Masked Insanity (Harry Styles)

Chapter 15: Red Velvet

Just as the elevator door slid closed, my phone vibrated in my pocket. I discreetly pulled it out of my pocket and looked down at the caller ID.  Harvey. Great timing.  I stole a quick glance at Harry, my heart twisting at the troubled frown etched on his face, and I thumbed the decline button. I’ll just call him later. Harry was my main concern at the moment.

I couldn’t help but smirk at the clerk behind the desk as we crossed the apartment’s lobby. The dumbfounded expression on her face was nothing but comical. I gave her an innocent smile and a shrug just as we left the building.

I quietly studied Harry out of the corner of my eye. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this distressed. He’d frequently run a large hand through his hair, a frustrated sigh escaping his lips. His mind was anywhere but here, and during the short, rather awkward, car ride, his whole body was tense with pent up anger. I was feeling increasingly unsure about this whole thing. God knows I’m not good with people, and I was afraid I would blurt out the wrong thing and make him more upset.

     He pulled up in front of this unfamiliar Coffee Hut, not too far from his apartment.  He strode in ahead of me as I jogged to catch up. I wasn’t too surprised when he slid into a booth at the far end of the small shop. At least we would get some privacy. The silence stretched on. I uncomfortably drummed my fingers on the table as Harry glared at the wall behind me.

Just when I was about to work up the courage to talk to him, I heard the obnoxious clicking of heels. I glanced up to find a tall, blonde waitress standing there with a hand on her hip. She spared me a disdainful once-over before she focused her attention on Harry.

“What can I get for you, sir?” she purred at him, twirling her hair between her fingers.

“I’ll have a tall latté with skim milk, no sugar,” he said, his gaze shifting down to his lap. Her face scrunched up into a frown at his clear lack of interest, but it was quick to fade.

“Can I interest you in a slice of our homemade iced lemon pound cake?” she asked.

“No, thanks.”

“Are you sure? It’s fresh out of the oven…”  she lowered her elbows down to the table, shoving her cleavage in his face, “moist… and sweet…” A slender finger tilted his chin up before she whispered, “just like me---”

“Uh-hum,” I patted my hand over my chest several times, pretending to cough violently. Her head snapped up, her gray eyes stormy with anger.

“Sorry,” I smiled falsely, “allergies.” Harry’s lips turned up slightly at the corners. The waitress stood up straight and smoothed down the creases in her skirt.

“And what do you want?” she asked bitterly. I pursed my lips together, and on an act of impulse, I quickly swung my hips around the table and plopped down next to Harry. Ignoring the look of confusion he was shooting me, I took him by the hand and wrapped his arm around my shoulders.

     "What do you think I should get, babe?" I asked Harry, trying to sound natural although the words felt foreign on my tongue. The stupid smirk plastered on Harry's face was not helping things.

"I don't know," he grinned, shifting his arm down to my waist and pulling me closer to him, "a Red Velvet cupcake?" His fingers trailed up and down my hips, making me squirm uncomfortably.

"Red Velvet cupcake it is," I said with a smile and planted a soft kiss on his cheek, right on his dimple. I could tell that I caught him off guard, from the sudden tensing of his shoulders, but the only sign of his fluster was the slight tinge of pink in his cheeks.

"Ugh, get a room," the waitress rolled her eyes, "your order will be ready in ten minutes." Once the clacking of her heels faded away, Harry turned to me.