Minding Grace

2: Baby, I'm perfect for you.

Harry stood in front of his wardrobe mirror, so far only dressed in his jeans.

Blue?

Black?

Blue?

Black?

He held the blue shirt that looked like the colour of the sky in front of his chest.

Then switched it and held up the black one.

He went back and forth trying to decide which colour might suit him best.

The blue with the bee print looked bright and cheerful, which he felt matched his disposition and perhaps might appeal to Mrs. van Otten in that he would be a good fit for caring for her children.

Yes and he...

Oh who the hell was he trying to kid?

Harry knew absolutely nothing about looking after children and he really couldn't fathom why she was even considering him.

Maybe she was having a lend of him?

But she didn't sound like it, at least, Harry didn't think so.

He just had to try and impress her.

With what Harold?

Your taste in clothing?

Harry held the black shirt back up in front of him.

Black spoke serious, that he was serious and that he meant business.

That he really wanted this.

But was it too serious?

Too solemn.

He wasn't going to a funeral.

He flicked back between his two choices before he settled on the blue, throwing the black shirt onto his bed, then he pulled the blue shirt on a did up four buttons instead of his usual three.

Wouldn't be good to have the nips out on display during the interview.

He then smoothed out his hair, flipping it as he ran his fingers through it.

Maybe he should put it up in a bun?

Would that look more presentable?

But would he be judged on whether his hair was up or down?

He thought for a moment and decided that maybe 'up' would be neater.

Who knew dressing for an interview was so fucking stressful?

Harry went into the bathroom and grabbed a hair tie and quickly tied his hair up into a bun before he straightened his shirt out and, satisfied with his appearance, he walked back into his main room and turned his laptop on that sat on his desk before he checked the clock.

7.50pm.

Harry rubbed his hands up and down his thighs, feeling them become clammy from nerves.

The laptop finally sprung to life and Harry clicked on the Skype button to open it up.

He sat and looked at the blue screen.

And waited.

He swallowed nervously and realised his mouth felt incredibly dry so he walked over to his fridge and opened the door up and pulled out a bottle of water before he walked back to his desk and twisted the top open and took a large gulp.

At the same time his laptop sprung to life and an icon of some blue sparkles popped up onto the screen causing Harry to spit out his water in surprise.