Life in the middle-Harry Styles Fanfic AU COMPLETED

Chapter 10

The rest of the week come around fast. The owner of the art piece I completed, picked it up on Friday and was more then happy to pay me a bonus.
The weekend was just that, slow and boring, grocery shopping, drawing up some new concepts and loads of Sitcoms.
And for some insane reasons, several calls from a private number. It did leave me wondering who it was and I was shocked with myself that I cared.

Thursday night I showed up at the group meeting and I admit, I took a little more time getting ready and even using a little gloss on my already full lips.
Why bother my dark friend questioned? La la la la la I sing and I lock up the house hoping to drown out my thoughts.

The meeting starts and ends quickly and I can't help getting agitated at the fact that Harry didn't show. I don't bother asking Pete, it's not my place and why do I care? That night I go home and draft a 3x3 canvas of dazzling green eyes, drafts of fingers and plump lips with dimples.

Thursday seems a lot like Wednesday, only difference was I had Michael come on to me while I was make a coffee before the meeting started.
He asked me if I wanted to party with him on the weekend? I felt like slapping him and telling Pete, Michael is in no way ready to be in this group. He hasn't surrender to the fact that he has a mental illness and needs support.
I zone out as Pete starts and again Harry is a no show. This time, I fidget, tapping my legs and moving around in my chair so much that Pete asks if there is something wrong. I answer no and try and sit in my hands for the rest of the meeting.
I do that well, give my goodnights, I have Misty bail me up about the new good looking man that was here last week and how she'd like to take him home and teach him a few tricks.
I give her a glare and she looks away, leaving me alone and head home.

I shower and put on some comfortable pyjamas and warm socks.
I fall asleep on the couch watching Resurrection. My dreams are filled with emerald eyes, long thin finger interlaced with mine and a heat I can't ignore. The hotness wakes me and I pull off a layer off the top leaving me in a left with a singlet.
It's winter and here I am roasting like a chestnut in my sleep. I get up and walk to bed calling Jinx the only male I can depend on, but even he is being difficult. I close my eyes.

When I open them again it's morning and my phone is buzzing, I grab it and swear to myself. Private flashes on the screen, "you've got to be kidding me" I say aloud and press end call on my phone.
Less then 30 seconds later, my phone buzzes again, same screen flashing at me.
It's Sunday morning, who would be calling me now? I question.

All my professional calls are made on a landline with a answering machine so I don't miss and potential clients. But there are only a small amount of people that have my number and they all know the private calls won't be answered.
I like to know who is calling me so I can ready myself for the call.
This prevents me getting any shocks if my mother calls me to dump any emotional shit on me. It's my safe guard.
The phone rings again and I ignore it, don't even look at it, turning my coffee maker on is more important that this serial caller. In a few minutes I'm snuggled on the couch coffee in hand and tv remote in the other, when I hear my intercom buzz.