Scars And a Cup of Coffee | Zarry [complete]

Chapter 12: Harry

Scars And a Cup of Coffee

Harry was happy, even as he made Mrs. Higgins ever, so complex order. Today was Sunday, so Harry was in store for having to make a strawberry boba, frosted, not iced,  cappucino- it was part of the managerial improvement program that he created,  and his new additions to the menu were all these oriental biased drinks, that everyone couldn't get enough of- and he had a slight skip to his step that came from nowhere. His day was made better, for when he gave the rude woman her beverage, he received a smile.

An honest to god, I'm actually happy  smile, but it didn't stop there. She complimented him with a "Wonderful job,  Harry." As she walked out, he waved after her, actually meaning the nice gesture.

Liam came out of the back, a basket of fresh cheese pastries that were heaven to the taste buds in hand. Harry swooped it out of his hands, slid them over the counter, and took Liam's hand. "Dance with me." Liam laughed, head swooping back with his radiant giggles.

They waltzed clumsily and awkwardly in the small space, Liam would continually step on his toes, but he could care less. He twirled Liam around, and as he brought him back in, he asked, "So when's your date with Lou?"

"Tonight." Liam answered, head down as he attempted to mind his feet. "Might you know where he would take me?"

Harry grinned, "Maybe, but sadly I will not succumb to the eyes betrothed to you by puppy's, and you must wait."

Liam sighed as he leaned back and Harry dipped him. "I'm nervous, I haven't been trying to get into relationships, let alone go on a date since I was nineteen."

"Oh, you'll be fine. You both have an obsession with movies that alone can get you through the first and second date."

Liam gave him an appreciative look before Harry released, allowing him to get back to work. Finally the two of them noticed Zayn, who clapped with a smirk on his face. "That all? I was expecting the famous lift from Dirty Dancing; total score of seven out of ten."

"We all know you're the ballerina of us,  Zayn, no need to rub it in." Liam chided playfully before heading into the back room.

Harry punched in Zayn's usual order, stifling his chuckles with his free hand,  getting to work as Zayn leaned on the counter. Harry felt heat at the back of his neck, knowing fully well that he had his friend's stare fixed upon him. The warmth expanded through his face, leading to him blushing like a love struck teen. Harry turned around handing Zayn his coffee, not missing the way Zayn's hazel eyes stopped quickly at his lips.

"What are you going to do today?" Harry asked intrigued.

Zayn pursed his lips, "I'm going to attempt to get this new laptop set up, but honestly I'm crappy with computers; so you know where to look when you smell smoke."

Harry grinned at him as he sauntered to his usual table, Harry admired the loose movements and firm step of the soldier, the way his shoulders were set straight and back solid showed that Zayn had been through war. It was the subtle things that Harry gathered from him that revealed everything. The way his eyes showed more than the form his lips took ever could, the way his hands shook when he was in a daydreaming, or the way he gave Harry looks that could mean three million versions of the same message.

Zayn gave Harry looks of adoration,  which Harry would return because feeling wanted felt amazing. The way Zayn leaned on his shoulder as they talked, or the way he would let Harry hug him, and even the times Harry felt absolutely horrible about himself, Zayn wouldn't ask just remind him that things aren't so bad.

Harry, through out the day glanced towards Zayn's area and refilled his coffee before he noticed it was gone. Harry would laugh when Zayn would curse at his laptop, calling it profanities of every nature. But when Zayn was relaxed and the sun was just over the city horizon, the light would gleam off his olive skin, that enhanced every feature about him. Harry would take his phone out and take photos if he didn't have customers to serve.

Harry finished serving the old man who didn't know what the difference between hot coffee with ice or frosted coffee was,  and continued refilling the display case. Liam had left thirty minutes ago to get ready for his date, and the next person to come in called in sick so he had to take the responsibility as manager. Harry's feet ached from standing, but his stool broke last week so he had no where to sit. Harry was about to stretch before another customer walked in.

It wasn't just any customer.

Nick strolled in, looking as harmless as the day they first met, but Harry felt the panic in his throat. Harry felt his stomach clench with every step his ex came closer, and the need for flight set in. Harry's hands shook as he stepped back, his legs becoming weak.

"Harry." Nick stated, his tone inviting but Harry took it as anything but. "We need to talk."

Harry could barely get his words out, "The-then t-talk."

"Alone," Nick whispered.

Harry felt his feet go numb,  hadn't not been his grip on the counter he would've fallen to the floor. "What's w-wr-wrong with here?"

Nicks eyes clouded with anger and Harry moaned in discomfort, "You know exactly why there is something wrong with here." Harry whimpered, that tone of voice always lead to something worse. "Let's go to the employee room." Nick didn't offer him a choice as he grabbed Harry's wrist, and Harry could feel the agony pang up his arm.

Nick dragged him into the room with the lockers, and Harry couldn't resist his strength so he didn't even try to escape. Nick pulled him in, slamming him against the cold locker, forcing his lips upon his. Harry pushed him away, or at least attempted to,  but Nick just increased the pressure on his wrist and tears formed in Harry's eyes.

Nick pulled away,  seemingly satisfied with the way he left Harry's lips, red and raw. "Harry, I want you back."

Harry felt the water flow, this had been exactly what he feared, that Nick would come and ruin everything he worked up to. Harry used the last of his audacity to spit in his face, "No."

"What the fuck did you just say?" Nick snarled in his face, he slammed Harry harder into the lockers.

"No," Harry whispered, his voice cracking as his panic rose, he could feel the phantom pain come where it would strike. Harry was right, as Nick's knee came in contact with his stomach.

"You're mine, Harry. Remember. All those nights I fucked you," Harry didn't want to remember, he could feel the flood of memories ready to destroy him. "Those days where you couldn't even move with how hard I did you. The way you would scream my name like the little whore you are." Harry screamed, thrashing against Nick doing anything in his power to free himself.

"Stop please!"

"No!" Nick yelled, kneeing Harry in the thigh so he'd collapse. "I went to rehab for you, I stopped drinking for you! Don't you dare think that I'm going to let you go!"

Harry felt numb everywhere, "Nick, please." It barely made its way past his lips, he could feel him submit to this cruelty.

"You actually think I deserve any of this, you're the one being a disobedient little bitch. I'm the best you ever had, you should be crawling back to me," Nick fumed,  his fist coming into contact with Harry's face. "You are an ungrateful. Piece. Of. Shit." With each pause came a punch, thrown to Harry's body. Harry wailed, accepting every single shot.

But when Harry expected another painful strike it didn't come. Harry opened his eyes,  proving difficult since one swelled slightly, and found something that made him cry, but for different reasons.

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-Mitchi