Sonata (Harry Styles FanFiction)

47. Secrets And Surprises

Darien Grace

After a bunch of pointless arguing that we all knew I would win anyway, Harry assented to allow me my usual breakfast— Starbucks. His only demand had been that I at least eat part of his oatmeal. I shit you not, fucking oatmeal. Frowning at him, I mechanically chewed the slimy, cardboard flavored goo. I had absolutely no fucking idea what was supposed to be so "good" about this shit. To me, oatmeal was just hot, gooey, fucked up cereal. I had no idea what the fuck he had been thinking. I understood the whole "healthy living" thing, but there were sandwiches and yogurt and perfectly good pastries just sitting right there in the case. Fucking unbelievable.

"You couldn't look more miserable if you tried," Harry chuckled, lifting a heaping spoonful of the still steaming goo to his mouth. I, screwed my face up, sticking my tongue out at him.

"You're force feeding me and I'm supposed to be happy about it?" I grumbled, taking a long and much needed drag from my cup. The caffeine was working wonders for my wrecked body.

"Yes, because if you don't eat something then you won't have the energy that I'm counting on later."

"Oh, really now? What could you possibly need this energy for?"

"It's a surprise." His grin was wicked; it caused a ball of nervous excitement to coil up in the pit of my stomach. I loved surprises, but I hardly ever got any. People were shit at keeping secrets from me and I usually figured them out before anything was even fully planned.

"When can I have it?"

"Finish your breakfast— all of it— and eat the rest of this." He pushed the remaining half of his "cereal" across the table to me. I sat there glaring at the offending food.

"How about I just finish the coffee?" I hedged, eyeing him hopefully.

"No deal. The oatmeal or the surprise waits."

"Couldn't you have at least gotten a muffin or something?"

"Would you have eaten it."

"Probably not."

"Then get over it and eat your breakfast."

"I hate you," I grumbled, shoving the biggest spoonful of the brown sludge into my mouth—it was atrocious. He had to bite back a laugh as I chewed dramatically, making a show of finishing off what had to be the worst invention in all of creation. "Your taste buds must be nonexistent," I huffed, downing my coffee to try and rid myself of the flavor of stale cardboard.

"I think the words you're searching for are 'highly evolved'."

"Nope, they've definitely regressed. There's this thing called flavor; I hear it's quite the amazing thing. It makes food taste good!"

"Might not want to offend the person giving you your surprise before you even get it?" He chuckled, pulling his beanie down over his years and shrugging on his leather jacked. After we'd left the townhouse, we'd had to run to his apartment so that he could grab a few more layers before our do-over day. November had finally hit and it was cold as fuck. While he'd been busy in another part of his apartment, I'd raided his closet again and hidden beneath my sweatshirt and North Face was another one of his t-shirts and two of his flannels. The extra layers were proving to be more than a little helpful.

"Well then, hurry up and give it to me so that I can keep talking to you." I smirked at him, poking my index finger into the spot I knew his dimple to be. Sure enough, the second my finger touched his skin, the little crater appeared from his own matching grin.