Unity | Harry Styles AU

II: smeared eyeliner

Waking up this morning was much easier than yesterday because I had something motivating me to get up, and I didn't go to sleep as late as I usually do– probably because I wasn't stressing over my parents, I was stressing over this upper hall decorating project, which is much more minuscule than a "verbal beating" from my mom and dad.

Today was Tuesday, and I was sure to make my second day of the week looking more alive than dead like yesterday. It was November, but it was oddly warm out for this time of year so I thought a nice summer dress with cashmere socks and cardigan would suit the weather. I also woke up twenty minutes earlier so I thought I would curl my hair as well. Just because I had the time.

After doing my makeup and hair, I checked my phone to see the time, and realized I had an extra half an hour to spare, so I figured I would put that time to use and go to the local coffee shop I worked at to grab a bite to eat and review some draft ideas for the project.

I grabbed my keys, sunglasses and I was off.

--

As I pulled up into the parking lot, I realized it was much less busy than usual. With the exception of a couple cars, it was practically empty.

I locked my car door and held the relatively big satchel of papers within my hands, making sure no rogue sheets would fly away in the wind.

As I walked into the coffee shop, I bumped into a man standing by the cash waiting for his order. I was frazzled because my hair was in my face and I couldn't see, and all my papers were everywhere on the floor. Today was off to a great start, I thought to myself.

I kept repeating "sorry" over and over again to whoever was witnessing my struggle until I pushed my hair off my face and realized it was Mr. Styles I bumped into, and he was helping me pick up the papers I dropped.

"Oh, Mr. Styles , I didn't mean to bump into you. I'm so sorry" I smiled nervously. Everything that came out of my mouth when I talked to him sounded nervous.

He glanced at the papers in his hands as he began to talk.

"Don't worry about it... Hey, are these your ideas for the project?" He looked up at me.

Was... That a question inferring they were bad ideas? Or good...?

"Um. Yes they are. I was working on them last evening.. Are they not g-" before I could finish my sentence he interrupted.

"Don't be silly, they're great. Why don't we take a seat and we can review them together?" He then gestured for me to take a seat at the table beside us, and grabbed his coffee off the counter as well.

I sat down, brushed the imaginary dust off my skirt and began to take out the papers in order. He watched me intently as I did all of this, twiddling his thumbs as he did so.

"So, Mr. Styles, I made a-" He interrupted me in the middle of my sentence again.

"Harry. Outside of class you can call me Harry. It's my first name." He smiled.

Harry? His first name was Harry? All I could think about right now was the fact that my art teacher was taking the time to socialize with me outside of school.

"Actually, before we start talking about any of this, I think it would be helpful to learn about each other. Not only will we be spending a lot of time working with one another, but knowing the background of someone after interpreting their art is very rewarding." He spoke again.

I was at a loss for words. Who even was I? I'm not sure.

"Okay.. Well, i'm Alaska Dwyer. I have a passion for art, hence why I've decided to dedicate my time at the Institute of Fine Arts. Before my time here, I was a dancer, which was actually very hard to do because I had parents who thought school should be the only thing I should focus on, so my last year at the studio I actually payed for the dance year myself." I took a breath.