Evie | H.S |

35. Hungover

"I'm getting old, Eve" Harry declared as we sat at the breakfast nook. Empty plates of syrup and pancake crumbs sat before us.

I'd pulled my laptop out to get a little bit of work done after we had finished with breakfast. Harry sat with me, scrolling through his phone quietly to keep me company.

"Why is that, my dear?" I asked, looking over my screen towards him.

He placed his phone down to adjust the small clip he had in his hair. "You know how when we were like nineteen and people would be like 'oh you won't be able to drink like that after twenty five'?"

"Yeah?" I sat back in my seat, combing my fingers back through my hair and raised a brow, curious to his direction here.

"I understand what they mean now, I'm not feeling too sprightly".

I laughed dryly and returned to my laptop. "The red wine?"

"Yeah I think so" he confirmed.

"I get it" I empathised, "after twenty five, it was all over for me".

"How did we do it?" he uttered, leaning forward. His fingertips danced over the tabletop like he was playing piano. It was quite cute.

"No idea" I murmured, returning my focus on the boring GANTT chart before me.

It was a strange feeling trying to focus on work when I had Harry Styles sitting a mere three feet away from me. Between emails and back and forth work chats, my eyes would glance over at him.

His unruly hair was clipped back from his face. Sequin and rhinestone Gucci get-ups had been replaced with a loose white Keith Haring T-shirt and black corduroy slacks. The sunlight filtering through the linen curtains behind him highlighted his golden tan. Dreamy.

Focus, Evie.

I got back to mapping out an upcoming project for work, furrowing my brow as I tried to pull focus for longer than three minutes.

As I stopped typing, I could hear Harry drumming his fingertips along the table before him. A little irritating. I inhaled to centre myself.

Focus now, play later.

I continued working but...

Tap tap tap

Open palms were now drumming the surface. I shot my gaze his way, silently willing him to stop. He was like an annoying child.

"Sorry, sorry!" He apologised, a pearly white grin and dimples flashed at me.

Ok, back to my screen. I'd written maybe half a sentence when he started blowing raspberries.

Infuriating!

"Do you fucking mind?" I half-laughed, "some of us are trying to work here".

"Yeah, sorry" he said quietly, zipping his lips shut in a mime-like motion.

'Thank you' I mouthed silently, once again composing myself to get some work done.

After a few moments he piped up again. "Boop, boop, boop", he made meaningless noises that served no purpose other than to annoy me, I gathered.

"Can you shut the fuck up?" I snapped, totally exasperated. Looking back up at him, his lips had curled into a cheeky smirk, dimples drilled into either side of his face. "Why don't you go out and sit in the sun. Go touch some grass or something".

"Go touch some grass or something" he mimicked sassily, trying to nail my accent. "You know what?" He stood and spoke matter-of-a-factly, the expression on his face reeked of being a smart-ass. "I'll go do that".