Megan Watson's POV
I furrow my eyes together as I scribble messily onto the piece of paper, and I get a huge fright when there is a knock at the door.
I hold a hand to my heart, having been so into my thoughts and writing that I was scared at the small noise.
I get up and walk over to the front door, opening it to see Harry smiling.
"Hi," he says, holding out the 'i'.
"Hey, come in," I say to him, opening the door further to allow him inside.
"Where's your family?" Harry asks as we walk into the living room.
"Dad's gone on a business trip, again," I tell him, sitting on the couch, "Mum's at work and Delilah's at school. So, it's just me here."
"Ah, I see," he says, sitting down beside me, and his eyes land on the notebook I had recently bought for writing, and he holds it up, "What's this?"
"Um, nothing," I mumble, snatching it out of his hand.
"Aw, is wittle Megan embarrassed?" He coo's, pinching my cheeks.
I swat him away, "No... it's just my writing. I've started that, like you said, and now I just need to find a job to get money for an apartment."
"Oh..." He says, and a small smirk plays at his lips.
"Why the smirking?" I ask him.
"Oh, are we being all posh now, because you're a writer?" He jokes.
"That's not even posh. Now, answer my question."
"Make me," he says, and I narrow my eyes at him. He does the same and we stay like that for a while, not blinking before he turns away, rubbing his eyes and saying, "Okay, you win."
"So what is your answer?" I ask.
"My answer to what?" He asks, pretending not to know what I'm talking about.
"You're not fooling anyone, Harry," I tell him. "It doesn't matter anyways. So, what do you want to do?"
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"I don't get why I have to cover my eyes..." I mumble, as Harry leads me I don't know where.
"You'll see in a sec," He says, and after a small more bit of walking, he stops.
"Okay, you can look," he announces, and I take my hands away from my eyes to see myself looking at a burgundy coloured apartment building.
"What's this about?" I ask him.
"Well, you wanted your own apartment, right? So, I got you one." He places a key in my hand.
"No, no, no. No. I'm not accepting this," I argue, trying to put the keys in his hands but he doesn't take them.
He holds his hands up in surrender, "It's yours now."
"Why do you do this?" I groan, feeling really guilty for him spending money on me.
"Because I - because you're my girlfriend," he says.
"Well, if I'm ever lucky enough to get a book published, which I doubt I will, I'll pay you back," I say, "thank you so much, Harry. You're really the best. You're spoiling me, I swear."
"It's no problem, really," he assures me, taking my hand in his, "wanna go look inside?"
"Of course," I smile at him and we make our way towards the front door of the apartment, and I look at the keys in my hands and put them in the key-hole, looking at Harry before twisting it and making the door open.
YOU ARE READING
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