Broken Things

Chapter 4

SPOV:

I felt the heat of the flames brush over my face as I stoked the fire. I stood up and took my glass of wine from the mantle. I smiled at the sounds of The Clash envelope the room. I turned away from the fire to see Harry walking towards me. I studied him as he walked. He was wearing black skinny jeans with a white v-neck tshirt under a black blazer. His sleeves were pushed up to his elbows and brown boots covered his feet. I had seen this same style in countless magazine and online articles. I appreciated the fact that it was put together to make it seem  like he didn't give a fuck.

"Do you want anything to eat?"

"What do you have?" 

I walked over to the kitchen and shuffled around in the fridge. Nothing. I hadn't been to the store this week and I rolled my eyes in annoyance. I closed the fridge and took down a take-out menu I had stuck to the fridge. 

"Well I have a Chinese take-out menu, if you're up for it," I laughed as I waved the menu around. 

"Yes, please," he smiled and walked over to me. We called and placed our order. It was set to arrive in about twenty minutes. After I hung up the phone, I made my way over to the couch and plopped down. Harry followed in suit and sat in the couch across from me.

"So what did you do to get a place like this, if you don't mind me asking," he asked, studying the walls of my apartment.

"Oh it's cool. Um, actually, I'm a Colombian drug lord and a pimp on the lower east side," I said, taking a sip of wine. Harry choked in his glass and laughed as he wiped the back of his hand across his mouth.

"Well at least you're being productive," he said after clearing his throat. I threw my head back and laughed.

"Yes well when I'm not doing that, I'm a photographer. I graduated not too long ago and have landed some pretty decent jobs."

"A photographer?...Like back at the club?" he said flatly.

"Oh God, no," I scoffed, "Those people aren't photographers. They're scum who invade people's lives for a pretty penny and I don't appreciate the black mark they have put on the profession. It's sick." I shook my head in disgust.

"I will have to say I agree with you. I like the passion you have for what you do. I guess I can relate," he said with a shy smile. I chuckled and watched him lean back into the couch. 

"My dream job is to work Rolling Stone. Oh God, I would kill to work there," said as I tucked my feet under me.

"I could see you working there. I think you would be great, honestly," he said with a wink. I felt my cheeks flush and thankfully, the buzzer of the door went off just in time. I saw Harry take out his wallet.

"No," I said and rushed over to my clutch, "I got this." I buzzed the door open and waited until I heard a knock on the door. I slid the door open and handed the delivery guy the money. I took the food and thanked him before pushing the door closed again.

"I could have at least gotten half," he said as I brought the food to the table that was position between the couches. 

"It's really okay," I said with a shrug.

He rolled his eyes and smiled while he shook his head. He leaned forward from the couch and started taking the food.

"Hold on," I said and stood over the table. Bending down, I pushed the table across the rug, leaving the space between the couches. I grabbed the food and sat on the floor.

"Join me?" I said with a smile and patted the ground next to me. He laughed and made his way to the floor. He put his back against the couch and crossed his legs out in front of him.

"Much better," he said. I nodded in agreement as I positioned my chopsticks in my hand.

"So your turn," I said through a bite a fried rice. A crooked smile came across his face while he chewed.

"Um, I'm a member of a boyband," he said and laughed.

"Really? Wow, I bet your shit." He laughed again, making me chuckle.

"I mean we're alright," he shurgged. I rolled my eyes and shook my head.

"Oh come on. Tell me something about you that hasn't plastered all over the media."

I watched him look up in thought.