The Maid For Styles

Chapter 79

Chloe's POV

It was cold-really fucking cold. The bare skin on my arms was exposed to the harsh winds that whipped against its surface, bringing about a familiar stinging sensation that chilled me to the core. Lou's outfit of choice for me that night wasn't fit for the weather at all, but I tried to find positivity in the fact that it hugged my curvaceous torso brilliantly, and that it was enough to make it all worth it.

We hadn't expected the chilling winds and heavy rainfall at all, due to the mere fact that Niall's birthday (the day earlier) had had a chilly breeze, but the day hadn't been short of sunlight at all, providing even the smallest source of warmth for us. Niall wasn't disappointed with the way the day had turned out, but I was positive it was all due to the countless beers downed at the end of the night. It was needless to say that my morning was then full of a shitload of coffee and painkillers, in hope to rid my body of my hangover, and feel somewhat sober for the boys' album launch.

Excitement bubbled in the pit of my stomach when I thought about the party we were to attend, and the sense of pride for not only my boyfriend, but his band mates, was almost overwhelming. Yet, selfishly, I found myself thinking that the night would've been a perfect one to cuddle up close to Harry in bed, savouring the warmth his body provided me. Either way, I knew the night would issue both Harry and I memorable smiles of elation.

The cold air upon our arrival was similar to a slap in the face. Combining that with the countless flashes from the cameras that paps held in their hands, behind the ropes that security guards stood in front of, I was left thinking that maybe I should have brought a jacket and possibly some glasses to shield my eyes. Having thought about it all too late, I hid my head in the material of Harry's suit and hoped I wouldn't trip up as I walked in ridiculously high heels, towards the entrance of the building.

Harry made quick note of my intentions and gripped my waist tightly, angling his shoulder towards me to give me the extra space to shield my eyes from the bright flashes. His touch comforted me within the first seconds the contact had been initiated and I soon recognised the feeling of relief washing over me, diminishing any previous tension in my muscles. His large hands guided me towards the open doors ahead of us with great caution and a type of protectiveness that occasionally came out to play when need be.

"You right, baby?" He asked me quietly, his long fingers brushing a curled strand of hair from my face and behind my ear. The chaos around us was seemingly drowned out as he spoke, my attention focused solely on him.

"Yeah, I'm okay," my lips turned up into a small smile, providing a second source of proof that I was indeed fine. I'd figured it would've been worse if the sturdy marque that hovered over the red carpet wasn't there, shielding us from the rain-that would've been enough to make me cry in frustration. So, really, I was doing okay.

Apart from the cold air and harsh, chilling winds, the night was working in my favour. I'd managed to stay upright in the shoes that I'd sworn I would topple over in and I had Harry by my side reassuring me through it all. The only worry that nagged me was the overwhelming fact that behind the double doors we were to enter was every celebrity ever to be associated with One Direction. That on its own was enough to make my palms sweat. I couldn't comprehend how a teenager from Australia-a maid from Australia-could possibly mingle with people that had houses working out to be worth more than her own life, but Harry told me after my multiple nervous break-downs that he would be by my side and that they would love me. But, really, he had to say that. If he hadn't, I only would've cried and probably given him a slap to the face.

My mind was racing with the endless list of the people that I'd figured would be in there. "Anyone who's ever been associated with One Direction", had been Simon's words, so I'd spent hours writing a list in the Notes app on my phone of who the boys had ever met or worked with, and, really, it was a lot of fucking people. On the carpet, I'd pretended that it wasn't driving me insane, but in reality, it was like a swarm of butterflies were attempting to push their way through the lining of my stomach, making me feel physically sick. So, I took a large breath and gripped Harry's hand tighter and smiled a cute smile that I hoped would fool everyone around me-including Harry himself.