"Can I borrow this? I can't find my jacket."
Louis glanced up from his phone, seeing his friend hold up the wrinkled plum colored hoodie, that he had discarded on top of his navy hang-a-round chair earlier that week. Out of everything else Harry could find, the hoodie was the only thing that smelled reusable.
"I don't care, but it's not even cold out. Why do you need a hoodie?" the blue eyed lad asked.
"It might be chilly at the place."
Louis sighed, as he returned his eyes back to his phone. Little Harry. Adorable, shy, naive, little Harry. He was like a small kitten; someone who you'd never get mad at, nor make you yell. And it was really annoying to Louis at times.
Louis didn't want Harry to turn out like him or his friends, by any means, but he just wished he would build more of a backbone. He had dealt with tears, emotional outbursts, and petty arguments more times with Harry than he had with his own girlfriend. Something about that seemed very unhealthy.
But in a way, Louis understood it. Harry was confused. He knew the way he acted wasn't normal for a boy. Or what society had said was normal for a teenager to act. He didn't like to party, he didn't like making sexual comments about girls, he wasn't even sure if he found girls sexually attractive, and he didn't hold in his emotions either. He spilled out his heart and his feelings every chance he got.
Louis couldn't imagine how hard it must be for his friend, no matter how many times Harry tried to explain. He couldn't imagine what it was like to be teased everyday for being different. What it was like to go to bed every night, with his nightlight on, and wonder why he wasn't like the guys he goes to school with. Harry was frustrated; with both himself and the world.
"So, are they coming to pick us up or-" Harry wondered, as he slipped the hoodie over his head. Though Louis was a tad smaller, he was much more muscular than Harry, which was why the sweatshirt hung loosely around the curly haired boy.
"I think they'll just meet us there; they're pretty hungover from last night. We can leave as soon as my mum gets home," Louis explained, his eyes still glued to his phone, as he lay comfortably on his bed. His feet were propped up, making Harry practically cringe over the site of Louis's black plimsolls being on top of the comforter.
"Oh," Harry responded, as he sat on chair, moving aside the crumpled up clothing placed on it. God bless Louis's mother; no wonder they get into a lot of fights.
While Louis spent the beginning of his birthday ditching school with Eleanor and then having Harry spend the night, his friends threw a small party over at Tommy Napolitano's house, a junior who was dating Louis's sophomore sister, to celebrate. But since the birthday boy wasn't attending, and they all knew that, it was just an excuse for them to drink.
Louis loved to go out, any opportunity he had to party, he would take. The only problem was, Harry hated it. He hated the large crowds, the blaring music, and the teenagers that seemed to get more rude and more stupid when intoxicated. Usually Harry would stay home whenever Louis decided to go out and allow him to spend the night, if he was too drunk to go home. Louis would've wanted nothing more than to go out and enjoy his eighteenth birthday, but he already promised Harry he would spend the evening with him; and it actually made him feel bad to blow Harry off.
It wasn't long until they heard the opening of the front door, along with the sounds of the Louis's two dogs barking, that the teenage boys emerged from the bedroom and began walking downstairs.
"Where are you two heading?" Louis's mum asked, taking off her shoes by the door. She had complained to Louis multiple how much she hated dirt on her carpet, and Louis, being how he was, took her words through one ear and out the other. Harry, on the other hand, was just beginning to put on his red converse.
"I told you I had an appointment," Louis said, grabbing his keys off the rack.
Johannah's brows furrowed, taking her a second to figure it out, which caused eyes widen in horror. Turning to her son's friend, who had just finished putting on his shoes, she sighed. "Please don't let him get anything stupid."
"I won't," Harry promised, with a shy chuckle, causing Louis to roll his eyes.
"Alright, we have to leave now. Harry's bag is here, so he's just gonna spend the night again."
The way Louis spoke to his mum made Harry pout, feeling a sting of disrespect. "Is that okay with you, Mrs. Deakin?"
Louis's mum smiled, giving Harry a hug. "Honey, stop calling me Mrs. Deakin. You can come over whenever you want." Releasing the boy from her hold, she turned back to her son. "You need to stop hanging out with those other kids and spend more time with Harry. He's a better influence-"
"Love you too, mum," Louis interrupted, before opening the door and practically dragging Harry out.
"Fuck, I hate it when she does that," Louis complained, as they walked down the steps over to his black boxster.
"What?" Harry asked, trailing behind his friend. For a shorter lad, he walked fast.
"When she talks shit about Calvin and them. Like they're bad people."
"Yeah," Harry responded, as Louis unlocked the car door. Though he completely agreed with Louis's mum, he wouldn't dare say it. He didn't want to start a fight and have Louis mad at him.
The drive to the tattoo parlor wasn't as long as either boy expected, maybe forty minutes or so, plus the traffic and Harry yelling at Louis to stop checking his phone, and actually keep his eyes on the road. Not to mention, he kept turning on Harry's seat warmer as joke every five minutes.
Finally, pulling the car up to the sidewalk lined with a row of shops, right in the middle, a more modern styled one made up of bricks greeted them, with a giant black banter above it. In white cursive writing, the words, "Stained: Tattoos and Piercings" stood written. Each one of the words made Harry shudder; tattoos, piercings, and stained.
Just as the two boys were exiting the car, another pair of teenagers were getting out of a blue colored volt.
"It's your fucking appointment, how are we here before you?" Calvin asked, as both Oli and Louis locked their cars.
"Fucking blame Tommy for that shit," Louis argued, letting his hands rest in his pockets. "Lots came home, drunk off her arse, last night and got grounded. I wasn't allowed to leave, til' Mum's shift ended, 'cause she's not allowed to be home alone."
"Shit man, really?" Calvin laughed, raising his brows. "Dude, you should've been there."
"Shame I missed it," Louis muttered, bitterness filling his voice, as the group began walking inside of the building. Harry bit his lip, falling behind the group. His heart was pounding heavily, feeling like it was going to shatter. He felt bad for making Louis miss out on a party; his party. All because Harry was being selfish and wanted to spend the night with him.
Not wanting to cause a scene, and get tormented by the group, Harry pulled out his phone, typing to Louis; 'Are you mad at me? :'(' Peering over one of the boy's shoulder, he saw Louis look down at his phone, unable to see a reaction on his face, due to his back facing him. Though moments later, Harry received the alert, informing that he had gotten a text from Louis.
'no harry i'm not mad,' Louis typed.
"Are you sure?" Harry asked.
'positive.'
Harry nodded to himself, as Louis began to fill out paperwork. Though he denied it, Harry still had that stupid sick feeling in gut, clawing at him.
"He is mad at you," the voice in his head told him. "You're so selfish. Louis has other friends beside you and you follow him around like a dog. He probably secretly hates you and only keeps you around, because he feels sorry for you."
Harry breathed in deeply, feeling his anxiety rise. He wanted to ball into a corner and start crying. He went to therapy for his anxiety, it didn't work. He tried medication for his anxiety, it didn't work. He tried self-care, it didn't work. Everything he tried never worked. This stupid feeling of worthlessness would pop unexpectedly and just drag him down. The only thing he could do at this moment, was take deep breaths, while slowly saying to himself, "nobody can drag me down, I have control over myself. Nobody can drag me down, I have control of myself. Nobody can drag me-"
"You good, Haz?"
Harry looked back up to see Louis staring at him, with a mixture of worry and amusement. The other two lads seemed to be more preoccupied with their phones. Swallowing a lump, he nodded with a smile.
"Well, they said for us to wait in the other room for the guy," Louis explained. With another nod, Harry followed the rest of the group to another room behind a black door.
The room was painted a bright red, with a wooden floor underneath. A large mirror, coating an entire wall, stood behind a black leather chair meant for the customer. A backless wheeled chair, along with equipment stood beside it, and three metal chairs sat in a corner. Each boy took a seat; Louis in the leather chair, and the three boys in the metal ones, Harry sat himself in the one closest to the corner. As soon as they were seated, each teen, beside Harry, decided to scroll on their phones, while he looked up, admiring the artwork of the different tattoo designs hung around the room.
Harry could never imagine himself with tattoos, mainly because he was terrified of needles, but if he was ever convinced hard enough, maybe he and Louis could get matching ones. Maybe he could get an anchor or a rose-
"Fairy, what's with the hoodie?"
"Hm?" Harry hummed, looking over at Calvin, who stopped looking at his phone. "Oh, it's Louis's. I thought it would be cold in here."
"It's feminine."
"It's Louis's!"
"Yeah, but Louis doesn't look like a twink in it," Calvin explained, as if he was stating the obvious.
Harry wanted to pull his hair out. He was wearing Louis's hoodie, for crying out loud. He honestly couldn't win with anyone. No matter what he said. No matter what he did. Harry was going to get teased.
"Cal, back off," Louis ordered, not even bothering to look up from his own phone. He knew how much of a prick his friend could be, especially to Harry, but unlike most people, Louis didn't really put an end to Calvin's bullying like he did to others. Louis would be direct, threatening, and beyond terrifying to other students, but Calvin was different. Louis would make a joke, or just tell Calvin to stop and rarely Calvin ever would. He not only bullied Harry, because everyone else did; he bullied Harry, because he could get away with it.
"I'm being honest," Calvin continued, turning his attention back to Harry. "You're wearing an oversized pink sweatshirt and you wonder why we call you fairy."
"I'm not a fairy!" Harry exclaimed, tears wanting to come out of his eyes, as he voice began to crack.
Calvin was about to respond, when the black door opened, having all the teens turn their heads.
The artist walked in, head down, but not in a shy way, more so in a dark, secluded way. He was wearing black jeans, matching boots, and a white shirt, with his sleeves rolled up, showing off the multiple tattoos coating his skin. His silver hair was clearly dyed, due to his blacken roots and strong stubble covering his jawline, but it suited him. It gave him a rough look. Sexy.
"You getting the tattoo?" his deep voice asked, as he stared at the feather haired boy sitting in the leather chair.
"Yeah, I'm Louis," the blue eyed boy introduced himself, as he extended out his hand, letting the man shake it.
"What's up, man? I'm Zayn."