Constant // Harry Styles

Chapter 10: "It's just a surprise, is all."

"If you could have any job in the world - like, do anything in the world as an occupation - regardless of qualification or how much money you'd make, what would it be?" 

Harry stared up at the ceiling.  "I would travel the world for a job.  Does that count?" 

I shrugged.  "I suppose." 

"Ever since I saw that movie Madagascar with the talking animals and dancing lemurs when I was younger, I've wanted to go there," he said, chuckling.  I laughed too.  I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought something similar when I was younger.  Harry asked, "What about you?" 

I smiled.  "Astronaut.  Hands down," I answered quickly, tugging on a strand of my hair and extending it as far as it would go.  "I love the moon and pictures of Earth from space.  It's so beautiful." 

"You wouldn't be afraid of being out in the middle of nothingness?" Harry asked, running his hand through his own hair. "There's no oxygen, no gravity, no guarantee you'll return to Earth safely." 

"I didn't criticize your dream job," I gasped at him.  He laughed.  I continued.  "I might be afraid for a little while, but it's got to be peaceful up there.  Just floating around, admiring the beauty of silence and nothingness." 

"Hmm," Harry hummed, pouting his lips like he was thinking. "My turn.  If you could be on any show on the telly, what would it be and why?" 

I giggled as Harry ran his rough hand up my shin and back to my ankle.  We were stretched across the grungy blue couch in my apartment, our legs tangled on the middle cushion as we tried to face each other.  I was glad I'd decided to shave that morning in the shower.  "Mmm... maybe Long Island Medium. The one where the woman can sense and speak for spirits who want to connect with friends or family here on Earth." 

Harry frowned at me.  "A reality show?  Those stories are all fake and you know it." 

I scowled.  "She is really talking to the spirits." 

 "The whole show is rubbish and made up for views," Harry said, raising his eyebrows at me.  "There is no way that woman is actually talking to ghosts." 

"Spirits," I said. "And I believe she is.  Those people's reactions are too pure for them to be acting.  AND-" I said, cutting him off before he could argue with me more.  "If they were acting, they should be getting Oscars.  They give very convincing performances." 

"Fair enough.  Why would you want to be on there?" Harry asked, slowly dragging his nails down my shin. 

I stared into his face for a moment. "I would wanna see if she could channel my grandpa.  My dad's dad.  All of my cousins were very close to him and I just never was.  He was so funny," I chuckled, thinking about the old man who had the soul of a 20-year-old until the day he passed. "He could crack jokes better than any comedian can nowadays.  I just never really opened up to him.  We never got to be too close.  I was the only grandkid to not be able to tell him goodbye.  It eats away at me sometimes," I said, fixing my gaze on a spot on the dirty carpet. I dragged my eyes back up to meet Harry's, which were focused intently on my face. I sighed.  "Either that show or Cupcake Wars... but I can't bake," I laughed.  

A slow smile began to spread across Harry's face, and I could tell he was still thinking about what I'd said about my grandfather.  He pulled himself back into the conversation.  "Well I think Cupcake Wars would be a fun show to be on, but I would want to be a judge." 

I wiggled my toes in his face before he pinched one in his long fingers.  He had come over earlier that morning to take me to brunch at the dining hall, but afterwards, it started to storm.  There was a chance for more snow that afternoon.  We ran back to my apartment in the downpour and were trying to warm up a bit since we'd been caught in the freezing rain without any kind of umbrella.  I was dressed in an old hoodie and some of my black sweats, which Harry had pushed up to my knee so he could... rub my leg, I guess.  It sounded weird, but it had me just the right amount of turned on. No one had ever done that for me before.  Harry on the other hand was too tall and wide to fit into any of my clothing, so while his clothes were drying in my dryer, he was in his boxers tucked beneath my comforter, which he had stolen from my bed.  Only one of his legs was out from beneath the comforter, and it revealed enough for me to see Harry's hilariously white thighs.