Picture Perfect [UNDER REVISION]

Breaking Promises

"If you judge people, you have no time to love them." - Mother Teresa

The scowls, and scrutinizing glares I received from Harry's neighbors had me awkwardly shuffling on my feet as I patiently waited for him to unlock the front door. They probably think I'm one of "those girls" he occasionally brings home. I couldn't help but slightly frown at the unpleasant thought of how many other girls had the luxury of seeing his home, but I forced a smile once he graciously opened the door for me and ushered me inside. A quick tour of his condominium was given to me before Harry guided me toward what I presumed to be the kitchen.

The space was a lot bigger than I expected it to be but easy to work around, which I liked. Tools and other utensils were neatly organized in the drawers as were the dishes, and all the can goods were scattered throughout the pantry. Green Eyes didn't leave the room without showing me where to find the necessary ingredients for the pizza, and then everything else was up to me. Harry, for reasons beyond me, wanted to eat a bell pepper and spinach pizza for dinner, and I stupidly promised to make it for him. Making a pizza looked fairly simple on those cooking shows that I'd often watch on tv, but I honestly had no clue where to begin, so I turned on my phone for help.

He never said using electronics was against the rules.

I found that the doe rolling part was the easiest, or so I thought, until a certain someone came back into the kitchen just to inform me that I wasn't doing it right.

"You have to ground your fingers into the edges to keep the shape," Harry told me with a demonstration.

When did rolling bread become this complicated?

"How do you know all of this?" I raised an eyebrow, intently observing the pressure he was applying to the ends. Harry pressed his fingertips into the doe and made crease marks to round out the edges, contrary to what I was doing before.

"I had a job at a bakery once," he casually replied while coming to a stop, "but I trust that you'll be able to roll it on your own now."

I nodded reassuringly and resumed working on the doe, slightly smiling at the idea of Harry in an apron. I should call him bakery boy. The awkward silence that came afterward was my confirmation of Harry's absence in the room, so I felt free to openly express myself again, rolling my shoulders back in a sigh. "I was doing just fine on my own before he dropped in," I murmured to myself.

"What did you say?" A raspy voice asked while I was left wondering how the bloody hell he heard me.

"O-Oh, nothing. Hehe, um, I was just admitting how much of a mess I was until you dropped in," I croaked.

"Weird, I thought you said something else. I'll come back to check on you later, love." Harry winked at me on his way out the kitchen door. I made sure to actually watch him leave this time before going back to work.

* * *

"No, no, no. You're supposed to season the sauce before spreading it over the doe!" Harry frowned, face palming himself. I thought I could just sprinkle the season over the sauce before adding the cheese. Guess not.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know."

"Well that's just great. Now the pizza's ruined."

"Are you sure I can't just add some more sauce over the-"

"‒No, you can't. It doesn't work that way, love. You don't know the first thing about cooking, do you?"

That's it. "You know what I do know? I know that I'm not gonna stand here and let you criticize me for one small mistake. I said I was sorry Harry. Way to make a person feel bad." I crossed my arms, turning to face the door.

I swear. He can be a real asshat sometimes. I should just leave.

I guess the curly haired boy sensed that I was thinking of leaving because the next thing he did was out of my control.

"Lucy, wait," Harry said while grabbing my shoulder with his large hand. I hesitantly looked his way, not anticipating any sort of protest on his behalf, and swallowed the lump forming in my throat. "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. I only wanted to win the bet, and I did. You messed up like I predicted you would." He smiled as if his ignorant confession would make everything alright.

He always finds the perfect way to ruin the moment. I would've been fine with just the apology, but no. He had to open that stupid mouth of his. When is he going to learn that it's not okay to make people feel like s.hit for your own personal gain?

I scoffed, "Goodbye, Harry." I shrugged off his touch and stormed out the kitchen door.

To no surprise Harry followed me into the living room and roughly yanked me by the arm, preventing any sort of escape. My breathing hitched in my throat as I stifled a groan, pain shooting up my forearm. I didn't like this side of him. I demanded that he let me go more than once and gave him a little shove but to no avail. His body wouldn't budge. He was just too strong, and I was desperate enough to leave before the situation could end incorrigibly.

"W-what do you want from me, Harry?" I asked shakily, fear written all over my face.

His features suddenly softened, but the grip he had on my arm remained taut, knowing if he let me go, I'd leave. "Please, don't go Lucy. I'm really sorry about everything. The bet is off, and you don't even have to worry about giving me a massage, and I can help you finish that pizza. Just don't leave like this," He begged of me.

I shook my head. "No, Harry. You don't get to magically fix everything by saying sorry, and you can finish cooking that goddamn pizza by yourself. I want to go home!" I spat.

"It's late. At least let me drive you."

"I'd rather you not." I grumbled.

"Alright..." Harry finally surrendered, releasing my arm, "if that's how you truly feel, then you get yourself out. I couldn't care less about what happens to you." The green eyed boy snorted as he looked away from me.

I could hardly recognize the cold voice of the man in front of me, but I nodded along to his words before walking toward the door, each step as painful as the next.

Maybe it's better this way; I don't think we're cut out to be friends.

I glanced back at Harry one last time, watching pools of regret fill his emerald eyes, before finally shutting the door behind me and walking to the elevators. I pressed the down button on the panel and wiped away the tear that managed to stray from my blurry eyes. I didn't understand why his words hurt so much.

I'd be lying to myself if I didn't admit that a tiny part of me always feels on edge when I'm around Harry. It's like I have to watch his every move in order to ensure nothing salacious happens between us, and that frightens me. And in some ways, Harry frightens me too, like he did just a minute ago.

I know he's trouble, yet I can't deny the fact that I'm physically attracted to him. But he's wrong for me. A gorgeous man like Harry gets everything he wants, but one thing's for sure. I cannot let his charm get to me.