The Counselor (h.s. au)

VIII

*one week later*

I lay awake in bed, thinking of the viridescent green eyes I see so often. This weeks sessions went well, we discussed many of his childhood memories, and I went out and bought him a stress ball. He says the sessions have been helping him find himself, and find peace- which is exactly why I this occupation is fit for me.

We haven't kissed since our trip to the museum, which is good. If I want to continue to see him while also keeping my job, it needs to stay that way.

I looked over at my windowsill, the sunlight touching the petals of a large purple flower- in fact, the one Harry had plucked for me at the museum. He surprised me with it the day after we went to the museum. He said he noticed how much I liked it so he picked one and put it in a small glass vase for me. I honestly really appreciated it, and somehow every time I looked at it, I saw his pink plump lips and his gleaming green irises.

I smiled and rolled over on my side, unplugging my phone from its charger and unlocking it to read an unread message.

Harold Styles:
6:43 AM-
Do you have Snapchat?

Why was Harry awake at 6 AM? And better yet, why does a 28 year old man want my snapchat?

Lennon Primm:
10:08 AM-
Yes.. Why?

I shouldn't even be texting Harry as much as I do, let alone sending him photos. It's very unprofessional.

I rolled out of bed and onto my feet, slipping on my ducky slippers and striding into the kitchen for some tea. I placed the tea pot on the stove, waiting for it to heat up.

My phone buzzed and I looked down, noticing Harry texted me back.

Harold Styles:
10:10 AM-
You're awake. And because, I would like to snapchat you.(:

Debating on whether or not to give him my snapchat, someone rings my doorbell.

"One minute!" I call out and quickly type in my snapchat username before pressing send. Somehow I was going to regret this.

Without checking the peephole, I swing the door open and am shocked to see a very pristine Margot Winston standing at my doorstep. My hands immediately dart to my t-shirt and frog printed shorts clad body, covering it up in my purple robe. She glared at me, eyeing my attire up and down.

"Hello." She raised her chin and straightened her collar, pushing her way inside without welcome.

"I see you weren't expecting company." She sniffed the air and then pinched her nose.

"Ugh, what is that God-awful stench?" She fanned her face as if trying to waft the smell away.

"Oh that's just the stove, it smells like it's burning sometimes because crums fall down in the-"

She cut me off. "Will you open a window? I'm about to start gagging," She began dramatically coughing and I quickly shuffled over and opened the living room windows.

"So, why exactly are you here?" I asked, trying not to sound rude but failing.

"I came to collect records and documents you've gathered so far from your sessions with Mr. Styles." She paused, picking up a photo frame of me and my parents on vacation before sighing and setting it back down.

"Oh yes, one second." I rushed to my room grabbing my pink binder and clipboard and handing it to her.

"Nice work, Ms Primm. I see you noted you're seeing progress." She peered between her pin straight blonde locks at the paperwork and I gulped.