Strawberry Milk

5

He's alone in the cafeteria again, picking at his freshly washed t-shirt that smells like green apples and strawberries, and it has absolutely nothing to do with a curly haired boy. It was just what he was feeling at the moment.

Anyway, he's alone and annoyed, because he doesn't like being alone. It makes him feel anxious and edgy and like he looks stupid, which is stupid, because it's not like he's in high school anymore, a lot of people are sitting alone.

But all of that rushes away when he sees a certain gentle boy stumble as gracefully as someone can make tripping look through the doors. The boy looks around, seemingly anxious, and Louis immediately waves him over. When their eyes meet, Harry smiles shyly and nods, making his way to Louis in his trackies and cotton sweater. Louis thinks he looks very warm and cuddly, and all Louis finds himself wanting to do is to wrap his arms around the boy and spoon him hot cocoa.

"Hey mate, how've you been?" Louis asks softly, moving so he's facing Harry at the round table.

Harry smiles up at him from where he's pulling out his bottle of strawberry milk, fingers poking out from his sweater paws, and Louis sees that they're still painted purple. "I'm alright, how about you?"

Louis props his head up on his hand and pretends like he's stroking a fake beard, face scrunched up in thought. "Well," he says, "I washed my clothes. So that's that, I suppose."

Harry giggles next to him, his eyes bright.

"No, seriously, you should smell me, c'mon."

Louis' pushing his shirt sleeve toward Harry, and Harry laughs, but smells anyway, humming out, "Apples?"

"Green," Louis nods, adding, "oh, and strawberries."

"Fits you." Harry says between sips of his strawberry milk.

"That's what I tho-" Louis' interrupted by a loud bang, and Harry's entire face contorts in fear. He shrinks back into his chair, eyes wide. It looks as if he is trying to melt into the plastic, completely disappear until he is nothing more than a placemat for dirty feet.