the ceo - h.s. [au]

chapter 8

arriving at the office at 10:45pm, i park my car near the lobby so harry can find my car easily. the security of course tried repel me at first, but i said i'm here to pick up mr. styles so he quickly understood. since harry says i should pick him up at eleven and i still have fifteen minutes left, i take some cigars outside the car, remembering harry doesn't like the smell of it. i take a long drag since i haven't smoked for the entire day and blow it out from my mouth.

come to think about it, harry is actually nice. he said sorry for louis for example and he took me for breakfast. i think he just doesn't know how to act kindly towards people and he has this angry, intensed face all the fucking time it makes someone goes shiver. i wonder what it's like to be liked by harry, knowing that he never had a date before.

man, i'd fuck him in a heartbeat.

"scarlette?" i hear harry's hoarse voice from behind.

shit.

i throw the cigarette to the ground immediately and step on it just to kill the fire and turn my face to him. he's wearing a red manchester united jersey and a pair skinny jeans that i could practically hear his balls begging for some air. the sleeves are folded, showing his tattoos and muscular arms.

"good evening, mr. styles," i clear my throat.

"did you just smoke?" he asks, arcing an eyebrow.

"no?" i shake my head slowly.

"bullshit. i saw you," he scowls. "do not smoke if you're going with me, scarlette," he snaps. "i fucking hate the smell of it."

"noted, mr. styles." i open the door for him.

once we get inside the car, harry plops himself to the seat next to me, exhaling a long breath. he smells like alcohol and i can't even tell if he's tipsy or not because he still acts really normal. he plays with the rings on his finger, but then crosses his arms in front of his chest.

"fuck," he groans. "niall told me to sleep at the hotel, i rejected it because he said london is blue," he suddenly says.

"so... chelsea won?" i ask.

"by two points and it was because of the penalty!" he almost yells, almost sounds like a child.

clearing my throat, "you smell like alcohol, mr. styles," i truthfully say.

"yes, i went out before the lunch break to grab a couple of bottles from my company," he explains.

"how many shots did you have?"

"just a couple," he sighs. "i promised my mom to come home today, but fuck it. father will thought that i did not work seriously if i go home like this," he mutters, running a hand through his locks.

"are you sure you don't want to stay in here?" i ask, feeling a bit concerned.

"woman, you ask so many questions." he rolls his eyes, "just drive, can't you? besides, i have bought my own appartment half a year ago," he scoffs.

"can you show me where it is?"

"i lost the key yesterday and forgot to ask the receptionist for the new one," he groans.

"so... are you gonna go back to the hotel or your house?" i ask, dabbing my fingers on the steering wheel impatiently. if he's not making a decision in any longer, i'll get sleepy.

"i will stay at the hotel," he groans. "let me just stay for five more minutes. i'm tired."

i nod at him and just play with my nails until he decides to leave. i don't know what to say, besides, harry has closed his eyes and just sit next to me with his hands crossed in front of his chest. his head is down but i can tell he'll fall asleep in any seconds so i clear my throat.