Grace's POV
"No, I want to watch The Giver. We've watched dirty dancing like four thousand times!" Isabella whines.
"Please, Isabella!" I plead. "You picked last time!"
"No!" She argues.
"Okay, fine if we watch The Giver then you have to get up and be the popcorn and drink refill-er" I barter.
"Fine." She happily states, putting the disk in the DVD player.
"Hold on let me get my phone." I walk to my bedroom. Isabella and I had just got back from a shoot and a dinner with our manager. I then walk over to my dresser, changing from my jeans, to some shorts. I then throw my white blonde hair into a messy bun to get it out of my face.
"Grace!" Isabella yells.
I walk out of my room and turn a left from around the corner. "What?" I groan.
I look up and see Isabella standing with the door wide open, with a look of surprise and confusion on her face. "I think it's for you." I look beyond the white doorway to lock eyes with a tall frame, with green-blue eyes, and a mop of curls tied neatly in a bun.
"Harry?" I say with the same look that Isabella must have had not but 2 seconds ago.
"Grace, Grace Howard?" He asks examining my face, "You're the one who threw the journal, right?"
"Uh- yea- yeah." I stutter, in shock.
"Wow, it's really you." He continues to examine me but moving to my body.
"Yeah, how did you find out where I lived?" I furrow my eyebrows in confusion.
"There was a torn piece of an envolope with your address on it." His eyes light up looking at mine.
"Oh."
"Can we just talk?" Harry almost pleads.
I look to Isabella and she has her eyes as wide as ever and mouthing the word "go."
"Uh, yeah sure, just right out here." I point to right outside my door. I was in complete shock, Harry is asking me to talk. Harry hunted me down. How did that paper get there anyhow? I step out into the hall of my condo complex, looking down at my feet and softly shutting the door, leaving Harry and I alone in the hall.
"So?" I giggle awkwardly.
"So." Harry smiles, shyly itching his head. "I've been waiting months to meet you, I've rehearsed what I was going to say over and over, but now that I'm here, with you, I sort of feel like an idiot."
"Why's that?" I laugh looking up, meeting Harry's beautiful eyes. The last times I looked into those eye were at the concert months ago.
"All I planned on saying has just gone out the window." He chuckles deeply.
"That's okay, that means it will just be organic." I smile.
"I read your journal." He starts, "I got to the end and this piece of paper fell out, luckily I read it." He hands me a small torn piece of paper with a little fragment of my address on it.
"When did you finish it?" I ask.
"Just tonight." He answers.
"Slow reader?" I joke, with a laugh.
He chuckles "No, I had been reading it off and on throughout these past few months. You wrote quite alot."
"So you dropped everything tonight to come and meet me in by pathetic running shorts and messy bun?" I smirk.
"You look nice." He smiles, wetting his pink lips with his tongue.
"Hah, nice one." I laugh, sarcasm in my tone.
"You look beautiful." He blurts.
I couldn't help but feel my face turn hot and red.
I've never had a guy call me beautiful before- I liked it.
"How has life been, lately?" He asks, trying to avoid embarrassment.
"Same old. Work, you know how it is." I shrug.
"That's right, you're a model." He nods. Wow he really did read that journal.
"Yeah." I smile. "And you're an artist." I giggle. "We're just watching a movie, you can come in if you want?"
"That'd be great."
