If You See This Boy

Like Whispers I Hear You

Saturday passed by lazily. The day was spent with barely attempted tries at studying for my upcoming exams and a whole lot of LouisLouisLouis running chaotically through the spaces and cells of my head. Sunday morning came along pleasantly, before I was startled awake by the ringtone of my phone blasting beneath my cheek. "Hello?" I mumbled huskily into the receiver after answering the call.

"You ready to meet up?" Zayn replied mundanely into the phone. 

I rolled over on the bed before shoving myself off and dragging on a pair of Lou's joggers and one of his jumpers, "Yeah, yeah. Where do you want to meet?"

"How about the little cafe? Molly's... Em... or whatever it's called, you know, the little shop off of central, the one with the big glass paned windows?" he answered.

"Couldn't really be more vague. I suppose I'll find it," I grumbled back.

He chuckled a little on the other end of the line, "I'll see you there then, Harry."

I passed through the hall and stumbled my way along to the bathroom with my fingers trailing along the fading wallpaper. The colors were lighter today, a clear amount of white beginning to show through the paper. I would have to bring it up to Lou when he got home, maybe we could pick out something new together, maybe paint instead of paper. We could maybe even bring Zayn in to do the painting properly, surely he would do it out of the goodness of his heart and for a few spare notes. 

Dry shampoo was the first thing that I sprayed over my curls, desperately hoping that the spray would take away a bit of the grease and make them look at least a little presentable. After a long moment of failed attempts at containing the mussed curls, I gave up and brushed my teeth, carefully rinsing the minty paste from my mouth once I was finished. 

Static buzzed from the intercom on the wall, drawing my attention hesitantly to the device. However, once the static stopped, only silence followed. A soft sigh escaped my lips as I scrubbed a hand over my face. I would have to remember to tell Louis about those stupid things too. 

"Louis' coming home tonight, my love is coming home to me," I hummed as a smile spread over my lips. After barely toeing on my shoes, I threw on a jacket and stumbled out in the morning light. 

Central wasn't that far from our home, and the walk took around a measly seven minutes. It was dry and dreary, the clouds heavy in the sky warning of the nearing rain. 

The sign for the desired road was chilling through my coat as I leaned on it, attempting to catch a glance in both directions, looking for the stupid coffee shop that Zayn couldn't be bothered to remember the simple name of.

"Molly's my ass..." I grumbled after a moment, catching sight of a quaint coffee shop with large paned windows and wooden framing. Emilia's, was painted in green and pink in large, delicate letters just above the awning. A small bell tinkled as I pushed open the door and escaped the outside chill.

Zayn was perched at the counter, his elbows resting on the edge as he chatted with the male barista. His dark hair was splayed softly over his forehead for once, not a single drop of hair gel seeming to have been present anywhere. It was a nice look, something different from the usual quiff probably an influence of Niall's. His jacket was a soft white leather, that, was no doubt something of Niall's. 

"Chatting up someone new already are we? Bored of Niall?" I leaned on the remaining space of the counter beside Zayn. 

His burned hazel eyes drifted away from the barista, his lips sliding into a deep frown, "No. About time you showed up. This is Greg, Niall's brother, remember him? He's in for the winter season."