boys don't cry. [h.s]

ten

March

"Tea, Harry?" Isabel asked, popping the kettle on and leaning against the counter.

Harry was sitting at the small kitchen table, battling with the SLR camera that Caitlin had leant him for the occasion. "Yes please," he replied, looking up at her with a smile.

"How do you take it?" Isabel asked casually, but she knew the answer from all the cups of tea they had at work: weak, no sugar, like her.

"The same as you," Harry said without looking up, fiddling with the lens in a worryingly amateur fashion.

She nodded, trying not to dwell on the fact that he'd not only noticed how she liked her tea but remembered too, and got the milk out of the fridge.

"Issy, me and Lyds are just heading out now," she heard Liam's voice call, and a moment later he was sticking his head round the door of the kitchen. "Are you sure you don't –"

He noticed Harry sitting at the table, and for a moment his eyes lingered on the tattoos and mop of hair – today not in its usual bandana – before going over to shake Harry's hand.

"For a moment there I thought that was Louis at the table," he laughed. "I'm Liam, nice to meet you."

"Harry. You too," he replied politely.

"What happened?" Liam asked, nodding at Harry's left hand. He had a bandage wrapped around it, snaking in the crevice between his thumb and forefinger.

"I had stitches," Harry explained. "I cut my hand on cracked china."

"Ouch. How big was it?"

"Hardly long at all and only a quarter of an inch deep. It kept opening up and bleeding every time I moved my hand though."

Isabel rolled her eyes. "Liam, he wouldn't go to the hospital. His friends had to make him go."

Harry pouted. "I don't like stitches." He licked his lips, his eyes glazing over slightly before continuing, "It's cos when I was younger my older brother, he like sliced his eyebrow open and then his stitches got all infected, it was disgusting. He used to lean over my bed and wake me up with his head in my face. I still get nightmares."

He grinned at her shyly and she smiled back. She'd never heard him speak about his older brother like this before.

Liam coughed, and both of them jumped in surprise. "So are you two gonna join us later?

"No, no, we're not here for long actually," Isabel explained. "We're just gonna go and pick out some clothes upstairs then we're going back to Harry's. I'm being his model, it's for his art degree." Liam raised his eyebrows.

"Portraiture, that sort of thing," Harry mumbled.

"Okay, sure," Liam said with a firm nod. "Well, I'll tell them you said hello, Is."

She nodded, smiling as he left the kitchen and Lydia called a goodbye before the door slammed shut. Isabel handed Harry his mug and he followed as she led the way.

"My room's right at the top," she warned, "it's a bit of a hike."

"It's no problem," he responded from behind her. "Is Millie here?"

"No, she and Scarlett went to the cinema," Isabel explained, nearly adding 'And I really wanted to go but I didn't for you'.

"It would've been nice to see Millie again," Harry said, and Isabel frowned, remembering the way Harry had eyed her up at the gig. Well, he did like brunette girls.