Love, Harry • h.potter ✓

xvii| crimson

ѕevenтeen

Callum wasn't very keen about it but upon Aiden's insistence, he finally agreed to go out with him. He had been looking rather sullen lately, as Aiden had put it, though he refused to admit it, and in the end he had proposed to take him out to roam around in hopes that it would lift his spirits.

Thus, one weekend, Callum found himself walking along a road that led to a renowned food court at Little Whinging. Aiden, unlike him, looked quite excited as he spoke animatedly, his stutter having been reduced by a significant amount.

"You should have come to school last Wednesday," said he, while Callum attempted to keep his attention on the conversation, not allowing it to drift away to other, more interesting aspects. "One of the kids accidentally released his pet rat in the auditorium while the play rehearsal was going on. You should have seen the chaos."

Callum forced a smile, and pushed away the words from Harry's last letter that were constantly crowding in his mind. There was no drama at Hogwarts so far, Harry had stated, though he did mention something about a Slytherin boy who seemed to be up to no good, and that he was keeping an eye on him. The woman who had a twisted sense of fascination toward punishing children was, thankfully, gone, and Callum was extremely relived, for he wasn't sure he would have been able to survive the school year with no word from Harry. The pink scars on his hand weren't a relieving sight either.

"And then the rat bit his leg –" Aiden stopped. The abrupt silence broke Callum out of his reverie and he drew himself out of his daydream before turning to look at the boy, who was gazing at him with an odd look on his face. "Are you listening to me, Callum?" he asked quietly.

Callum decided to be truthful. "Uh – sorry, I was lost in thought."

"Has anything been bothering you?" Aiden inquired; there was a slight tremble between each word, a sign of his stutter returning.

"No, I'm fine."

They arrived at the food joint. It was small and not too crowded, which Callum was thankful for. Aiden led him down the aisle and to a table for two, where he sat down. Callum joined him.

"I'm not annoying you, am I?" asked Aiden, uncertainly, hesitantly. Callum looked up from the menu and met his eyes, which looked slightly blurry through his thick glasses. The freckles that were splashed on his cheeks and nose looked prominent in the dim lighting of the place.

"No," he answered shortly.

"I'm only trying to – trying to help you, Callum," he said, fiddling with his fingers which lay atop the table. "You looked very disturbed about something, and you weren't talking at all. I thought that – that it would help you if you went outside to get some fresh air."

"Thank you, Aiden," Callum tried to sound sincere, but his voice came out rather flat. "I just wasn't in the mood to leave home today."

A shadow passed over his face and his eyes went down. "Oh. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have forced you."

He restrained from sighing and handed over the menu to Aiden, who took it mutely and began to read over the options available. Their food arrived ten minutes later, and during these ten minutes Aiden spoke about his classes and home, and asked him about his family, his hobby, asked whether he had drawn any new paintings, though, now his voice was quieter and lacked the initial cheeriness.

When they stood up to leave, Callum began to feel bad.

"I'm sorry, Aiden," he said after leaving the shop, and the boy looked up at him impassively. "I know I'm acting like a prick, but I'm just not feeling very good today. I'm thankful to you for bringing me here, for showing concern, and I'm sorry that I was so – well –" he paused and frowned, trying to come up with a suitable word.

Aiden sighed and held up a hand to stop him. "I'm sorry too," he said, taking Callum by surprise. "I'm sorry that I cared enough to go out of my way and bring you here. I'm sorry that I constantly kept embarrassing myself, that I kept going after you even though you showed absolutely no interest in me." Callum's eyes widened, but Aiden didn't give him a chance to speak as he continued. "There were so many other people, and I had to fall for you. Someone who never bothered to speak to me. Why do you think I ignored my inhibitions and spoke to you even though I always keep myself reserved because of my stammering? So that you can tell me to shut up constantly?"

"Aiden!" he protested loudly. He was horrified at the new information. "I never told you to shut up!"

"You didn't? You keep telling me to stop talking. My stutter irritates you, doesn't it?"

"It's not because of your stutter, Aiden. I don't – I'm like that to everyone."

Aiden was breathing heavily now. Desperately, Callum held him by the arm and led him to a deserted area, for they were already attracting much attention from passersby. He let Aiden regain his breathing, standing patiently, though inside, his mind was whirling with thoughts. He felt dizzy.

"You pro–pro–bably aren't even into boys," said Aiden bitterly. After the fading of the initial bout of confidence, his stutter has returned once again. "You probably hate – hate me now."

Callum wasn't sure how to respond to that, for he felt that telling him about Harry wouldn't exactly be the best idea. Aiden defiantly stared away from him, his arms crossed over his chest and eyes filled with angry fire. He refused to answer when he called him by his name once, twice, three times. Finally, he gave up and turned away.

"I'm going home," he stated. "Thank you for bringing me here."

Aiden didn't respond.

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what a cliché