Harry sat on top of Haley's counter, loudly munching on potato chips as he watched her flit around the kitchen putting the finishing touches on the dinner she was preparing for the two of them. Salty fingers swiped his shirt, sending a shower of crumbs onto his jeans. She was just about to confiscate the crunchy snack when her doorbell rang.
"Are we expecting another guest tonight?"
"Not that I'm aware of," Haley frowned, her heart racing. Whenever someone was at the door unannounced, it kicked her anxiety into high gear. The last time someone came over unannounced, it had been Zayn... and that had ended in disaster.
Forcing herself to look cool and collected as to not worry Harry, she smoothed her shaking hands over the cotton of her t-shirt as she walked to the door. Peeking through the peephole, she steeled herself for the worst and saw-
Chris fucking Evans.
Glancing down at herself, she cursed under her breath. She looked like a mess. She was wearing her old Pittsburgh Penguins shirt, faded beyond belief, and a pair of blue biker shorts that admittedly didn't really go with the shirt. And there was likely a sauce stain somewhere since she was a messy cook.
Opening the door, she peered at him. It wasn't fair that he managed to look like that in just a pair of jeans and a hoodie, and he was holding flowers for some reason- pink peonies, of all flowers. "Chris. You couldn't text before you decided to just drop by?"
"I..." Chris began, his eyes narrowing as Harry shuffled into view behind her. God, he was the nosiest person she knew.
"Haley, did you invite a man over?" Harry asked, as if this were the most preposterous idea in the world.
"Harold, can you just- I- can you give me a minute?" She huffed, feeling flustered and swatting at him with her hands. The rush of anxiety from before made her feel jittery and like her voice was much louder than it needed to be. "Go do something productive."
"Sheesh, woman. I'll go set the table. And pour that fancy looking wine." Harry responded with a wink, giving Chris an openly curious gaze before he spun around and walked away. Once he was out of view, she turned back to Chris.
"Why are you here?"
"Forget it. I'll leave you to your date." Chris snapped, glancing down at the flowers he was holding before giving them to her, albeit forcefully. She took them awkwardly, blinking at him before looking down at the bouquet.
"Harry is not my date. Men and women can be just friends, you should know." She rolled her eyes at him. He couldn't seriously be daft enough to think that she was dating Harry.
He didn't respond to that, his look inscrutable as his eyes met hers. She suddenly felt incredibly self-conscious, absentmindedly scratching at her cheek in hopes the sauce stain wasn't actually on her face.
When he didn't fill the silence, she spoke, "Did you want something?"
"I just wanted to talk, do you have a minute?"
She really wanted to say no, because the last thing she wanted was a conversation with him. But alas, being polite won out. "Come in. I have to finish something in the kitchen, if you don't mind."
Out of the corner of her eye, she could see him assessing his surroundings as they walked through her living area into the kitchen. This was the first time he'd ever been in her place without Emmeline, and she'd done some redecorating to make things more homey.
Oh no. Emmeline. A new wave of anxiety hit her as she realized that Chris and Harry were both in her home. Chris, who had no idea Emmeline and Harry were a thing (and would likely do that whole stupid macho big brother thing when he found out) and then Harry, who couldn't keep his mouth shut to save his life.
