Night Shift (h.styles au)

chapter 1

"So Harry, what do you think about mattresses?"

Harry blinked twice, surprised by the question. It was true that he was applying to work at a mattress store, but it didn't even cross his mind once that during the interveiw he would have to contemplate the deeper meaning about them.

He really just needed a job. Because he needed money. Because everything was so damn expensive, and the prices of tuition for the university he wanted to attend next year practically gave him an aneurism. After hours of hiking across town, this was the only place sporting a help wanted sign taped against its dingy windows.

"Mattresses." Harry falters, looking around the cramped office for a sudden strike of inspiration, "Are very pleasant to sleep on."

Mr. Harvey of Mr. Harvey's Mattresses nodded solemly from the other side of his desk. He had a beer gut that seemed to be painfully tucked into a button down, and thin comb over that he had dyed blonde as a seemingly last attempt to look youthful. He and Harry were situated in the office in the back. The walls were decorated in frames, but instead of holding pictures of family members, they held photos of expensive queen mattresses. Harry was slightly uncomfortable.

The man kept trying to unwrap a small candy from the dish on his desk, but every time he pulled the wrapped off, the candy would slip from his sauasage fingers and roll under a nearby cabinet. Harry watched the sixth one go and wanted to pull his hair out.

"Mattresses are very pleasant indeed." Mr. Harvey declares, grabbing one of his three chins, "They are a place for lovers to come together as one, for children to dream in. Mattresses have seen death, and mattresses have seen birth." He took a deep breath and looked at Harry dramatically. "Mattresses are life."

Harry stared at him for a long minute. "Oh." He checked over his shoulder for the nearest exit, bracing himself to run in case this got too weird.

"You're hired." Mr. Harvey continues, after collecting himself from his dramatic monologue. "We need somebody working the night shift anyway, from 8-11 five days a week. You'll be working with Parker. A bit of an odd one, but you'll get along splendidly."

Harry was still a little shell-shocked from the hungry look in the man's eyes. "Oh."

And so Harry now sold mattresses.

----------------------------------------------

When he came home and told his parents, they were ecstatic, and his mum kept pinching his cheeks and calling him "her little salesmen." His sister kept telling him to give her an estimate on how much her mattress was worth.

Harry was slightly worried though, because he wondered how difficult it would be for two dudes to be surrounded by mattresses and for it not to be a little weird.

Turns out Parker was a girl.

This is a surprise to Harry, who shows up ten minutes early to the tiny building that's squashed between a coin-op laundry mat and a chinese takeout place. He gets a very unattractive work polo to wear and is shown the front desk. That's when Parker arrives.

Harry knows there is no such thing as a perfect girl. Because perfection is impossible, and beauty belongs to the eyes of the beholder and all that. But to this beholder, Harry thinks Parker is mixed imperfectly perfect.

Parker has a mess of light brown, unruly hair, that's pulled back into a bun atop her head, with bits and waves falling in precise randomness to frame her face. She has a cute ski slope nose that's adorned with a small diamond stud. Eyes that are dark blue and grey like an oncoming storm, which is exactly what he likes to imagine she is.