Part Two:
Day Three:
Harry slipped into Starbucks, eyes darting around, hoping to avoid the irritating man who’d bothered him for two days running. Relief washed over him when he didn’t spot the pest.
He approached the counter, ordering his usual. “Venti non-fat vanilla latte.”
A tap on his shoulder made him whirl around, a snarl forming on his lips. “I told you to leave me alone!”
“Well, now that I know a beautiful man like you exists, how can I stay away?” Louis stepped closer, blocking Harry’s path. “So… are you ready to tell me your name?”
“No.” Harry crossed his arms, refusing to yield. “And I never will.”
“‘Never’ is a strong word…” Louis’s hand rested briefly on Harry’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’ll get you to tell me, one way or another.”
Harry laughed, a sharp, disbelieving sound. “And how are you going to do that?”
“Non-fat vanilla latte!” Louis mimicked, as if Harry’s drink was a confession.
“None of your business.” Harry snatched his latte from the counter, turning to leave.
Louis followed, undeterred. “Come on! Just one drink…”
“What did I say about touching me? God, you’re annoying.” Harry wrenched his arm free, heading for the exit.
Louis persisted. “Come on!”
Harry paused, locking eyes with Louis. “I said… no.”
Louis grinned, a flash of white teeth. “You have the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen, curly.”
“Yeah… I already know they’re beautiful.” Harry scoffed. “I don’t need some little Peter Pan to tell me that.”
“Damn, you’re feisty!” Louis’s voice was a low murmur, lips tracing a line. “I like it.”
“Ugh, you’re gross!” Harry stomped away, ignoring Louis’s pursuit. “And stop following me!”
“So no drink then?!” Louis yelled as Harry disappeared onto the street.
--
Day Four:
Harry almost skipped his Starbucks run today, but the need for caffeine outweighed his desire to avoid the persistent Louis. He decided to go earlier, hoping to beat the man to the punch.
He hurried to the counter, ordering with clipped urgency. “Venti non-fat vanilla latte! And make it quick, I’m in a rush!”
He swiped his card, glancing over his shoulder to ensure Louis hadn’t materialized. “So far so good…” he muttered, settling into a chair.
He scrolled through his phone, waiting for his order.
“Wow… nice phone you got there.”
Harry sighed, looking up. “Surprised to see me this early?” Louis casually settled beside him. “I figured I should try drinking coffee earlier to help me sleep better.”
“Does it look like I give a shit?” Harry snapped, returning to his phone. “Why can’t you just leave me alone?”
“Whoa, calm down, curly.” Louis’s voice was soft, but firm.
Harry glared. “Don’t call me curly.”
“Well, since I don’t know your real name, I’ll just have to call you curly.” Louis chuckled, leaning forward, his gaze unwavering.
“How about you just leave me alone and don’t call me anything?” Harry flashed a fake smile, returning to his phone.
“Gosh, you’re such a little bitch.” Louis exhaled, staring intently. “But you sure are pretty.”
“Don’t call me a bitch.” Harry scoffed. “But yeah, I already know I’m pretty.”
“Do you think *I’m* pretty?” Louis batted his eyelashes, testing the waters.
“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not really interested in giving compliments, Peter Pan.”
“My name’s Louis.” He huffed. “Not Peter Pan.”
“Well, my name’s Harry, not curly.” Harry paused, realizing he’d given in. He covered his face with his hands. “Oh God.”
Louis laughed, a genuine, infectious sound. “See! I knew I could trick you into telling me your name!”
“Just shut up, alright?” Harry sighed. “Fine. You win.”
“So Harry… what do you do for a living?”
Harry ignored him, eyes fixed on the counter. “Where is my drink?”
“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” Louis chimed in.
“I don’t need your opinion.” Harry stood up, walking toward the counter. “Excuse me, where’s my drink?”
“What did you order, sir?”
“A Venti non-fat vanilla latte, like I always do! This isn’t brain surgery! You’re just making coffee…” Harry paused, catching his breath. “How could it possibly take ten years to make one simple coffee!”
“We’re sorry, sir, we’ll have it right out for you.” The barista said, flustered.
“I should be getting free coffee for a year for what I’ve been through today! And another thing—”
Suddenly, arms wrapped around his waist, a whisper in his ear. “Shhh… calm down, curly.”
Harry whirled around, enraged. “Don’t touch me!”
“Stop being a bitch then. I think someone needs to set you straight.” Louis groaned.
“Excuse me?!?” Harry yelled. “Don’t you dare speak to me like that! Someone needs to set *you* straight!”
“Non-fat vanilla latte…”
Harry grabbed his drink, slamming it onto the counter.
“Don’t you dare try to follow me, Peter Pan! I swear to God, I’ll pour hot coffee all over your stupid little head!” He stormed out of the coffee shop.
Louis didn’t follow this time.