Capture

The Market

The rest of the week flew by smoothly. Niall and the gang even surprised me with a mini party for my first week, but I was secretly glad when the weekend finally arrived.

I stood in my kitchen, gazing out the large windows that framed the city skyline bathed in warm sunlight. My iced coffee rested in a Mason jar—the only thing I'd unpacked so far, since I was still avoiding the boxes cluttering my apartment.

A knock at the door pulled me away from the view. Coffee in hand, I opened it.

"Harry?" I blinked, surprised to see him standing there. Black jeans, white Converse, a denim shirt layered over a Rolling Stones tee, sunglasses hanging from his collar, and a black beanie struggling to contain his curls.

"Were you expecting someone else?" he teased, grinning.

"No—just wasn't expecting anyone." I laughed, feeling oddly pleased.

"So, no plans then?"

"Just a lazy Saturday."

"Perfect. I was about to head to the farmers market down the street. Want to come?"

My heart skipped a beat. "Really?" I smiled, taking a sip of my coffee.

Harry's grin widened. "I wasn't sure if you'd like it, but now..." His eyes roamed over my oversized grey sweater, boyfriend jeans, and large glasses slipping down my nose. "I think you'll fit right in."

"Hope that's not an insult!" I laughed, grabbing my keys and bag.

"Scout's honor, it's a compliment." He raised his hand solemnly.

We walked down the hall, laughing. In the lobby, the receptionist called out to me with a creepy grin. "Where you off to, Emma darling?"

"Just out for the day," I said curtly, clutching Harry's arm and quickening my pace.

"Don't be gone too long, or I might worry!" he shouted after us.

I forced a fake pity laugh as we stepped outside.

Harry slipped on his sunglasses, grinning. "Sounds like you have an admirer."

I groaned, shoving him playfully. "Shut up!"

"He really likes you, Ken does."

"Not my type."

Harry smirked. "So you're one of those girls."

"What kind?"

"Girls with standards," he said mockingly. "How dare you."

I stopped, taking in the vibrant market scene—the flowers, the stalls, the mingling smells of fresh bread and spices. The energy was contagious. Harry seemed oblivious to it all as he strolled ahead, watching me with amusement.

"This isn't your average farmers market," I said, scanning the colorful maze of vendors and crowds.

Harry laughed. "What, no flashy markets back home?"

"Not like this."

"Then you're in for a treat." He extended his hand. I took it, stepping into the bustling street.

A crowd caught my eye—a group of young guys breakdancing on the pavement. We joined the applause, mesmerized by their flips and spins.

One of the performers approached me, holding out his hand. Hesitant, I glanced at Harry. His encouraging grin pushed me forward.

"Stand still," the man instructed as he positioned Harry and me back to back.

I rested my head against Harry's shoulder blades, feeling his spine curve against mine. My nerves fluttered as the crowd oohed and aahed.

"We're juggling blades around these brave volunteers!" a voice announced.

Knives? My stomach flipped.

"Oh God," I whispered, watching the gleam of knives as one juggler clumsily dropped them all. Doubt crept in.

Just as panic began to rise, Harry's hand slid into mine, fingers lacing tightly.

His touch sent a jolt through me—warm and steady. His thumb gently massaged the back of my hand, grounding me.

"Ready? One, two, three!" the crowd counted.

A knife zipped past my head; I squeezed my eyes shut, a tiny yelp escaping me as I clung to Harry.

The crowd erupted in cheers as the act ended.

The juggler lifted me up, announcing, "Let's hear it for our stars!"

Harry released my left hand but held my right, turning to meet my gaze.

His green eyes held a mischievous sparkle.

"Never thought you'd do that, did you?"

I smiled back, cheeks warm. "First time for everything. Glad you were here."

His grin deepened, fingers tugging mine as he pulled me toward the next adventure.