SEQUAL TO "ISSUES"
[ ↬ central cee x fem. oc ↫ ]
"But be patient it'll take some time"
𝘰𝘳
in which Oakley and Michaela find their way back to eachother.
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"Harry my guy my guy how's you?"
Harrison had finally returned to London after a month or two back home in Manchester to see his parents and had asked Oakley out on a coffee date. It wasn't a real date of course, "it's just what people call em" as the blond had said. When he had approached Shanel about his plans for the weekend she'd been bothered by it, a rare occurrence, all because of his phrasing. He felt guilty about it for a while but he couldn't do much else about it, that was her problem for not finding the humour.
"I'm alright I'm alright man how's you then Oaks"
The pair had fist-bumped when Oakley first arrived but now they found themselves tangled in a tight hug, patting each other's backs affectionately. Harrison was taken by surprise by the embrace that the other had initiated: public affection was not typical behaviour people usually expected of him. Nonetheless, he enjoyed the warmth that was created and basked in the thought of being so comfortable together that this was plausible. One thing he had noticed though was that the man's café order never differed in any circumstance. Not even now after undergoing a dramatic lifestyle change (for the good might I add) did he change what he orders in Pret. Hot chocolate topped with cream and a croissant. Though he had pushed the boat out and gone for an almond one this time, it was comforting to know he still had some of his childlike qualities that he had found so interesting the first time they met.
The pair must've been talking for hours because eventually, the lady who was sweeping when Harrison first got here had to kick them out and shoo them with the broom, but only jokingly. He had offered to drive the other home seen as he had walked here but he insisted on walking back as well, something about it being god for your mind. He imagined it being something his therapist had drummed into his brain for a long time but he didn't see signs of dread in the statement, so he left him to it.
After Harry had driven off and he had waved goodbye Oakley took off on his stroll back to his apartment block with music blaring through his air-pods and a gentle breeze flowing through the bouncy curls on his head. Recently, he had gotten his hair cut dramatically short with a fade on the sides. It was a dramatic change to the way he'd styled it for so many years but its newness felt nice and his development was finally physically visible. He'd argue it looked neater and that tad bit more professional now because it was clean and long hair got in the way a lot and it could get messy. That wasn't true though of course. The luscious locks that once adorned his scalp and the braids he always had them in were a symbol of his brand and had been for so long. His manager had been concerned for his social status as well, not that Oakley would've cared anyway; his second mixtape was due to drop in September. How could anyone be concerned for his status when the predicted, 'album of the year' was soon to drop?
