After I finished my using the bathroom and such, we did finally made it to the pancake house, down the street. Harry smirking at me the whole walk there, keep replaying the scene from this morning again and again.
"Hello, Harry and Tyler! Oh, and your new friends too. My name is Liam and I will be your waiter today. Um, can I start you guys off with something to drink?" A tall, muscular man, questions, a note pad and pen in hand.
Looking up past his hand, I realize his whole arm is blanketed by tattoos, mostly black inked. And looking even more toward the ceiling, I notice he has dazzling, hot coco, eyes.
A sudden sharp pain rips through my body, as Harry's foot makes contact with my leg, to make me stop staring intensely at the handsome waiter. Shyly, turning my head in his direction, his eyes grow with jealousy. My lips couldn't help but shape into a toothy grin.
"Two coffees for us. Mix them the way I like it." Harry winks at Liam, sending a sharp of envy through my bloodstream. "And two milks for the little ones." Harry adds, patting Tyler on the back, softly. His pats soon turns into rubs, moving his hand up and down her back. Tyler calms under his touch, like she knows she is safe when he is around.
"Coming right up," Liam nods, smiling as he begins to walk off.
"Lou?" Harry almost whispers, his voice still raspy.
Looking up through my eyelashes, our eyes connect, ocean blue meets olive green, once again. I fold my hands in my lap, uncomfortably. I don't want to talk about my father, but I know I have to.
He gets up, switching spots wit Tyler, across the table. She doesn't ask why, she just goes with it. Harry is planted right next to me now.
Darting my eyes toward both of our smaller siblings, sitting across the table from us, I study them carefully, both coloring in the Kids Menu's pictures.
"Louis." Harry repeats, but a bit louder, tangling ours legs together under the table.
"Harry." I say in a mocking tone of voice, only getting a small smirk out of Harry. Our eyes connect again and I feel like I'm swimming in them.
"You know you have to explain last night," Harry says, his smirk turning upside down, no longer showing his dimples. His face looks wrong without them, like a picture that lost it's frame. Yet, he still looks endlessly beautiful, even more so then Liam.
I sigh, heavily, blood rushing towards my cheeks, shading them pink. Harry takes my hand in his between the both of us, so no one can see. I sigh, again, but deeper and longer.
"I'm going to make this short and sweet, okay?" I admit, Harry nobbling. "Ever since Preston and I's mother died, years ago, he turned to alcohol to fix his problems, or at least forget about them. I made a home in a abandoned shed, so we don't have to go home unless we really need to. And when we do, well..." I choke up mid-sentence, my chest enclosing on me, feeling like it is on fire.
Harry squeezes my hand, worry flooding his eyes, making them grow darker and wider.
"You don't need to finish, I think I know the rest." Harry says, unlacing their hands, so he can rub his back like he did with Tyler. Louis calms under his touch too, it must be just something about him.
"You do?" I question, a small bit surprised. "How?"
"Those bruises you and Preston both have, it's pretty oblivious." Harry says, seriously. "We should report it, you know."
My eyes grow as big as baseballs, making me sit straight up. "No, no, no, Harry, we can't! Preston and I would be separated and be given to different parents. He is the only good left in my life, I can't get that taken away." Tears leak from my eyes like waterfalls.
Beautiful waterfalls, Harry thought.
Harry wraps an arm around Louis, again, trying to help him calm down. "We will figure something out then. Okay, Lou?" Harry reassures, running his large hand up and down my arm. "How old are you, Lou?"
"17, 18 this December," I says, looking up at green eyed boy.
He must be older, he looks older, more dominant.
"Only a few months and you be an legal adult." Harry smiles, brightly.
"What about you? How old are you?" I ask, playing with Harry's fingers.
"19, turning 20 this February." Harry says, showing more dimple.
Liam comes back with a tray full of drinks, smiling at Harry and I.
"Here you go, Sweetie." Liam places a small kid cup of milk in front of Tyler.
Preston's eyes examine Liam's arm closely.
"Lou, why does he have coloring on his arms?" Preston questions me, concerned.
My eyebrows raises, just before the two older boys and I break out into a loud laughter.
"Little dude, those are called tattoos, they're like permanent coloring." I say to Preston, trying to keep my laughs under control.
I catch Harry glancing over at me, he smiles even wider when he looks at me. Liam catches the moment too.