got to get you into my life ➥ narry

one

As Harry rummaged through his fridge and pantry for anything that he might be in the mood to eat, he came up pretty empty handed. It's been a couple weeks since he's last been to the market and stocked up which could explain his scarce food selection. Sighing, Harry grabbed his car keys and wallet from the door side table and began the small trek to the car park outside his apartment.

Fortunately, his local Tesco was hardly even a mile from home so it wasn't too out of the way. He had just gotten back from work, however, so he deemed the trip as an annoyance since he just wanted to relax. In a few short minutes, he had arrived to his destination and managed to score a pretty close parking spot to the front. The weather was quite chilly so he muttered a thank you to no one in particular as he parked, grateful he wouldn't have to be in the cold for long.

Harry exits and locks his car, stuffing his keys into his front pocket and swiftly walks to the entrance. Upon arriving, he grabs a basket from the stack off to the side and begins his shopping trip. He roams in and out of aisles, gathering a few cooking essentials and an assortment of snacks. He has a few meals envisioned for the rest of the week so he gathers the ingredients to those and by the end he regrets not grabbing a shopping trolley. His basket is overflowing with food and he figures he has enough to last for a while.

Satisfied with his array of food, he makes his way to the checkout and chooses the shortest line to wait in. There's one customer ahead of him, a seemingly sweet older woman who is digging through her coin purse to gather the exact amount of change. Then, Harry takes a glance at the cashier and has to do a double take.

He's got blonde hair with brown roots, a pale complexion, and from the sound of it, an Irish accent. He sports a pair of glasses and a kind smile, however, from his demeanor Harry can tell he's getting impatient waiting on the older lady. In his opinion, the cashier is quite a handsome bloke, one that he hasn't seen around before.

Harry is broken from his trance when he's stunned to see the older woman whack the cashier on the head with a baguette out of nowhere. He zones in on their conversation to understand what's happening.

"M'am, I'm just trying to tell you that you gave me the wrong change." The cashier sputters out aggravated but semi-fearful.

He then tries to explain the difference she owes and she huffs as she slams a few more coins onto the counter. Before he's able to hand her the receipt, she hurriedly rushes off in a fit, well as fast as a woman her age can rush that is.

Harry, who is still standing in shock, chuckles as he watches the cashier shake his head in annoyance. They then make eye contact after Harry places his basket on the conveyor belt and takes a few steps forward.

"Get hit by nans often?" Harry questions with a smirk.

"Not the first time," Niall, as the name tag reads on his vest replies with a lighthearted sigh. "She had it out for me the moment she saw me I think."

Harry laughs, "You alright, though?"

He nods, beginning to scan Harry's items, "If the bread was stale I think I might have a concussion."

"Thank your lucky stars," He replies. "Get off work soon?"

Niall nods graciously, "Had an eight hour shift and I'm out in fifteen minutes."

Harry smiles, "Well at least you can say you ended it with a bang, or should I say whack."

The cashier simply snickers in response, continuing to finish the transaction. He tells Harry his total and once he's payed, Niall hands him his receipt and smiles.

"Have a good evening," Niall says before moving onto the next customer.

"You too! Stay clear of anymore dangerous nans," Harry jokes but soon regrets it when he sees another older lady next in line.