labyrinth Δ harry styles

Door Ten: Oxygen

"I HONESTLY DIDN'T think you would show up," he admitted. Indira laughed to herself, knowing that it was an option she previously considered. He opened the door wider for her to enter, so she did.

Her mouth moved before she could even think because her vision caught the spectacle of his apartment. "You would have pestered me about it if I didn't."

Her eyes met with modern yet simplistic decor distributed evenly around the place. Some walls were painted an eggshell white while the complementary walls were painted a pewter grey that was a perfect color between black and white. To her immediate left was the grand kitchen with marble top counters and a six foot long island in the center. Pots and pans hung by the white tiled back splash, and other cooking jars and electronics were lined evenly against the wall. Just behind the island was a bar area with three stools that seemed to be untouched. And behind the bar was a space for a dining room that held a circular dining table with five transparent plastic chairs.

To her immediate right was a half bath, or so she assumed by the sink she could see from the slightly ajar door. She looked up to find that ceilings weren't as low as she expected rather they were high above her. She could see through the glass stairs above her, but she didn't know where they led.

"Do you want me to take your jacket?" he asked pulling her out of her amazement. Indira didn't know it, but he was watching her check out his place. It wasn't in a creepy way as much as it looked like it, he just knew there was something different about her that he couldn't quite place his finger on...yet.

When he invited her over, his honest intention was to try to get to know her better. He saw the cogs in her internal machine move differently than anyone he's ever met, and he wanted to figure out why and how they moved in such a way that was disparate.

"Oh, yeah thanks." Indira slid off her jacket and handed it off to Harry who hung it on a metal peg nailed next to the door. She was surprised when she didn't see him clad in dress pants and a pastel colored button down, instead he was dressed casually in a grey t-shirt and dark jeans. She was even more surprised to see the array of black and grey tattoos that swirled around his—He's so muscular–arms in no distinct pattern. Indira took a few steps forward and that was when she smelled the food cooking atop the electric stove.

"Please make yourself comfortable," he said quietly to her, motioning to the entire space he owned.

"You're apartment is so beautiful," she continued to marvel. She couldn't help but stare at everything around her. Everything felt luxurious, even the air was different.

"Thanks, but it's nothing really," he deadpanned.

"Are you kidding?" She turned around with a grin plastered on her face, "This is like a Barbie Doll dream house for me."

Without her seeing, Harry only chuckled at her astonishment. He didn't see it as anything grandiose, but maybe that was because he was so used to this way of living. Even before Harry was born, his family was very well known in the industry—which eventually led to Harry's career—and that meant for a lot of money in their pocket at the end of the day. All Harry ever grew up was in big houses with expenses being thrown around as if any of it mattered. At one point it did, but he soon realized that that expensive taste of living wasn't what he really needed.

"I'm making shrimp teryaki, I hope that's alright," he said after a moment.

"That's perfect, thank you."

Indira moved to sit down by the bar, but she almost didn't want to disturb the stillness of the decor. She moved back to sit at the dining table, but she was afraid of the fingerprints she would leave on the non-opaque seats. She thought about moving to the living room which was a few short paces away, but she didn't want him to think she was snooping around without his knowledge.