Chapter Eight

                                    

                                          

Chapter Eight

                          
Harry felt out of place.
                          
He sat with his hands folded together and resting on his lap, his head drooping down and glancing at the small crucifix on his left hand. His thumb stroked it carefully, a nervous habit of his. There was a bubble of anxiety and discomfort surrounding him. 
                          
The small café was crowded and he felt as if the walls were closing in on him, a fire blazing and burning in the room and stealing all his oxygen. The strange man who he had run into, Liam, was sitting across from him, looking at him with wide volcanic eyes. He could feel them spitting lava at the side of his head. Harry was late for work. Very, very late.
                          
However, when Liam had introduced himself and invited (although it was more of a command than anything else) him for coffee, he couldn't help but oblige. It was mainly out of impulse. It was only after the words had skyrocketed out of his mouth that he realised what he had done and at that point it was already too late to decline. 
                          
The journey to the bubbling and chattering café on the corner of the street was silent. Liam seemed to be caught up in his own thoughts. Harry's own seemed to be filled with Zayn, Zayn, Zayn. It was consuming him;
                          
'What would he do if he knew what he was doing right now?'
                          
'Would he even care?'
                          
He probably wouldn't, but still Harry couldn't shake the feeling that he was somehow betraying Zayn. When they arrived at their final destination, Liam found a table and sat down with Harry following suit shortly after. And that was what had led them here to this very moment, with Harry sitting silently, nerves zapping through his veins, and Liam silent as well and yet staring at Harry with assessing eyes. It was almost as if he was trying to analyse him, trying to figure him out. 
                          
They remained like this until the sound of a feminine voice interrupted the tense atmosphere encircling the two. 
                          
"What can I get you gentlemen?" The waitress' faux-cheery voice chirped. 
                          
Liam was forcefully broken out of his reverie. Her turned to face her, seemingly startled by her appearance.
                          
"Oh! Erm...I'll have a slice of your raspberry cheesecake and a latte, please." He said, without sparing a single glance towards the menu.
                          
'He must be a regular' Harry thought to himself. Harry's eyes darted over the menu before deciding on a plain black coffee. He couldn't afford much else.
                          
"Harry, aren't you going to have anything else? You look as though you could use something to eat." Liam said. He frowned at Harry.
                          
"I'm alright, thanks." Harry said.
                          
"Are you sure? Did you have breakfast? Come have something, it's my treat. Do you like cheesecake?" Liam asked, firing question after question at him, barely giving him time to reply. Harry nodded slightly, hesitantly.
                          
"We'll get another cheesecake, thanks." Liam said. 
                          
The waitress quickly tittered away, her low heels clicking on the tiled, black flooring. Liam turned to face Harry once again, his gaze burning into him.
                          
"So, Harry..." Liam said. Harry slowly lifted his head, still avoiding Liam's eyes, but didn't speak.
                          
"Why do you avoid my eyes?" Liam asked softly. Harry flushed, completely mortified and bewildered that he had been caught out.
                          
"I-I...erm, I d-don't." He stuttered. 
                          
"You do. I know this might come as a bit odd, seeing as you hardly know me but I don't bite I promise." Liam said. He flashed Harry a small smile.
                          
Harry just looked down again and nodded, his fingers tangling together. 
                          
"It's alright, you don't have to talk, ok?" Liam continued, "You know when I was younger, I used to get bullied a lot. I was just a scrawny little skinny kid who liked books. I wasn't as built as the other boys in my year- I know, hard to believe, right?- they used to call me names- awful, awful names. They would hit me and beat me and I didn't come from money, my family was very poor- we only had our mother, as my father had left when we were younger, and she had to work five jobs just to support all of us and even then we could barely get by- and they used to- they used to take money from me. They would force me to steal from my mother's bag just so I wouldn't get beaten by them. They would threaten to kill me if I ever told- I was terrified."
                          
Harry listened intently to the stranger tell his depressing story. Liam paused and sighed before he went on.
                          
"It got so bad, that I would cry myself to sleep every night. I wouldn't eat. I was so depressed. I wouldn't talk to anyone, I thought I would just be burdening them if I told them what was happening to me. It wasn't a big deal, I didn't need to stress my mother anymore than she already was. And then one night when I was trying to steal money from the draw beside her bed and she walked in and caught me. And I stood there as she screamed at me and I- I just cracked. I started sobbing and I told her everything, everything from beginning to end. I watched her eyes soften and it was like something broke in her and she started crying too and we just held each other and cried. It was like a breath of relief. Like something had been sitting on my lungs and I could finally breathe again. It felt so good to tell someone."

                          
"What happened to your bullies?" Harry asked, curiously.
                          
"My mother went to the school the next day and I told the headmistress everything. They were all expelled. I started taking boxing lessons and began to build myself up again." Liam said, " The point I'm trying to get at is that it's better to tell someone what you're going through, so that they can help you. Even if nothing can be done to save the situation, it helps to let out your feelings, to vent."
                          
"Are you happy, Harry?"
                          
And right there in the middle of the café, with someone who was technically a stranger sitting across from him, Harry began to cry.
                          
~
                          
A/N: Not very long. I didn't realise that I had used Louis already, so I changed it to Liam. Hope you don't mind. Let me know what you think of the chapter.
                          
-Savannah