Twice Shy {h.s. au}

IX

The night before Harry was supposed to get on a plane for England, he, Maggie, and Eric were going to a Christmas party, though this one was miles above the last one he'd been to. He got ready with Eric, who, for the first time since Harry had known him, was nervous. He was supposed to meet someone at the house they were going to, which wasn't exactly a novelty, but obviously something about this night was different. As the two of them got ready, Eric peppered Harry with questions—should he bring flowers, was his shirt too much, cologne or no cologne, and was this really the best place for a first date?

Harry had never seen his roommate in such a state before, nor had he ever appeared to be so anxious before going to a party, that was usually Harry's thing. Still, it felt nice being the voice of reason instead of the one being reasoned with for once, so he tried to give his best advice. "Well, is it a date? I thought you said you just invited her to this thing," Harry said, though when he saw the look on Eric's face, he regretted it immediately.

"Fuck, man, I just invited her. I thought the date part was just implied," he said, running a hand through his hair. That's how Harry knew Eric was serious about this date. He rarely ever went out without wearing one of his baseball caps, but tonight he didn't put one on after his hair dried from his shower. He tried his hand at styling it, but he'd anxiously pulled at the roots so much it looked like an unruly mess.

Before Harry could try to rectify his statement, there was a knock on the door. Thankful for the interruption, he went over and opened it, smiling when he saw Maggie on the other side. "Hey, flower. You ready?"

"I am, but he isn't," Harry said, nodding his head to where Eric was pacing and mumbling to himself in front of his closet. "He's freaking out a little, and I think I made it worse."

Rolling her eyes, Maggie pushed her way inside and walked over to Eric, who was now holding two different button-down shirts in his hands. "Give me those," she said, taking the shirts from him. Tossing them on his bed, she started rifling through his closet.

"Thanks, Maggie," Eric said, looking slightly less stressed.

Maggie hummed, but didn't falter from her task. Harry walked over to him and awkwardly patted his shoulder and attempted to fix his hair. He thought it was the least he could do. "Everything's going to be fine, mate. I'm sure she'll like you no matter what you wear."

"Easy for you to say," Eric muttered.

That was not the response Harry was expecting. Sure, his roommate was nervous and Harry might have made it slightly worse, but he thought his last piece of advice was sound. His hand stilled in his roommates thick hair. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Eric gestured vaguely at Harry. "You dress like that all the time. It's, like, effortlessly cool. Girls like that kind of thing."

"Is that true?" Harry asked, looking down at himself and then at Maggie for help. He was in a button down and a pair of skinny jeans, he didn't think that was anything too crazy. "I just buy what I like."

Maggie, who had moved on to rifling through Harry's clothes, walked over to Harry and kissed his cheek before tossing a pullover to Eric. It was a simple gray crewneck with the word Obsession stitched across it in big letters. Not what Harry would've expected, but he supposed it would work.

"There. Wrinkle free to show you put in effort, but still casual," she said to Eric. Then she turned her attention towards Harry. "You do have a very nice sense of style, flower. It's one of the many things I love about you,"

"You think so?"

Eric scoffed. "Dude, how many people our age do you see walking around wearing patterned or bright colored button downs that are barely buttoned, chunky rings on every finger, and handkerchiefs instead of ties. Take the compliment before I hit you."