the shutter had clicked - once, twice and then three times. By the third photo he managed to lift his hand with a thumbs up.

"Thank you so much!" She sang, squeezing him in a hug and then rushing off, face still as red as the moment she approached him. Her enthusiasm seemed to draw the eyes of a few more people who curiously moved in his direction.

With a heavy sigh, Harry threw his bag over his shoulder and turned back toward the register.

"Sorry 'bout that, mate," Harry apologized, now with his wallet and ready to pay.

"It's taken care of," the barista brushed him off quickly and returned to his job, completely unphased.

"Sorry?" Harry leaned forward to catch the man's attention, misunderstanding what he meant.

"Oh. That nice lady got yours, brother," the barista pointed toward the end of the bar where the milk and sugar sat.

Harry's eyes grew wide with confusion when he turned to see the person standing to his left.

Her head was tilted down, light brown hair resting just above her shoulders with one swoop tucked behind her ear, as she poured only a splash of milk into her coffee and mixed it with a wooden stirring stick.

Feeling Harry's eyes on her, she glanced up only for a millisecond as if she didn't want any sort of attention for her random act of kindness.

Harry stood dumbfounded, embarrassment tinting his cheeks slightly pink. Lifting the cup from the counter, he took two steps in her direction. "Um, sorry you had to—-" he mumbled, his heavy tongue causing him to trip over his words.

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