Harry stares at me blankly for a few seconds, “You want me to come upstairs?”
I shrug, “That’s what I just said,” I inform him nervously. I don’t really want to repeat myself. It’s already hard enough to invite him upstairs one time, “Only if you want to of course,” I bite my lip.
“I do,” Harry answers extremely quickly, “I’m just surprised is all.”
“Oh,” is all I can think of to say, so I just nod.
Harry parks the car nearby the building and we both get out. I lead the way, walking in front of him. I use my key to get through the gate and hold it open for Harry who is looking around and taking everything in. It’s not really much to look at so I’m not sure why he is so intrigued. It’s just a boring room with dirty tiled floor.
“Stairs are this way,” I tell him breaking his trance.
He raises an eyebrow, “Isn’t there an elevator?” He points to the nearby elevator.
I nod, “Yes, but there is a 50% chance that the elevator would break and I’m not risking the chance of getting stuck in an elevator right now,” He looks dubious, and I sigh “It’s only five floors.”
“Only?” He says sarcastically.
I roll my eyes and start to head up the stairs. I hear the clump of Harry’s shoes behind me after a moment but don’t look back. I wait for Harry once I reach the fifth floor. When he finally reaches my floor, breathing deeply. I’m regretting the decision of inviting him in a little bit but it’s to late now. I fish my key out of my pocket with my right hand but struggle to use it because of my newly injured and bandaged hand.
“Damn key,” I curse as I attempt again to open the door, but before I know it the key is snatched out of my hand, and Harry is opening the door for us. I sigh a little bit but don’t say anything. The faded wood door swings open allowing our entry. Harry steps in first taking just a few steps through the doorway.
“So, this is where I live…” I trail off, following him into the house and closing the door behind me The house is a bit of a mess, but not too horrible. I scan the living room, hoping that there’s nothing embarrassing lying in plain sight and as far as I can see, “It’s not much but-”
“I like it,” Harry tells me turning back to face me with a kind smile.
“Right…” I nod, moving past him and clearing off the couch so we can sit down. When I look up, he is still standing in the doorway of the room, “You can come in you know,” I laugh a little bit, “You don’t have to stand in the doorway.”
Harry nods, and takes a few steps forward, crossing into the living room.
“I’ll be right back,” I excuse myself heading towards the direction of the bathroom, “Make yourself at home,” I instruct him.
Once in the bathroom I head straight for the tiny mirror over the sink and am taken a back by what I see. My makeup is a mess and it looks like I have a small bruise forming on my cheek for who knows what. I groan. Seriously? I’ve looked like this for the past three hours or so? I quickly wipe the mascara and eyeliner that has run below my under eye off with a wet towel, which leaves small dark stains. Then I wash my face completely so I don’t look like I’ve been in a horror film.
It suddenly dawns on me that Harry Styles is in my house. He is standing in my living room right now. God, what is my life, seriously.
I look once more in the mirror before heading back out into the living room.
When I step back into the living room, Harry is holding and looking at an old picture of me and my mum. It’s from about four years ago, so I look substantially younger. We’re on the beach, laughing. It’s overcast and cloudy outside and our hair is blowing in our faces but our smiles are incredibly large. I remember that day perfectly. He looks up at me, “Sorry,” he apologizes, setting the picture back down where it was originally.
