Pure Chances

Pure Chances | 05

                    "Don't you dare." 

"Or we could just leave it as this color..." The nervous painter said, directing the words particularly to noone. I rolled my eyes so hard they could've gone into my head, knowing this was a conflict of interest for him.
Ever since Lucas Foster took on my offer and agreed to move in with Diane and I, despite only seeing him only very early in the mornings and unholy hours in the night, he had managed to infuriate me with his mere presence and I used way too many brain cells solely for him on these days. I was angry at the tons of workers that came in and out of the house everyday, working on the bedroom he was
moving in to, and the color of his darn driver's hair even! With Diane staying at Miguel's for the main time, I still had time to think of a way to explain all this to her, if her genius little self hadn't picked it up already.

As if all that wasn't infuriating enough, Lucas absolutely had
to employ an interior designer for the living space in the house stating that he couldn't believe I was raising his child in this– pardon his French– shit hole.
And of course I had to give him a suitable reply–in German– stating that I couldn't believe he wasn't raising his child at all.
The embarrassed look on his face and the frown etched on his brows were worth the magnitude of immaturity I was feeling, in all honesty.
He had then taken it upon himself to choose the wall paint and I saw it as a perfect opportunity to object to the whole ordeal.

"Definitely not red, this isn't a frat house." I stated, looking straight at Lucas who rolled his eyes in return.

"Brown is not my colour, it's too dark." He said, "kinda like your soul." He muttered afterwards and I rolled my eyes as well in return.

"Light brown then," I offered with all the politeness I could muster. "This isn't even negotiable, it's not your house."

"It is now, and this is the end of this conversation." He said before moving out of the front door leaving the terrified looking painter and I all alone. I turned to look at him and he almost flinched, already looking flustered.

"Brown!" I stated, pointing an accusing finger at him before grabbing my purse and exiting the front door for work.

. . .

I worked in a music store, I loved the atmosphere and the security of being around the instruments that I love and being around people with similar affection, and I guess it also helped that I owned the store, actually, all the security came from that particular aspect. It wasn't a very big store as we sold only the most common instruments, but I was extremely proud of it as it sat gloriously on the last floor of the local mall. I convinced myself day by day that that was the reason why we didn't get so many customers and sometimes no customers at all, I mean, everyone hates waiting in the elevator for too long, right?

A young man walked into the store, his ripped black skinny jeans clung tightly to his legs, wearing a vintage shirt and the oddest pair of brown boots. He was not the kind of customer we usually got and his long sleek curly hair didn't exactly conform his image. I had to say, he was easily one of the most effortlessly handsome people I had ever seen. I straightened up from where I was helping a teenage girl tune her ukulele, and coughed when I realized I had been staring at the vintage dude who was now approaching me, I looked around helplessly to call for someone else to assist him but it was too late as he was already standing right in front of me and my breath hitched.

"Hey, can I see your pianos?" The green eyed (yes he had emerald green eyes) breath taking machine uttered, confirming my suspicion that there were aliens from planet perfecto roaming this very earth.

"Uhmm, you're welcome, please follow me." I managed to say as I made my way towards the piano section of the store, fighting the urge not to look at the beautiful specimen beside me as he tucked his thick hair behind his ear.

"There's only one acoustic piano left." I said as we reached the piano section, the green eyed man was already scanning the black and brown digital pianos.

"Well I guess I'm a lucky guy," he said as he looked up at me and flashed me a little smile and my heart skipped. What. Sorcery. Is. This. He continued looking around as I stood there stupidly thinking of what I was about to say before he smiled at me. The words magically came back to me and I silently hoped he wouldn't smile at me again for the sake of these words.

"It's white though, that's the real reason why it hasn't been sold, it's over there." I said pointing at the brilliant white piano that sat covered behind a small corner wall. The man moved to it and tore off the black cover so fast.

"Well it's official," he said as I walked towards him. "I'm the luckiest man alive." And with that he ordered the piano and I myself found the whole ordeal hard to believe. We had been trying to sell this piano for almost a year but noone was in the least bit interested because of its brilliant white colour and most especially it's price. This was a day of miracles for both parties.

"What's your name sir?" I asked the green eyed man in front of me at the other side of the counter. I was taking down his order and he was staring down at me and practically burning invisible holes through me. I tried to steady my breath and avoided looking up in case I was flushed.

"Harry, Styles." He said.

"Like hairstyles?" I asked and mentally slapped myself for talking line like a child. I also mentally slapped Lucas Foster for making me this way. I then slapped myself again for remembering that a$$hole.

"Is there any other kind?" He asked amused. "It's definitely not stiles as in stiles stillinsky."

I whipped my head up at this. "You watch teen wolf?"I asked him, cocking my head slightly to the side in amusement.

"Well you don't have to shout it!" He whisper -yelled, a small smile playing on his lips and I couldn't help but burst out laughing. "And yes, I do." He grinned, exposing his perfectly adorned eyes.

"Your laugh is amazing." He said, still grinning partially, and a shiver coursed through my spine as his words hit deep. The way he pronounced amazing as ahmayzayn wasn't exactly helping. "You know what to else is amazing?" He continued, "the fact that you own this place."

"How did you know that?" I inquired.

"Your pictures on the wall." He pointed at the framed picture of me hanging against the wall.

"Oh, I didn't see that there." I joked and hitched up my eyebrow and he laughed audibly, sending waves through me. Oh, no.

"I think you have that there to be reminded of your accomplishments and most especially for the world to see, and I think you've had a crazy past as well." He continued, "I want to be like you someday, especially the accomplishment part." I was awestruck at his words as I searched for words of my own, I was pretty sure my mouth hung open.

"Uhmm, thank you. Mr styles. Thank you for coming." I added quickly as he continued to bore holes into me.

"Thank you too, see you around Victoria Burnes." He said as he took his receipt from in front of him and proceeded to the exit.

"How did you –"

"It's on the photograph as well." He answered before the glass door swung open and he disappeared through it. I stared at the back drop of the receipt in front of me, in a week's time Harry styles would be back here to get his piano and before the end of the day I found myself counting down the days. What's that thing they say? Love at–hell no, that couldn't be it. More like infatuation at first sight, because as I drove home from work i realized Harry styles had me hooked.

a/n: this is not a Harry fan fiction neither is it the real Harry, the character Harry styles is a product of my imagination, I just had tooo. this chapter was inspired by the song begin again by Taylor Swift, idk how. Thank you for reading and supporting, please vote and comment!! I love reading comments, it's just a way for me to know you're actually reading any of this. stay kind; all the love, taire