Thunder

Chapter 1

Chapter One

I swaddled myself in the warmth of the Christmas coffee which I had ordered, a touch to early some have argued but I didn’t care. I had kept my mittens on after turning my palms pink after wrapping them round the hot cup.

The store was crowded; every table was almost full with laughing and chattering people animated by the smell and taste of coffee which not only resided in their cups but in the air as well. But I sat alone, invested in my book, which I read more than I drank the coffee which I had ordered.

I glanced over the top of my book as a crowd of bulky men and women all looking round them frantically. I ignored them and read on in my book. My phone made a vibrating noise and I glanced at it where it lay on the table:

One New Message

Darren

The phone read. Sighing, I unlocked the screen:

Home tomorrow babe

I smiled, slightly happier now; the apartment had seemed cold and unwelcoming since Darren had left, but he would be home tomorrow, and things could go back to normal.

This past year had been so crazy; I had met Darren when I was sixteen, this is when I had lived in Ireland, after his parents died, he had to move back to London, and I chose to go with him, because I loved him, he studied at university, while I stayed at home and tried to concentrate on finding out what I was supposed to do in life, a plan that was yet to formulate. I quickly tapped Darren a reply, conveying my happiness at his soon return.

I was sitting there for a while when I finally noticed someone standing across the table from me.

I looked up at him; he was a tall boy with pale skin. His skin was dotted with spots which had clearly been agonised over again and again. He had pink lips which were stretched into a sheepish smile, revealing perfect white teeth. He had piercing green eyes with long eyelashes peeking out from his eyelids. He clearly had a mop of hair but it had been shoved back under a washed out beanie hat with daring hairs venturing out from underneath it.

He had a large hand which rested on the table, it emerged from an oversized knitted jumper and an expensive looking watch rested upon his wrist. This had tattooed across it, ‘I Can’t Change.’

‘Umm…Hi.’ Harry said awkwardly, flexing his fingers.

‘Hi,’ I replied trying to contain my shock. I sat there unaware that I was staring at him.

‘There are no seats…’ he said, tilting his orange drink to the rest of the room and looking awkwardly at the seat in front of him.

‘No…’ I said breathlessly, before remaining silently. He looked at me cocking his head slightly as if unsure what to do, ‘Oh, yes sit down.’ I said hurriedly.

He gave a deep chuckle and pulled the chair out gently; he sat down and then extended his arm across the table to me.

‘Harry,’ he offered. I extended my arm forward and hit him with my book as I had forgotten to sit it down.

‘Sorry,’ I stuttered, sitting down my book and knocking my phone across the table with my elbow.

It span across the table landing in Harry’s lap before lighting up and vibrating, Harry gave a laugh as he removed the illuminating phone from his crotch.

‘I think it likes me.’ He said showing me the phone. I gave a nervous laugh as he held it out to me. ‘Wait,’ he said looking at my home screen, his eyebrows knitting together and a small smile playing on his lips. It was a picture of him. In his underwear. Shaving his legs.

He cocked his head at it and I snapped it off him in a hurry, fumbling with in my mittens. I felt my cheeks reddening.

‘Thanks.’ I mumbled, not meeting his eyes.

‘So, what’s your name?’ He asked his eyes friendly.

‘January.’ I said, my accent coming through thick.

‘Irish?’ He asked me, I nodded, ‘I have an Irish friend,’ he commented his eyes twinkling.

‘I know.’ I laughed, looking down, before looking up again, finally meeting his eyes for more than ten seconds.

‘I’m Harry Styles, by the way,’ he laughed, ‘I didn’t mention my surname before.’

‘You didn’t have to, I’m Bellame.’ I blurted, ‘Like my surname, it’s January no Bellame. I’m January Bellame.’

‘So what gave me away?’ he asked relaxing in his seat. I was surprised he hadn’t went running for the hills when he had realised I was a fan.

I pointed at his wrist, ‘I can’t change.’

‘I bet you know all my tattoos.’ He joked.

‘Well you get a new one everyday, so it’s hard to keep up,’ I countered.

‘Oh burn,’ he mocked.

‘Don’t start, I can sell a story to the mirror now, but you know they mightn’t believe you even approached me, because I’m under 40.’ I placed my hand on my chest in mock distress.

‘Oh fuck off, she was 32.’ He laughed.

‘I thought you and Caroline were just friends or are we talking about the married one?’ I raised an eyebrow at him.

‘And the gloves are off.’ He laughed, raising his drink to his lips.

‘I call it like I see it.’ I said, my shyness gone, mimicking him, as I took a sip from my own drink

My phone buzzed again, ‘someone’s eager,' Harry commented, ‘Daily Mirror?’ he asked.

‘My boyfriend.’ I told him haughtily.

‘Poor bloke.’ He said looking up and crossing his arms, I flicked out my foot and caught him on the shin, blushing as soon as I realised I had just kicked Harry Styles in the shin.

‘If he knew who I was with he’d be reeling,’ I murmured as I punched in a reply, trying to pretend that kicking him was an accident.

‘The Womanizer strikes again.’ Harry laughed.

‘Apparently so, except I’m not easy prey.’ I joked.

Harry looked at me momentarily; he raised a straw to his lips. ‘Do you think he would mind if we were friends?’ He asked me.

I thought for a moment, ‘no, but I might.’ I said.

‘Oh don’t start that,’ he laughed, throwing his head back, his beanie coming slightly loose on his head, ‘this is fucking fan-fiction being written right now.’

‘If that were true, we’d be in the shower or something right now.’ I mused, taking another sip from my drink.

‘Steamy.’ Harry said, ‘so can we be friends?’ He asked me, his eyes staring me down.

‘I think I’d be exiled from Twitter if I said no right now, well actually I should be exiled for just having a boyfriend.’ I said pensively.

‘Well here’s my number,’ he said tossing a card across the table.

‘You have a card.’ I raised my eyebrows, before ducking into my bag and pulling out a wad of sticky notes, and scribbled my number down on it.

  He plucked it out of my fingers, ‘oh look it says on the bottom, ‘Mrs. January Styles.’’ I tried to grab it back from him. ‘I’ll text you so we can hang and you can bring your boyfriend next time.’

‘Sure,’ I said coolly.

‘It doesn’t really say Mrs. January Styles.’ He told me as he walked out the door.