Little Lolita // h.s.

03. reminiscent

CHARLOTTE*****

For some reason, I couldn't shake Harry from my head. Our quick encounter replaying in my head for days after. Thoughts of him would come and go, but his presence in the back of my mind was constant.
On my first day at my private Catholic school, I scribbled his name in my notebook without even realizing it.
"Harry"

Even after a week, I still was hearing his voice echoing in my mind.

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"Oh no! Your drink is running low, here come with me," I could hear my mother's footsteps walking back into the kitchen, bringing one of her coworkers with her. I couldn't help but roll my eyes. Will she leave this poor guy alone?

I leaned against the counter top, the marble cold against my exposed midriff. I look down at my phone, in hopes to avoid any socialization if at all possible. 

"Oh! Harry, this is my daughter, Charlotte. Charlotte, this is Mr. Styles." my mothers words were loud and excited as she grabbed my arm roughly. I jumped, startled by her sudden touch and roughness. In her grip, she pulled me closer to both of them, but mainly 'Mr. Styles.'

I looked up and I finally saw him. His confident smile is what caught my eye. The white teeth. The slight grin behind the awkward look. His short scraggly chocolate hair that I felt the need to run my fingers through. His emerald green eyes. The dimples. The jawline. The cheekbones. The petite lashes. The cross necklace. The peek you got of his tattooed arm when he moved it, the sleeve revealing bits. I wanted to see more.

His lips curled into a soft smile as our eyes met. It was a warm and welcoming smile. I couldn't help but notice his eyes scanning me, and mine continued to scan him.

He reached out his muscular hand.

"Call me Harry," his British accent thick, his words were soft and velvety.

"Call him Mr. Styles," my mother opposed, sharply. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see her flirtatiously smiling at the man, but he seemed to pay no mind, or perhaps, he did not even notice.

Finally, I took his hand in mine and shook it hastily, his warm hand feeling so good touching mine, but I quickly retreated my hand to my side.

"Nice to meet you, Charlotte." his eyes were still locked on mine. I couldn't help but melt at the sound of his saying my name, just how he said it gave me butterflies. 

"Nice to meet you as well, Mr. Styles," I only called him that because my mother was present. If she wasn't, I would not be obliging to her foolish instruction.

After refilling his drink, my mother swiftly handed it back to him when she heard the doorbell ring. "I'll be right back!" she wasn't even facing us when she spoke.

I couldn't help but roll my eyes. "No she won't." I muttered, feeling like she'd just get distracted once more.

"What?" he finally asked, shaking his head, then raising an eyebrow. He hasn't seemed to break his gaze from me since we were introduced. I couldn't help but smirk when I realized this. 

"Nothing." I found the matter too trivial to even complain about.

An idea quickly flashed through my mind. I grabbed a red solo cup from a stack of them on the counter then grabbed the bottle of Scotch my mother had just used to refill Harry's drink. I poured the drink into the cup, filling it less then halfway. I sat the bottle back down on the counter, putting the cap back on and taking a huge swig of the drink. I almost instantly vomited, the taste was disgusting. I gagged as I swallowed it, trying to maintain my confident physique. I quickly regained my composure and looked at him as he watched me, waiting for him to say something. After all, he was the reason I had taken that drink.

"Aren't you a bit young to be drinking?" he asked quietly, blankly starring at me.

Of course that's what he'd say.

"Aren't you a bit old?" I teased, pointing to the glass in his hand as I attempted to hold back a soft laugh.

"Only 32, you're never too old to drink," he answered, shrugging as he took a sip of his drink.

I was about to continue talking to him when I heard my mother's heels clicking down the tile floor in the hallway towards us. She would kill me if she knew I had had a drink. Her footsteps were getting closer, and panic began to consume me. I quickly took another sip of the drink in my red cup, gagging once more as I handed the cup to Harry. I leaned in and kissed him on the cheek softly. Before he could say anything, I ran towards the doorway, turning around to look back at him. I pursed my lips and pressed my index finger against them. "Shhhhhh," I winked at him, playfully then turned away, running for the stairs to go to my room. I needed to be alone to think now.

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A/N: sorry for the short chapter, I just wanted to do the last chapter in Charlotte's POV