Just A Little Bit Of Your Heart

Heart Part 3. Inside The Drawer

A.N.
Just a short note. Harry is still in his lhh era in this story. Hope you're liking it so far.. Happy Reading !

A R I A N A

I pace around the office, my heart still pounding in my chest. I stumble at my own feet once in a while, fortunately no longer falling face-first onto the ground. My head turns to look at the wall clock and quickly scramble to my desk, desperate to go home and just hide under my covers. My eyes wander around the room and sigh as I look at the mess on Mr. Styles' desk. It's not like he asked me to clean up after him but I figured that I should at least have that initiative after my disastrous meeting with him just hours ago.

My feet slowly led me to his desk and I could feel the sweat forming on my back. I gulp, second-guessing my actions but I was already reaching for the papers and immediately began stacking them all up. I skim through a few of them to check if I had organized them right and accordingly. How come he composes and dresses so well but his desk is a complete mess?

I fix a few things that have toppled over his desk. I gather the pencils and pens on his desk and a few that have fallen on the floor before placing them inside a small container. I grabbed the now neatly stacked pieces of paper and decided to place them inside a drawer for safe-keeping.

I'll just tell Mr. Styles about it tomorrow, I thought to myself.

Pulling the drawer open, my eyebrows furrow in confusion at the sight. A natural filament rope, masking tape, and cable ties. I never thought of Mr. Styles as the handyman type, maybe he's thinking of immersing himself in the field of decorating as well?

I shrug and carefully shut the drawer back into its place. After grabbing ahold of my things, I race for the large mahogany wooden doors. I briskly walk through the now empty lobby, frowning at the missed chance of asking my kind blonde colleague's name. What was her name again? Georgia? God, I'm so bad at this.

The elevator arrives and I enter, my heel tapping against the metal floor as I take a deep breath. I brace myself once the elevator arrives on the ground floor. In an instant, I step out as soon as the doors slide open. I almost sprawl onto the immaculate marble floor but was able to compose myself as I pass through the lobby and out of the wide glass doors.

Suddenly, I felt I could finally breathe in the cleansing cold air of London. Raising my face, I welcome the cool, refreshing drizzle. I take another purifying breath as I try to recover what's left from my dignity.

No man has ever affected me the way Harry Styles has and I can't seem to fathom as to why. Is it his looks? His gallantry? Power and wealth? I just can't comprehend my foolish reaction. What in god's name was that all about anyway?

Sighing in relief as I lean against my car door. I tried my best to compose myself as I shook my head to rid myself of embarrassing thoughts. Once I felt my heartbeat had slowly steadied itself back into its regular rhythm, I finally open the car door.

As I drive through the busy streets, I began to feel ridiculous as my mind replays the earlier events in the Styles building. I have to admit that he is indeed rather attractive. Okay, extremely attractive, confident, and at ease with himself. However, he is cold, arrogant, and a bit of a control freak. He has a right to be arrogant though especially with all he has accomplished at such a young age and I'm sure there's a profound reason as to why he acts like the way he does. He's very intriguing.

A shiver runs down through my spine as my mind drifts back to the somewhat tools I found in Mr. Styles' office drawer. I hiss and blame it on the now pouring rain that made it even colder than it already was. Despite my desperate attempt to put an end to it, my mind continues to wander as I shudder at the brief memory of asking him whether he was gay or not. I still can't believe I said that and the ground wasn't even kind enough to swallow me whole. That will surely imprint itself in my brain and I'll cringe every time in embarrassment.