NUMINOUS | Harry Styles

EIGHT

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Vera could no longer ignore the shift in Harry's demeanor. The tension he carried around him was palpable, like a storm cloud. Whenever she asked him if everything was alright, he would brush it off with a curt "I'm fine." But Vera could tell he wasn't.

Despite his insistence, she knew him well enough by now to see that something was off. Yet, even with this underlying strain between them, they had undeniably grown closer.

She wasn't entirely sure when it had happened. Maybe it started around the time he began gifting her those random plants that now adorned every corner of her home.

The plants were atypical, with unique shapes and textures that she hadn't seen before. Vera wasn't particularly knowledgeable about plants, but even she could tell these were some unusual plants.

Now, it's been about a month since they met, Harry's presence at the bookstore had become a regular part of her day. It was no longer surprising to see him there, sometimes even twice in a day. What had once been an oddity was now routine, so much so that it felt strange when he didn't show up.

What intrigued her, though, was how he started coming closer to closing time. He would often arrive just as she was about to lock up, not in search of a book, but seemingly just to spend time with her. There was something comforting about his quiet presence.

It wasn't like Harry to just admit he wanted to be around, but Vera could tell that's what it was. She could feel it in the way he lingered after most of the customers had left, offering to help close up the shop without ever being asked. She appreciated it—Harry's quiet presence made the end of the day feel less lonely.

One evening, just before closing, Harry strolled in, his usual air of nonchalance masking whatever thoughts lingered behind his eyes. The shop was quiet, with only the sound of the ticking of the clock filling the space.

As she prepared to close up, he lingered near the counter, not saying much, just watching as she began her nightly routine. Harry's hands were tucked into his pockets, eyes subtly following her movements. He hadn't said much since he came in, which wasn't unusual for him

"Need any help?" He asked, his voice casual, but with an underlying tone that suggested he was already planning to assist whether she agreed or not.

"Hm, no," Vera replied lightly with a smile. "I just need to put these books away and sweep up. I'm all good."

Harry, however, didn't seem to take the hint. With a shrug, he picked up a stack of books from the counter, eyeing them briefly before heading toward the fiction section. "I don't mind." His tone leaving little room for argument.

She chuckled softly, watching him head for the shelves. "You're really determined to get out of here fast, huh?" She teased, heading to the backroom to grab a few more items for cleaning.

When she returned, only a few minutes later, she froze mid-step. All the books that had been piled high on the counter were now neatly shelved, perfectly organized. Not one book was out of place.

Her eyes darted to the fiction section, expecting to see Harry still sorting through the stack, but instead, there he was, standing casually with a faintly sheepish smile playing on his lips.

"Wait... what?" Vera blinked, completely bewildered. She stared at the shelves, then at Harry, who avoided her gaze for a second/

"How did you—?" Vera began, still processing the impossibility of what she was seeing. There was no way he could've shelved all those books that quickly, not unless he had some kind of superhuman speed. She had only been gone for a few minutes, and yet the store looked like it had been tidied up by an entire team.

Harry interrupted her with a nonchalant wave of his hand. "I, uh, work fast," he muttered, the corner of his mouth lifting into a half-smile.

"Fast?" Vera repeated, staring at him like he'd just grown a second head. "That was beyond fast. I was gone for what? Five minutes?"

"Seven," he corrected, voice smug but his eyes flickering with something guarded. He turned his attention away from her as if he was trying to avoid further questioning.

Vera frowned, puzzled by how quickly he had managed to get everything in order. She couldn't recall seeing him move from his spot, and yet the work was already done. "You're fast," she remarked, trying to keep the conversation light.

"You've got to tell me your secret," Vera pressed, her tone playful.

Harry just shrugged again, his smile turning slightly mysterious. "I guess I've gotten used to the place."

It happened again a few nights later.

They were closing up, and Vera needed to sweep the floor. As usual, Harry lingered around, hovering in the background, always ready to help. So of course, Harry, ever the helpful visitor, offered to split the work.

"I'll help," Harry said, grabbing a second broom before she could protest.

"Oh, you don't have to..." Vera began, but he had already started on his half of the floor. She sighed, giving up the argument, and focused on her own task.

Barely a few minutes passed when she looked up and stopped dead in her tracks.

Harry was done. Completely finished. His broom was already leaning neatly against the wall, and he stood there casually, as if he hadn't just cleaned the entire front of the shop in the blink of an eye. The floor gleamed, not a speck of dust or dirt in sight.

Vera frowned, glancing down at her own small patch of floor, which looked woefully unfinished in comparison. "You're... already done?" she asked, blinking in disbelief.

"Yep," Harry replied, as though it were the most normal thing in the world. He gave her that same sheepish smile, the one that always seemed to say there's more to this than I'm letting on.

But tonight, it bothered her more than usual.

"How...?" Vera shook her head, her brow furrowed. "I've barely just started, and you—"

Harry shrugged, as though the explanation didn't matter. "Just quick on my feet, I guess."

Quick on his feet? No one was that quick, not unless they were some kind of supernatural entity, and that thought alone made Vera's mind spin. She opened her mouth to press him, to demand how he always managed to do these impossible things.

But before she could get the words out, Harry gave her a casual wave and disappeared out the door.

"See you tomorrow, Vera," he called over his shoulder, as if nothing out of the ordinary had just happened.

Vera stood there for a long moment, staring after him, utterly bewildered.

Her grip tightened on her broom as she replayed the scene in her head. He had barely started sweeping, and the next second, he was finished. It was as if... No, that was ridiculous.

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