a taste like kiwi ↠ [h.s]

IV. Swallow

  ↠
 

One moment, it was blue skies...now you're rushing across the street with Mr. Styles's bullet coffee in one hand, and holding up your journal over your head with the other. You weren't dressed for a rainy day, as a matter of fact, there was only a 5 percent chance of rain. You rushed inside the building, shaking off the water that hit your journal. The pages inside hardly got wet, but you were most concerned about Mr. Styles's coffee. You felt around the cup as you walked toward his office, making sure it was still hot. You knocked on his door, waiting for him to say, "Come in." You opened the door and placed the cup on his desk, "Your drink might be a bit wet, it rained suddenly when I left the coffee--"

"No excuses."

"Apologies, Mr. Styles."

Mr. Styles looked up at you, "You really don't want to call me by my name, do you?"

"I don't think it's appropriate for work."

Mr. Styles looked at you, "I heard you talked to my fiancée...that wouldn't have anything to do with it, would it?"

You hesitated but spoke honestly, "She threatened my job, Mr. Styles."

Mr. Styles grinned, setting his pen down. He sighed as he stood up, "Sounds just like her." He spoke as he walked toward the far wall beside his desk, where a mini bar was placed with neatly organized bottles of wine, "I met Layla at a private party, her father Noah Grayson invited me to speak about what I thought would be  business." He grabbed a glass, his eyes looking through the various bottles, "In a way, it was business." Harry finally picked red wine and poured it into the glass, "In exchange for Noah's donation to help further grow Styles Records, I would marry Layla." He turned to you, "Sure, she's beautiful. But beauty isn't exactly what I'm looking for." Harry walked up to you, his eyes staring down at you.

You stammered, "Wh-what is it that you're looking for, Mr. Styles?"

Mr. Styles smirked, slowly leaning down to meet your eye level, "Ask me again, but say my name."

"What is it that you're looking for...Harry?"

Harry grinned, "Wouldn't you like to know." Harry handed you his glass-filled-wine, "I'm not taking any calls for the next hour, leave me be."

You watched him walk back to his desk, "Yes...sir." You placed the glass back onto the mini bar before heading for the door. Harry called out before you could walk out, "Oh, and (Y/N)?"

"Yes?"

"Everything I told you just now...keep it to yourself. Layla isn't the only one who can ruin your career."

You lowered your brows, "So, it's true? You're only marrying her because--"

"Leave me be." Harry said, turning his attention to his large opened windows. 

You stared at him for a moment, his back turned to you. You finally let go of the scenery, shutting the door behind you as you walked out. You noticed your desk wasn't covered with stacks of work, just a sticky note plastered on a few pages that read:

Make 15 copies.

                        - H

H, being Harry. You grabbed the small stack of papers and pressed them against your chest as you left your office. You ignored others, focusing on the task Harry assigned you...but you couldn't help but notice other employers in the building were taking weird glances toward you. You shrugged it off, entering room 209, Eddy's office/copy room. Eddy noticed when you walked in. He couldn't help but notice since it was a small room and he was always there. Eddy said bluntly while slightly chewing on the staff of his pen, "Is it true you picked up a pencil Mia dropped for 100?"