CEO // Harry Styles

19

Flashes of light blind me.

My hand that isn't held by Harry goes to shield over my eyes protectively as we shove our way through the crowd.

The ruthless male and female population in the crowd have no remorse, relentlessly pushing the button on their cameras to make a quick buck.

I hope I'm worth a pretty penny to those publishing companies.

"Harry, is she your new girlfriend?" One shouts, and flashes an obscene amount of moments through his high end camera.

"Is this the girl you brought home the other night to your flat?" His hand tightens on mine, and gives a rather rough shove to one of the photographers,

"Harry, do you think the merger with Malik with improve your company?"

Why didn't we use the garage? Or have a driver come pick us up, or something! I'm sweating, and I'm uncomfortable with the many wandering eyes.

"Harry Styles, the ladies man, everyone." One of the paparazzi shout.

This is madness, and judging by the large crowd, it will take ages to get to the door.

"Come into my side." Harry says rather loudly in my ear. I look around, and decide its the right decision noting the mob.

I curl my knuckles into his white linen shirt, and duck my head into his chest. I'm not very close to him.

"Don't you think she could have been a bit prettier?" Oh.

Harry's hand comes around my waist, pushing me, making my body flush against his.

"Fuck off." I hear him say. I'm surprised, and I look up at him, but he's not looking at me. He's looking at a photographer. And by the looks of his stone cold face, he's terrified of the man holding me.

"Bloody hell." Harry says. It's low, and it's a mutter. They weren't supposed to hear that, but I did.

My feet move along with his. "Move it!" A voice booms. Two men dressed in all black come from opposite directions in front of us.

"Clear the way, sir." Everyone does so, and I wonder why it's so easy for them.

Why are they helping us? Then I realize, they're security guards.

He needs security guards?

I look around me, and the chaos. Yes. Yes he does.

Soon enough were in the hallway of Harry's flat. "Come." Dirty thoughts run my mind, when I see his hand held out to mine. Long, curvy fingers...

He takes mine without consent and tugs me into a waiting elevator.

"I thought we were going to your flat." I raise an eyebrow. Who's apartment are we in?

"We are." I give him a questioning eye. What? "We're just using a different entrance today."

It all makes sense. "I noticed." I sneer. I've had to go through so much in the last ten minutes. That's more people I've encountered since my high school graduation. Niall had to calm me down.

He breathes in deeply, and turns to me. I've almost forgotten the two security guards in the elevator with us, but one blows out a bit too loud of a breath.

"Are you well?" He asks me. I'm shocked. This is the closest to sincere he's been with me since his flat last week.

"Yes." I decide to adorn the details. I'm not really 'well', but I'm not hovering over a well vomiting my guts out.

Thats a mental image.

"Good." He mutters.

"Good?" I question him suspiciously.

"I am glad you are well." Holy shit!

I cannot help my grin. "Really?"

"I am not going to repeat myself, Adelaide." He frowns.

I have come to the conclusion that Harry Styles is often too easily prone to a frown. He's pushed to the edge to easily from a simple question or statement.

The elevator dings. "That took a long while." I state.

"I am the top floor." He informs me. "If you had forgotten." I did forget, Styles.

I nod my head. Please don't be in a bad mood.

"Are you going to be in a bad mood now?" I grunt.

"I am always in a bad mood around you." He hides smile with a grab of his thumb and pointer finger upon his chin. He stretches the skin.

"Why are you smiling?" I ask him. I can't help my own smile when I see it come to life.

"I am not." The smile drops, and a grim line replaces it. "Now let's go. You are staying here tonight." My mouth opens, and his finger beats me to it. "Do not fight me tonight."

And I finally decide not to. I'm much too fatigued to even lift a finger, let alone fight with him any more.