𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐑! | harry styles

𝐗𝐕𝐈𝐈𝐈

MY new cat is the cutest thing I've ever seen. His body is pure white, but a black spot covers his right eye. His name is Sam, and he is only about a year old. He's so friendly and he fits right in at home.

After my dramatic phone call with Harry, Sam is the only man I can trust. I got him the next day, just to have someone I can cuddle with. It's a sad fact. I realize that I'm turning into the quintessential cat lady, but I've accepted that and moved on.

A week later, Sam has become completely comfortable.

I'm working at my table, once again on my laptop doing research. He hops up on the table, shuffling some of the papers around.

"Bad cat. Get off of the table."

He slinks over to me, wrapping his long white tail around my wrist. He stares up at me with clear blue eyes.

"What could you possibly want? I just fed you." I pick him up and set him on the floor.

He purrs and cuddles up to my legs under the table. He likes the silk of my pajama bottoms and rubs his face over the fabric.

"Stop that." I kick him away gently.

I push Sam away from my legs and start to get back to work, but the universe has other plans. My townhouse is filled with the chimes of my doorbell and the ringing echoes off the walls.

I look down at my less than flattering set of pajamas, but can't bring myself to care about looking appropriate for guests.

I get up from the table and go to the door, looking through the peephole.

A set of vibrant green eyes stare me down and my heart takes off like a pack of wild horses. At first, I think Harry is on other side, but then recognize the youthful face. George Styles is at my door.

I think about the advantages and disadvantages of the situation. I shouldn't even be considering talking to him. His father has made it clear that he wants me to have no contact with his family.

I open the door a crack. I don't think George was expecting me to answer because he looks slightly surprised.

"Hi, Alyssa." He smiles tentatively.

"Hi." I smile in return.

I haven't seen George in months, at least two, and he somehow looks older. His face is covered in a shadow of whiskers and his hair has been cut a little shorter than I remember. He's also a couple inches taller, looking more and more like his father. He's dressed in a school uniform complete with khakis and a navy blazer.

"May I come in? I want to talk to you." He shoves his hands in his pockets.

"Shouldn't you be in school?" I point out his backpack.

"I decided to ditch. This is more important. Can I come in?" he repeats.

"I don't think that's such a good idea."

"Please, Alyssa." His eyes look so sad and just like Harry, he has a way of making me crumble.

Against my better judgment, I open the door and let him through.

Sam immediately took notice of our visitor and circled George's feet.

"Hi, cat," he says, looking down.

"He's new. Sorry if he's a little too affectionate," I say.

"No, it's okay."

We stand in my foyer for an awkward couple of seconds.

"So, would you like something to drink?" I ask.

"Yes, please."

I lead him into the kitchen and he decides on water, so I hand him a bottle. He sits on one of the stools and plays with the cap.