Floss // A Harry Styles AU

eleven

On Wednesday when I got to the garage there was already someone waiting on the forecourt outside. I didn't recognise him as local, and he was leaning against the side of his blue Lamborghini Huracan with his arms folded and a pair of sunglasses on that looked too big for his face.

I parked in my usual place out of the way of everything else and stepped out of the car, feeling much less glamorous than he looked.

"Good morning," I said to him with an expectant expression, but went straight to the garage door to unlock it.

He seemed taken back by my genuine greeting. He looked at his watch and then back at me. "Are you always this tardy?"

I frowned. "I don't know what that means."

The strange man pushed away from his car and made his way towards me. Meanwhile, I tussled with the garage door until it finally gave in.

"Are you always this late?"

I looked at him, offended by his question. Up this close I noticed things I couldn't see before. He was an older man but not old, maybe in his late thirties or early forties. I only guessed this from the salt and pepper hairs around his ears. He had a very square face, but in a kind of attractive way, and when he took his glasses off I found a very blue pair of eyes. He was dressed smartly, in a white dress shirt not buttoned all the way up, and black tailored suit trousers. He looked exactly like the type of person who would drive a blue Lamborghini.

Before I could respond to his rude question, he made a comment that confused me.

"Wow." He said, taking a step back when I tried to stand straighter.

"What?" I asked with a furrowed brow, but moved towards the buttons on the side of the doorway to finish opening the garage door. It was loud while I did, too loud to hear a man speak.

The stranger's gaze flicked between me and the ascending garage door, trying not to express his amusement.

I waited for him to finally say what was so... wow, trying not to appear as irritated as I was.

"You're very beautiful."

I blinked at him. I couldn't see how that had anything to do with me being late. "What's your point?"

Now he looked confused. "I... don't have a point."

I took a deep breath. "Okay," I said around my exhale, and turned away from him to get Bongo out of the car. He was sitting in the window when I reappeared with a cocked head, and it was quite cute.

"How long will it take to sort the car?" The weird man asked, following me as I walked Bongo through to the office.

"Well, I'd need to know what's wrong with it first."

"There's nothing wrong with it, it just needs a service."

"Right," I rolled my eyes, but he couldn't see me do it. I settled Bongo down in his bed and then found a form for the customer to fill out. "It usually takes a few hours."

"So I'll have it back soon? Like, today soon?"

I stared at him blankly, and looked out into the crammed garage, and then back to him. "Not today, no."

"Why not?"

"Because all those cars in the garage have actual things wrong with them and they've been waiting longer."

"I can pay you more to prioritise it. Money is no issue."

Must be nice.

I gave him another perplexed stare. "If you're so keen to get it done, why didn't you take it to an actual Lamborghini garage?"