Milk... Eggs... Cereal... I was typing a mile a minute on my iPhone as I walked through the grocery shop. I yanked a trolley with my left hand and began zooming through the store. The grocery shop in Cheshire was smaller than any of the ones in Ireland; where I'm from. I was bobbing and weaving through person after person all the while typing on my iPhone. My beige flats smacked the tile ground as I sped through the crowded isles. I had only one hour before I needed to get back to my new flat.
I had moved from beautiful Longford, Ireland to the even more beautiful Cheshire in Holmes Chapel, London. Moving from Ireland to London was a big change. Going from only thirty-nine thousand people to over one-hundred thousand was insane. But, I knew if I wanted to continue my education I'd take the chance. Dancing was my dream, so when I heard people from Ellesmere Port Specialist School of Performing Arts was interested in me, I couldn't give it up. Since I was a little girl, going to Ellesmere was a dream of mine. I'd dance around our kitchen in the mornings and around the whole house during the day. Hopefully Cheshire would be good to me.
My trolley slammed into someone else's which caused one of my flats to fall behind and my phone to land on the floor. I looked up and my eyes found those of emerald green.
"I'm so sorry," his voice was deep, but strong with an accent. My cheeks had to have been rosy with the way I was staring at him.
"N-no," I stumbled over my words. "It's my fault I should've been paying attention." He was tall, at least six feet. His long legs clad black jeans; while his never-ending torso had a matching button down that was tucked in. Our eyes met again and I noticed just how green his eyes were. My eyes traced over his nose and mouth and then landed on his hair. There was a mop of messy, yet organized curls atop his head. The gorgeous stranger knelt down and lifted my phone. He didn't come back up and I looked down at him.
"You're missing a shoe," his pink lips curled up to one side. I looked around and, indeed, found my left shoe. Stepping back into it, I felt even more embarrassed. "I'm Harry, Harry Styles," Harry Styles.
"I'm Alyson," My voice was small, but my accent was strong. "Alyson Snow." His eyes shined when he noted the twang on my tongue.
"You're not from here," he simply stated. "Well, again, I'm sorry for hitting your trolley. Here's your phone. My number kind of found its way in there. That way you know who it is when I text you," I was completely stunned at what just happened. Harry winked as he walked away and I couldn't help but stare down at my phone.
My flat was tiny, but cozy. The living area was spacious and bright which helped tons. It had high vaulted ceilings and bay windows. My kitchen was tiny, yet contemporary and I couldn't cook anyways. There was an attached eating area that had no table or chairs, but it had another bay window looking out onto a large green field. My bathroom had to be the smallest room and I almost couldn't fit all my hair supplies. The bedroom, though, was something to be proud of. One of the walls facing the courtyard was one large window with crown molding. My queen sized bed fit perfectly against the wall. All-in-all, the flat was cozy and filled with boxes.
I had just turned on a movie after searching through Netflix for twenty minutes and was sprawled across my bed when my iPhone lit up.
To Alyson (20:30)
Hey! Its Harry xx
Was he really texting me? So, he hadn't been lying in the grocery ship. When my phone had lit up, Harry Styles had flashed across the small blue box.
