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Does Anyone Miss My Secondhand Smoke?

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Harry wakes up and stretches his hands over his head, sitting up and looking out of his window as the sun is just beginning to rise. He lets a small smile spread across his face as he climbs out of bed and into the bathroom. He splashes water on his pallor face and checks the mirror, adjusting his unruly chocolate curls.

Harry Edward Styles is a morning person, which is just one of the things that makes him almost impossibly perfect. He also flosses and makes his bed every morning. Harry's just genuinely a really nice guy with dimples and few flaws.

He got a job at a bakery in down town New York, Susie's, and he absolutely loves it. Sure he's surrounded by a bunch of elderly women all day, but he doesn't mind. He loves basking in their praise and doing the things they've grown too old to. If Harry's not in the back hauling huge sacks of flour over his broad shoulders, he's out front using his charm and slow British twang to lure in costumers.

It's 7am when Harry starts his brief walk from his apartment to Susie's bake shop. He smiles at the business women walking down the streets of NYC with their high heels and coffee cups, and drops a coin to the homeless man who's always sat on the corner.

He tucks his hands into the pockets of his black peacoat, and keeps walking. He smiles cheerily and nods to the the group of artists that are smoking outside of the tattoo shop that's right next to the bakery. He looks at all of them with amazement. He admires the artwork that runs up and down their arms and the piercings that litter their bodies.

One guy in particular catches Harry's eyes. He has dark brown hair that's pushed back, which is a brilliant contrast to the stranger's bright blue eyes. He's wearing a leather jacket so it's impossible to tell if he has sleeves, but there's curls of black cursive letters poking out from the collar of his white tshirt. Harry's eyes flick to his face and he notices a silver hoop nose ring. He trails his eyes down and notices the lad is fairly short, and curvaceous. Harry thinks he's quite fit, to be honest.

He must be starring because the short lad clears his throat. "Good Morning bro," he yells out, his voice a slight mixture between high pitched and raspy. "You new to Susie's?" He breathes out smoke through his mouth quickly and Harry nods and blushes. "Yeah. I uh- my name's Harry."

The lad stands up and walks over to Harry, holding his hand out. "Louis Tomlinson, I do tattoos." Harry looks down at Louis and wow his eyes are amazing- there's a hint of green in there. They shake hands and Harry awkwardly looks down at his boots, not feeling as confident and outgoing as usual. "Nice to meet you. I like your friend's tattoos."

"Yeah, Zayn's got a sick half sleeve you'll have to see some time. You got any tattoos yourself, curly?" Louis asks, eyeing Harry up and down. Definitely not the tattoo type, but none the less.

"Me? No way. I mean uh- I love them, like yours look great and all. It's just a big thing, like, they're permanent. Yeah?" Harry drawls out with his slow, deep voice. He sort of chuckles nervously when he sees Louis looking at him with a weird face.

Louis laughs and claps his small hand on Harry's shoulder. "Yeah, they are very permanent things. You're a funny kid, I'll see you around?" Harry nods quickly and waves to Louis and his friends and turns to walk into work.



Harry's daydreaming all morning about Louis and his nose ring and blue eyes and fluffy hair. He's so out if it, Barbra decided to stick him in the back and take inventory. That eventually got boring so Harry finds himself hanging out in the shop, rearranging the donuts and sneaking snicker doodles when no ones looking.

Harry's about to stuff another cookie into his mouth when the door chimes and he turns around to see Louis walking into the bakery. Harry puts the cookie back on the shelf and rushes to the break room, dusting off his apron and desperately trying to fix his hair in the reflection of a metal mixing bowl.

He walks back out and sees Louis squatting down in front of the donut display. (Wow he has a nice ass.) He casually pretends to count the cupcakes when he hears Louis.

"Excuse me?" Harry looks up and smiles. "Oh Louis! Hi, can I help you with something?"

Louis smiles back, and he may or may not be blushing because Harry's stupid dimples and innocence. "Yeah actually, I just want one of these." Louis says, standing up and pointing to a glazed donut.

"Really? Just a plain glazed donut?" Harry questions, propping his head on his hand. Louis raises his eye brow and crosses his arms.

"Well what do you suggest then, Harry?" Harry puts his gloves on and pulls a chocolate strawberry donut for the shelf.

"Try this." Harry bags the donut extra carefully with no protest from Louis and rings it up. "2.59, sir." Louis hands him 3 dollars and tells him to keep the change.

Louis walks into the tattoo shop and sits down. It was a slow day, and he was hungry. He didn't just want to get a better look at Harry, no matter what Zayn says.

"Chocolate covered strawberries. Of course." Louis laughs to himself as he takes a bite of the sweetness that reminds him of Harry. Zayn walks into the room and shakes his head.

"Stay down Tommo." He says wagging his finger at the man sitting down.

Louis huffs and takes another bite. "I don't know what you're talking about ."

"I'm talking about that curly haired kid that you had heart eyes for this morning." Zayn says, flopping down beside Louis.

"What? I can't be nice without wanting to fuck someone?" Louis defends himself.

"Actually, no. And he's too... Too pure, I can tell." Zayn says, giving Louis a serious look. "He's probably still a virgin."

Louis nearly chokes on a strawberry hunk. "No way! It's not like I'm trying to get into his pants, but Zayn, he's really, REALLY fit. He's been deflowered."

Zayn shrugs. "Just stay away from him, you're not good for that boy." Louis feels hurt because "What's that supposed to mean?"

Zayn stands up. "That kid is nice and squeaky clean and fragile. He wouldn't last a night in the life of Louis Tomlinson. Trust me Lou, he can't handle it, he'd get hurt. Let it be."

Louis sighs but nods. He knows Zayn's right. Harry radiates everything Louis used to be before the city chewed him up and spit him out. He's tough now, supposedly. He's tough and hard shelled, and Harry is soft, too soft.

He wouldn't last a night at a shady bar, or in Louis dodgy apartment building. Hell, he didn't even have any tattoos. Harry wasn't Louis' type. Or at least thats what he's convinced himself. For now.