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Harry smiled at the woman sitting in the entrance of the market as he paid to enter. She returned it enthusiastically, handing him a ticket to use if he needed to leave and come back. He’d been looking forward to the event all week and was excited now that it’d finally arrived, even if his friend, Niall, had bailed on him at the last second, leaving him feeling a little awkward on his own.
At the end of each summer, the local farmer’s market expanded to something more like a small festival to say goodbye to this season and hello to the next. The market was dressed all over in fairy lights and live music filled the space. There were still the standard vendors Harry saw each weekend, when he would normally be selling his own baked goods, but the promise of larger crowds brought out all sorts of new exciting things to buy and he was nothing if not eager to spend the extra money he’d been setting aside in his budget. Honestly, he was a little too shy to try selling to this many people, so he elected to just enjoy the night as a customer.
Stepping into the (admittedly overwhelming) space, Harry devised a plan of attack to make it through the full market. If he went down to his left and worked his way across, he could end the night listening to the band play… was that Madonna? He’d definitely want to stick around awhile. He started making his way down the line of booths, keeping an eye out for any familiar faces he could talk to. As luck would have it, he spotted a familiar bee-covered logo.
He looked behind the table to see… a man who was definitely not his friend, Zayn. He frowned slightly to himself, double checking to make sure it was indeed the Malik Family Farm’s booth.
“Need any help?” the man asked, drawing back his attention. He was quite fit, really. Brown hair nearly to his shoulders, a great set of cheekbones, and despite his being dressed in a regular band tee and a baseball cap, Harry suddenly felt extremely aware of his own outfit choices. He quickly smoothed over his teal jacket and fussed with his own hair under the attention, causing the man in front of him to quirk the corner of his mouth into a small smile, and Harry was struck with the realization he’d taken a bit too long to answer.
“Where’s Zayn?” he rushed out.
“Well that’s classified information, who’s asking?” The smile definitely seemed more like a smirk now.
“Oh, um.” Rationally, it was just good form not to hand out info to any prying minds, but irrationally, Harry was absolutely flustered by the gorgeous man wanting to know his name. “I’m Harry, usually Zayn has my order set off to the side for me?”
He gave an exaggerated gasp. “Not the famous Harry Styles? Inventor of the most amazing desserts I graciously take off Zayn and Li’s hands when I’m over?”
“The one and only,” Harry said jokingly, and were this man’s eyes that blue all this time? It was criminal, honestly.
“I’m Louis, Zayn needed to pick up one of the kids from a friend’s house, so I’m your interim honey salesman until he makes it back.”
Harry nodded, taking in the information. “It’s lovely to meet you, I actually think he might have mentioned you before,” he offered.
“Pleasure’s mine, love.” And if that didn’t just make Harry weak in the knees. He sighed a little too dreamily not to be embarrassing before snapping back out of it.
“Did he leave my honey with you?”
“Yeah, got a bag with your name on it and everything,” he said, reaching down beneath the table to grab it. Harry went to pull out his wallet. “Ah-ah, nope. I’m under strict orders not to let you pay a single quid and you know it.”
Harry pouted. “It’s not like I even have anything for him this week, it’s not fair at all.”
“Life usually isn’t, love. You’ll get over it, I’m sure.” Louis’ eyes sparkled mischievously. “And anyway, you could always bring extra next week and say it’s just for me, that’d be payment plenty.”
Harry blushed. “I just might.”
“That’s my boy.” If Harry turned any redder, he might need a doctor. Louis held out the bag to him with a wink and he accepted it as gracefully as possible in his condition before stuttering out a goodbye, making his great escape so he couldn’t say anything unbelievably dumb. In his determination to exit the tongue-tying vicinity of Louis, he found himself walking straight past several booths he really would’ve liked to check out. Embarrassed, he slunk back in that direction, refusing to make any eye contact with the cause of his ditziness.
…
When Harry finally recovered from his temporary insanity, he was looking through some vintage blouses and wrinkling his nose at the lack of anything that could fit someone bigger than maybe a ten-year-old. They really were lovely, but he was going to have to resign himself to leaving them on their rack. At least it was nice to have stepped away from the walkway, he was beginning to regret wearing his jacket with all the extra heat being surrounded on all sides was causing. He took a deep breath before braving it again, stopping not long after to inspect another baker’s different slices of cake on display.
Just as he was in the middle of debating between lemon blueberry or strawberry champagne, a familiar voice spoke next to him.
“Me personally, I’d go for the espresso one.”
“Louis!” Harry startled, nearly dropping the container he’d been holding. “You’re away from the table?” He turned to look at the man next to him.
“Yeah, Zayn’s back, so I’ve been relieved of my duties,” Louis explained. “Just checking out what else is here now.” In that moment, Harry made his decision.
“Could I get one of the strawberry champagne and one espresso?” he asked the old woman behind the table, pulling out his wallet.
“Of course, dear,” she said with a smile, accepting the money from him. Harry grabbed the cakes, holding out the espresso to Louis, who looked a bit shocked at the gesture.
“Oh no, I couldn’t, really,” he tried to argue, but Harry just pushed the container into his hands.
“I insist,” he said.
Now it was Louis’ turn to flush as he thanked Harry for the cake. “I’ll, uh, see you around then, yeah?”
Harry nodded just in time for Louis to walk away, getting lost in the crowd much like he himself had earlier.
“Young love,” the old woman said wistfully.
“We just met today,” Harry protested weakly, still staring at the spot where Louis had disappeared.
…
After making it through about half the market, Harry came across a lovely little booth full of colorful cowboy hats. He squealed a little at the sight of one in particular, with a mostly pink base but a section of the brim done in a beautiful blue floral pattern. It had a band of lace around it and leafy detailing on the very top and around the floral bit. He went to try it on immediately. Harry backed up to get a better look in a mirror attached to the board the hat was hanging on and found his back pressed up against someone. He quickly jumped away, already apologizing when he turned to see Louis again.
“We just keep running into each other, don’t we?”
“Must be fate,” Harry responded, a little dazed as he once again found himself staring into those eyes.
“Think we should take the hint and stick together?” Louis questioned, eyebrows raised slightly.
Harry broke into a dimpled grin. “Absolutely,” he said, earning another smile in return.
“Right, so what are we looking at here?” His eyes traveled up to the top of Harry’s head and why would- oh, he’d forgotten about the hat. He pulled it off at lightning speed, feeling a little silly about the thing now.
“Just some hats, I thought they were- I don’t know what I thought, we can move on if you want,” he rambled.
“‘Course not, love. Come on, give us a show, can’t know what one to get if you don’t try them all on,” Louis said kindly, reaching for a yellow hat with a large bow attached beside him to put it up on Harry’s head. He blushed, turning back to the mirror to study it.
…
“So what all you got there?” Louis asked, nodding towards Harry’s fairly stuffed tote bag as they sat down together at a picnic table set up by some food trucks. Harry set it on his lap to pull out his new treasures he’d collected before Louis joined him, explaining them all as he went.
“Oh and this is some goat’s milk soap, I got eucalyptus and mint and Bulgarian lavender scented,” he said, handing them over for Louis to sniff.
“Don’t remember seeing these, what makes the lavender Bulgarian? Just smells like regular lavender to me.”
“It’s where the lavender in the oil they use was grown,” he said. “And they were just next to that booth with all the flannels.”
“Don’t remember that one either,” Louis mused.
Harry frowned a little. “I thought you went down that way, though?”
“To be quite honest, love, I was too busy working up the balls to come find you again to pay much attention,” he said sheepishly. Harry just about melted. This man was going to be the death of him, he knew it. He’d have to write a thank you note to Zayn.