Ardent ; h.s.

007

Robin

"Where are you taking me?". Harry continued with an annoying silence, ignoring all my questions centered around the unknown location.

All the information he gave me knowledge of was about the gray car he's driving, it's Jeff's.

Are we going to Jeff's house?

Other than a hotel suite, Jeff's humble abode is the only other place I can assume where Harry could be staying.

The tinted windows are rolled up encasing Harry and I in the warmth of the car. My vision is focused on all of the structures built in New York. A beautiful city. A hell of a lot of traffic.

Just a few minutes into the car ride I take notice of how he drives. One hand on the wheel, black sunglasses resting on his nose bridge, hiding his enticing green eyes from the world. No matter how many times his large hand runs through his hair, it manages to fall back in a new position, perfectly tousled. The rings on his fingers compliment his hands, along with the pink chipped nail polish he has on.

Harry Styles. I hate to say it, but why are you so handsome? Did you have to be this attractive everyday?

It's amusing really. Who knew a horrible accident and would lead to a decent memory aside from being known as "new woman". Although there's nothing brewing between Harry and I, which is in contradiction to the magazines, I enjoyed being within his company. I enjoyed hearing him talk about the most mundane things. We know nothing in detail regarding each other's childhood lives, memories, or as simple as our favorite foods, yet I could talk to him concerning the deepest parts of my life.

He comes across as open, amiable.

"What's on your mind?", he broke the pleasant silence. Harry claimed that comfortable silence is overrated.

However in these moments of tranquility and stillness, this new way I felt seemed to sprout along with the sweet nothings of my thoughts concerning Harry.

"Just some things about work". I lied.

You, Harry, but I won't tell you that. How embarrassing would that be? I'm too sober to be bold enough and tell the green eyed god that he consumed my thoughts currently.

"How is work?".

"Are you genuinely asking or just trying to make conversation?".

"Well how am I supposed to make conversation with a lovely woman like you and not be interested in what you do?", he turned to me and tilted his head down, his green eyes staring into my coffee colored ones.

He thinks I'm lovely.

The minute those words left his mouth my stomach fluttered. I felt like I was in some teenage movie gushing over a boy, laying stomach down on my bed, legs kicking up and down on my bed. Not a good sign.

"Work is - it's good. The nurses do so much it honestly amazes me, the other doctors as well. Of course it can be overwhelming, and comes with its challenges, it's expected", I turned to look at him after I spoke fumbling with my naked fingernails in contrast to his pink ones.

He nodded his head, eyes on the crowded road. "Do you ever feel trapped? I mean you went back to the hospital on your day off", he lightly laughed, I sighed thinking.

"As of right now, no. Each day I go into work I see new faces, some the same. I like the rush of not knowing what I'm about to walk into or who", we both turned our heads at the last part, he smiled.