sign {h.s.}

capítol set

n. preliminary note y'all: it's not louis and if you say it is you're toxic as hell

secondary note, i'm very aware that it's rude to out people. y'all don't need to lecture me in the comments. that statement was consciously put there as a way to show character growth please god stop w the comments coming at ME (a member of the lgbtqia+ community) informing me how rude it is to out people. thanks!

"YOU'VE GOT TO be kidding me," I deadpan, it being the only thing I can think to do. The past two and a half weeks of my life hae been dictated by my accidental run-ins with the one and only Harry Styles. Infuriating as I find them, they become more so when I notice that he appears to be enjoying the spontaneity more than I. When not dealing with him on the basis of Lola's education, my tolerance for him is dangerously low.

He's made it abundantly clear that he dislikes me, and I've made it undeniably obvious that my feelings mirror his own. Yet in spite of our mutual distaste for the other, he enjoys my company. He likes to make me squirm. He derives an obvious pleasure from watching the annoyance spread across my face as he switches languages like a sport. "Das ist kein Witz," he says, his jawline accentuated as his mouth forms to the angles required to produce the throaty, guttural sound of the language. [German: It's no joke.]

I don't dignify him with an answer. Already my patience is wearing thin. Instead, I shove past him.

Besides Harry, there are the three other people in the room: Lola, Drew, and Kathy. Lola is in the middle of a conversation with one of them. From their facial expressions, I can tell that it's lighthearted. If there is one thing that I've learned, ASL is an exceptionally expressive language. Body language is one of the easiest ways to tell the direction of conversation. "I'm Kathy," the other girl immediately stands to greet me.

"Cassidy," I introduce myself, setting the pizzas down on my desk to shake her hand. Though, before I even am able to offer my hand, I'm already enveloped in a hug. "Oh," I gasp the air puffing out from my lungs. I'm slightly caught off guard by the interaction, but I hug her back nonetheless.

"I'm really glad to meet you. It's good to have another girl around here," she admits. Then, dipping her voice to a lower tone, "usually, there is one more guy that hangs out with us. But between you and me, I think Harry scares him."

"I do not scare him, Kath," Kathy's efforts for secrecy are foiled by Harry's interjection. His tone is nonplussed and rather bored, as though this comment doesn't bother him at all.

The positioning of the room strikes me then. Everyone is paired off. Drew and Lola are engaged in conversation on Lola's bed and Kathy and I are talking by our desk. Harry doesn't engage. He is positioned at the front of the room. He's sitting on Lola's desk chair with his feet rested casually on her desk as he observes the rest of us. His eyes are locked on Lola and Drew's conversation, but his ear is attuned to mine and Kathy's. He's everywhere in the room, despite not physically partaking in a conversation.

Kathy snorts, "oh yeah? Why did he stopped hanging around with us after that night that we all went bar-hopping together, then?" Kathy turns to give me a side look inclined to explain the information that I don't know. "We all did an early move-in. We're talking about our friend Beau. He lives with Drew. Last week we  all went out to a party together. That was actually the first time we met Harry. Things were going good, I though, but ever since, Beau has refused to hang out with all of us in a group."

Despite the smug look on her expression, Harry looks passive. There is this calmness to him—almost as though he is not bothered by the insinuation of Beau's apparent dislike of Harry. Perhaps he is just used to it. Regardless, he doesn't seem to mind at all when the conversation is even interpreted for Lola and Drew's benefit.