Brother's Best Friend || l.s.

chapter 3

There was quite the midday rush of customers, that following Saturday at the bakery. There was Harry frantically typing orders into the till, taking money from customers, fishing out change; Liam trying his best to shovel the chosen food items into paper bags without dropping them on the floor; Niall throwing new batches into the ovens and rolling out fresh dough. By the time it had blown over, and the final customer of the rather overwhelming wave of an intensive forty minutes had left, Harry pretended to collapse into the chair at the side of the till to provoke laughter from his two mates.

"Fucking hell, why did that get so busy?" Niall sighed, wiping a layer of perspiration from his forehead. "I'm pretty sure every single person living in Holmes Chapel just wandered in."

"Pretty much," Harry chuckled, eyeing the clock on the wall, "Liam, I think it's your turn to go on your break now."

"Glad to hear it, I'm starving!" Liam rubbed his hands together, taking off his apron and carelessly throwing it onto the counter. "See you boys in half an hour."

"Enjoy it, mini Tommo." Niall high-fived him as he passed, almost a form of encouragement, and he strolled off into the back room. There was a calming silence over Harry and Niall, a subtle buzzing from the drinks fridge by the front door, and the occasional whoosh of a car gliding by outside.

"I'll get started on the date-rotations in the stockroom, are you okay staying out here?" Niall asked, pointing a thumb back to said room.

"How on earth will I serve all of these customers alone?" Harry sarcastically questioned, hands extending out to the completely empty bakery. "You'd be heartless to leave me."

Niall slowly smirked before ruffling Harry's hair. "You're funny, H. I'll be with the stock if you need me, yes?"

"Sure, that's fine."

Niall wandered off, leaving the space around Harry even more silent, impossibly more. He dragged the high stool over to sit right in front of the till, sitting up high and drumming his fingers idly on the till's buttons.

Harry was still recovering from the bombardment of customers, his body calming gradually down from the overwhelming performance of multi-tasking, when the bell above the door rang. His eyes darted up from his fiddling fingers to see who had entered, and he immediately let out an embarrassing cough of shock to see that it was none other than Louis Tomlinson.

God Damn it.

He played it off by continuing the cough casually, as though it had been an intentional and completely normal act of clearing his throat, before attempting a smile at Louis. It was hard to act so calm when Louis looked so hot, dressed in a baggy Adidas jumper and grey shorts. Fucking. Shorts.

"Uh... Hi, Louis." Harry finally found his words, after fighting so hard to keep his eyes from checking out Louis' tanned legs.

"Hello, Harry. You look busy." Louis sarcastically commented, tucking his hands into his front pockets and stopping about half a metre from the counter. He tilted his head to the side and smiled, a smile so pretty that could probably actually blind somebody, Harry reckoned.

"Busy as ever," He played along, smiling softly. "Anyway, I'm guessing you're here for Liam. You don't seem like the sort of guy to hang out in a bakery."