Harry: You and Harry were walking around the shopping centre looking for some new clothes for an upcoming vacation you two were having. Harry had left you to go to Jack Wills while you looked around Victoria Secret for a bikini and some lingerie you were going to get to surprise him one of the nights you were in the hotel room in Paris. You skimmed your fingers through the rack of lingerie looking for the perfect one when you bumped into someone. You looked up and met bright blue eyes. Taylor. She looked you up and down, a look of disgust crossing her face.
"Is Harry's little whore finging clothes to where for her clients?" She smirked.
You clenched your teeth and fists and glared at her.
"Awe is wittle whore mad?" She laughed.
Your anger got the best of you and your fist flew into her jaw. She gasped and held her jaw before launching at you and grabbing onto your hair while you shoved and punched her until you two were pulled apart.
"What's going on here?" Harry's deep voice spoke from behind you, tightening his grip on your waist.
"She called me a fucking whore." You spat.
He sighed and dragged you out of the shopping centre and practically carried you to the car.
"I know I probably should be scolding you or some shit but you looked fucking hot." He smirked.
You tried to hold back a smile while slapping him in the chest before buckling your seat belt and then he drove out of the shopping centre and toward your flat.
