The Devil Wears Saint Laurent (h.s.)

chapter thirteen

"Mija, are you ok?" My mother asks and I nod my head.

"She just needed fresh air and a little reassurance. She's absolutely fine now." Harry adds.

My parents worry dies down and we continue our lunch. Afterwards, Harry drives me and my parents back off at my apartment. He opens the passenger door for me and helps my parents out the back seat.

"Gracias Harry." My father smiles at Harry which Harry returns.

"No problemo, Mr. and Mrs. Cardona."

"Por favor, call me Rosario." My mother says.

"Oh ok, it was nice meeting you two." Harry waves goodbye and gets into his car.

My mother immediately turns to me as soon as Harry drives away, "Charlotte, you work for an amazing man! He's so kind." She exclaims.

"Yeah, he's a great guy." I think of Harry's lips on my own, and other places, making the heat rush to my cheeks.

"Mija? Are you, blushing?" My mother grins ear to ear.

My eyes widen, "What? No, no I'm not blushing." I defend, but my mother isn't having it. She knows me too well.

"Alright." She says, unconvinced.
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It's been one week since Evan went to stay at his brothers. I sent him a text a couple days ago, finally explaining that I'm done with him. I finally had the guts to break up with him and holy shit, it felt good. I don't understand why I tried so hard to stay with him anyway. Not being with Evan feels so free and amazing. Harry and I haven't called ourselves anything yet, because we both would rather be more secretive about us.

Taliah would immediately fire me, if she found out I had any type of romantic or physical relationship with Harry. We've promised to be careful and sneaky. It may sound a bit risky, but we're having fun and it comes to us so naturally. I never felt anything close to what I feel for Harry. No matter what, he pulls me in. I feel so alive when I'm with him, it's so relieving when we're together.

Today, Harry is in a photoshoot for Vogue. The set was in this beautiful palace in France, called Palace of Fontainebleau. It was huge and just breathtakingly gorgeous, thank god I was allowed to travel to these places. It's too bad I can't see that much of France though. We're only here for a couple hours, maybe a day, and then we're back to New York.

I stood in the room while Harry was sitting in a chair getting his hair done. I watched him as he laughed every time he pissed off his hairstylist, he enjoyed making everyone a little pissed at him.

"For fucks sake Harry, stay still!" She scolded him, and he just sat and laughed like a tenacious toddler.

She grabbed some mousse and messily tousled it through his long hair. He looked over to me and winked, making me blush. His hairstylist finishes and walks out the room. He motions with his finger for me to walk towards him, which I did.

"Yes Mr. Styles?" I playfully ask, making him smirk.

"Darling, would you mind telling me what my schedule is for the rest of the week?"  He asks in an annoyingly dramatic, posh accent.

I roll my eyes and he 'Tsks', "Miss Cardona, are you rolling your eyes at me?"

I shake my head and fake a gasp, "I would never do such a thing!"