𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐬 〖 𝐰/ 𝐡𝐚𝐳 𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐢𝐞𝐥𝐝 〗

〖 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐮𝐭 〗

An incoming call illuminated the screen of y/n's phone five minutes after the text came through. The contact spread across the screen was the same and Harrison's jaw locked in slight resentment. Y/n flinched as the device vibrated and rang obnoxiously in her lap, a grumble escaped her lips but she didn't lift her head off of Harrison's shoulder, she just took the phone and brought it close to her face, eyes squinting to read the ID.

With a huff, she rejected the call and dropped her hand back onto her lap, face nuzzling on the blonde's shirt for a few seconds before she froze. In a second she was sat straight, wide eyes blinking up at him and even in the dark, he could see embarrassment written all over her face. She looked away and scooted closer to the window even though there was no space to put between them. He saw her made herself small, eyes glancing out into the moving city.

He wanted to say something, anything but the longer he thought about it the less he knew what to say so he just kept quiet and averted his gaze from her down to his phone that had just buzzed with a new notification.

No one spoke until they were outside y/n's flat and it was something neither Harrison nor y/n had expected. "Okay. I'm calling an emergency meeting," Marcella sighed, eyeing y/n and Harrison up.

"What? When? For what?"

"Right now. For you to get to know him better." The woman said, hands clasped together in front of her. Y/n was starting to protest when the publicist stopped her. "Dear, you blanked out when Aimee asked you in what has he been in! You know nothing about each other other than your names!"

There was a long and painful silence where Marcella and y/n stared at each other, leaving Harrison and Darcy to bounced their gazes back and forth between the two. "Fine. Let's go inside." Y/n grumbled taking off to the entrance to lead the way inside. The four of them lined up in the thin hallway, y/n at the very front of the line walking a few metres into the building before coming to a stop by the first door to the left where she fumbled with the lock for a bit then pushed the door open.

Harrison followed the women in, copying them when they all kicked their shoes off by the front door. Taking the place in as he slowly walked further inside. The place wasn't big, just enough for one person to live comfortably and he had to admit it didn't look like it belong to y/n at all. It was a loafed flat, and the ground floor was littered with plants: on the floor, windowsill, shelves and hanging from the walls. Art, horror movie posters and photography dotted the place along with all sorts of trinkets.

"I'll get drinks," Darcy said once y/n plopped on the L-shaped sofa. "Harrison? Beer?" She asked making Harrison stop looking around the flat to look at her. He nodded his head affirmatively as Mar invited him to sit down with y/n while she took a seat on the chair off to his left. "Here you go." Darcy handed them all a bottle as she passed through ultimately plopping down on the far right next to y/n.

There was silence, awkward and long silence. "Mark called." Y/n was the one who spoke. The information was just thrown in the air, for no one in particular. "On the way here, he called." Her feet were tucked under her and vision focused on the book covered coffee table. "He texted too."

"Ugh, what does he want now?" Darcy said with an eye roll. Y/n fumbled with her phone and handed it to her friend. Harrison swallowed at the reminder of the text he unintentionally read, the words resurfacing and nagging at him. Of course, the "who the fuck is that nobody your dragging around now?" could only come from someone like Mark Fender. He took a swing from his beer just to wash away the lump that had formed in his throat as he sunk into the softness of the purple, velvety sofa. "Oh, someone's keeping up with the news." Darcy chuckled. "Thirty bloody years old and he still can't spell."