The Lucky Pick // One Direction

Chapter 32

Megan Watson's POV

"Wanna walk to the shops?"

My eyebrows knit together as I look to Harry who has his head tilted and a small smile on his face that says, 'c'mon, please?'.

"Um, I guess.. But you have a broken leg, Harry," I remind him, gesturing towards the black cast that reaches to just below his knee cap.

"Well, obviously," he replies, "But I can still walk. And there's nothing to do. Please?" He pouts his lips slightly and raises both eyebrows.

"Ugh, fine. But if your leg starts paining, don't come crying to me," I raise my hands in surrender, and he grins.

"Alright," he chuckles and limps slightly to the hallway to put on a jacket. I slip on a jumper and walk out into the hallway to find him slipping on a navy beanie with his jacket already on him.

"ZAYN! WE'RE GOING TO THE SHOPS!" Harry calls up the stairs. Zayn is upstairs, in his room alone, doing I don't know what, while the others are gone to watch a match. Zayn faintly replies an 'okay'.

"Okay, let's go," Harry says, as I open the door to be greeted by a gust of cold wind.

Harry follows and I close the door behind us.

He slips his hand in mine as we walk, and I smile up at him.

"Harry," I say, after several seconds of walking in silence.

"Mm?" He replies.

"I don't know what to do," I mumble.

"What do you mean?" He questions, and I see him look at me from the corner of my eye.

"In the future," I say, "As in, getting a job, and stuff."

"Oh," he says, "Well, what do you enjoy doing? What do you want to be?"

"Um... Well, I've always sorta wanted to write books," I admit shyly.

"Oh, a book writer, eh?" He smirks slightly, "I think you'd be a good one. What type of books, then?"

"Mm... Well I think maybe romance or drama, realistic stuff, y'know?" I say.

"You should definitely try and write a book. Maybe get an easy job, like, I dunno, but something that's part time, that'll make you a bit of money. And when you're not working, write. If that doesn't work out, you could apply for a college next year or the year after, maybe," he suggests.

"That's a good idea," I reply, "I was also thinking, I'm eighteen, so it's probably time I get my own apartment."

"Yeah, probably," he grins cheekily, "Or maybe, you could sleep in my room and we could -"

"Oh my gosh, shut up before you say anything more, Harry," I hold a hand to my forehead, letting out a small laugh.

"I'm just joking, Megan," he laughs, before adding, "Sorta."

I shake my head at him with a laugh and we continue walking to the shop.

"You know the way you said you weren't really a fan of us, when you went to the concert?" Harry asks me, after a few moments of silence.

"Yeah?"

"How come you weren't? I mean, did you not like us?" He asks me. 

"Um... Well, I didn't dislike you. I might have liked you if Delilah wasn't talking about you all the time. I mean, you seemed like cool guys," I tell him.