Dressed in Bruises -H.S.

Six

It felt like it took a long time for him to finish showing me the first floor, but the house was so breathtaking I didn't mind being able to take the time to admire it.

He showed me each and every piece of art he has collected while touring and traveling, he could tell I was fascinated with the subject.

He guided me upstairs and I followed close behind him, the visible hallway wall covered with hung paintings.

"This one I got in france, it's simple but it caught my attention." he spoke while I examined.

There was 5 along the wall that he was describing to me, but by the time we got to the third one in the row, I noticed something that had me baffled.

"That one-" I referred to the one hung at the end of the hallway, the single painting owning the small wall.

I made my way towards it, still taken aback.

"Oh this one, this one is actually one of my favorites, the gallery didn't know the artist and it was donated anonymously. I don't know what it is about it, it felt like it physically pulled me to it. I wish I could find him one day, I absolutely love this one. "

"Well you found him." I spoke in complete shock while admiring the painting I haven't seen in years.

"What do you mean?" he gently grabbed my arm and turned me to him, my eyes finally leaving the canvas.

"This is my painting, my favorite of all that I've done actually ." I laughed at the expression on his face.

"You're Samuel?" he laughed back.

"Samuel?" I chuckled, confused.

"Do you know how many times I've tried to decipher that signature on there? The closest I thought I'd ever get was Samuel." His voice slightly slurred while cracking up.

"Come to find out all along it's Sheryl." he added while sending me a smile.

"You caught me." I smiled back shyly.

"I am astonished, really. How are you so perfect?"

I started blushing.

"I'm serious, I don't mean to make this awkward but you're so talented at almost everything you do and I don't even know you fully."

Not talented when it comes to picking men that hold me back and ruin my life, of course.

"Honestly like what can't you do?" He continued to flatter me.

"Dance." I joked.

His fingers landed on my arm while laughing, the tips were hot against my skin.

"But look who's talking, what can't you do, Mr. Multi Platinum artist?" I flattered him in return.

"Well...I also can't dance."

"Oh, shut up. You're lying." I playfully swatted at his arm.

"Am not, I just pretend to know what I'm doing. I guess I must be able to play it off very well." he shrugged his shoulders.

"Do you want to drink anymore or just go hangout in the sitting room?"

"The sitting room?"

"It's the living room." he smiled at my naive American self.

"I'm down for both. Well, if you are of course. I don't want to have to hold your hair up while you hurl into a toilet." I laughed, not wanting to pressure him into drinking more if he didn't want to.

"If anything it would be me holding your hair, unless you can keep up with me." he pointed his finger at me, the amusement not leaving his face as we started to make our way back down the stairs.

"Shots?" he asked when he arrived at the bar in the kitchen.

"Hell yeah!" I said confidently, hoping I could truly keep up with him. He for sure has more of a social life than I've ever had so he is probably use to drinking like a fish when going out. Whereas, I barely drink once or twice a month.

I watched as he poured 2 shots of clear tequila into two clean shot glasses.

"Ah, my favorite." I smiled.

"Do you have limes?" I added.

"Duh!" he said with a funny feminine tone.

"There is some in the fridge or some over there on the counter, whichever you prefer." he said while twisting the cap back on the bottle.

I grabbed a lime and made my way back over to him.

"Where would I find a knife in here?" I asked him while simultaneously offering to cut it.

Once he handed me one, I sliced the fruit into perfect wedges for us to share.

We both picked up the shot glasses and clinked them together quickly in a 'cheers' motion.

"To co-workers and new friendships." he said with a bright smile.

I repeated the same sentence before we both threw our heads back and let the warm, burning liquid slide down our throats.

We both grabbed a lime wedge and shoved them in our mouths quickly, I noticed him squinting his bloodshot eyes at the sourness.

"Another?" I asked, trying to beat him and prove I can keep up.

He looked down at me with a smirk and said "Damn, okay."

"I mean, that is if you can handle it." I pushed.

"Oh you're on." he challenged with a laugh.

We ended up taking 2 more shots each before making our way to the sofa.

We chatted for about an hour, really enjoying each other's company before our eyes started to get heavy.

I noticed Harry drifting off with his head resting in his hand.

"Do you want to go to sleep?" I asked softly.

He took a sharp breath in and lifted his head, "No, no I'm okay."

"Come on, just admit you can't keep up." I continued the joke.

He shook his head with a small smile and looked down.

"I'm glad we met," he said while lifting his head to look at me. "You're such a genuine person, I really hope you choose to join the team."

"After tonight, you made me feel so comfortable, like I fit right in. I would be crazy not to accept the offer."

"You do fit right in, Sheryl. I one hundred percent feel like I've known you for years, it's baffling to me how you've managed to make me feel so much like myself tonight. I haven't felt treated like an actual human in ages and you just bring so much life out of me." he admitted, my heart swelling at his honesty.

"I'm sorry, I'm drunk and getting sappy. Tour is coming up and I feel so overwhelmed." He chuckled and seemed embarrassed.

"Don't apologize, I'm glad you enjoyed spending time with me, it means a lot to me, I feel the same way. And Please don't worry, you're literally Harry Styles." I sympathetically placed my hand on his ink covered arm.

He looked up at me once again and sent me that heart warming smile.

"Thank you." he spoke.

He stood up and stretched his tired muscles.

"You can stay in the spare bedroom, I'll show you where it's at."

"I would appreciate that." I responded.

I turned on my phone while following him up the stairs, paranoid about what texts, calls, and voicemails were waiting for me.