(DISCONTINUED)

○ 1.8 :: Duh ○

Dedicated to Rosa (@Hayesgrier1111) from Iran bc she's sweet and it makes me happy when she asks me to update.

*

Suddenly, the world around me was spinning and there was no oxygen. I was positively frozen on the carpeted floor, trying to get both my breathing and heartbeat under control. He was here. Harry Styles was in the same goddamn room as me, less than five metres away. So much for my safe place. My so-called escape from him had been linked to him all along. Maybe he would leave without ever knowing I was here? Fùck, no, that wouldn't work. Anne was so intent on setting us up together that she'd make sure we 'met' - if not now, then some time in the future. There had to be some way to avoid this. Fùck, he was Anne's son. How could I have overlooked that? But I had, and now he was here. I couldn't let him see me! Especially not like this: wearing no makeup and an ugly sweater that had seen better days. I was wearing his goddamn shirt, for god's sake! And what I'd just realized were his sweatpants. What would that look like?

Anne's airy, melodic laugh snapped me out of my panic. "So to what do I owe this visit?" She asked curiously. Good, they were distracted. If I was really quiet I could creep out and make my escape. There was no way to avoid the bell going off as I left, but if I legged it down the road fast enough he'd never know it was me - he'd never know I was here. I would deal with all other likely future meetings when I came across them.

Slowly, making sure not to make any noise, I gently pulled the laptop shut and placed it out of my way so I could stand to my feet. Unfortunately, though I had remembered to move the laptop out of the way, I'd completely forgotten about the mug of warm, sugary drink that was conveniently sitting by my hand when I tried to stand. This caused the mug to be knocked over and for hot chocolate to splash everywhere, soaking part of my sleeve and the front of my sweater, and quickly beginning to soak into the forest green carpet. "Shìt!" I hissed. "Fùck, fùck, fùck..." I scrambled to pick the mug up, sending it rolling into the bottom of the shelf with a quiet clink that seemed deafening in the quiet atmosphere. I winced at sound and froze, hoping nobody would come to investigate.

"What was that?" Harry questioned. I peeked through the gap between two books, just able to see him standing with his back to me, towering over his mother like he did with pretty much everybody. He was wearing his usual skinny jeans and boots, complete with a loose black tee identical to the one I was wearing right now. I watched as Anne wrinkled her nose, obviously having not heard my slip up.

"What was what?"

Harry sighed, a great big heave that made his shoulders rise and fall sharply. "Nothing, nothing, I just..." Another sigh. "Nothing."

Anne frowned, mirroring my own expression. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Harry repeated. "I just needed advice, that's all." Advice?

"Advice? Is that why you came here?" Anne asked softly. "For advice?"

"Partly..." he hesitated. "It's just, you know that girl? The one I've been telling you about?"

A girl? My heart sunk into my stomach as Anne nodded. This time I managed to put the mug back in its place and get to my feet, making a mental note to apologize later and attempt to convince her to let me pay to have the carpet cleaned.

"Well, her relationship with her mum isn't exactly great. It's terrible, actually," he emphasized. "Her mum is an absolute bi-"

"Harry!"

I froze. Was he talking about me? Was I the girl he talked to his mum about?

"And I realized I didn't want that with you, so..."