Aren't They All? (3rd Chapter)

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Harmony's POV:
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“(He clears his throat, finally realising that I don’t want any social encounter) Yes.” I reply instantly, after jotting down his order: “Very well. One whiskey blended refill coming right up.” I place my notepad back in my apron pocket, then I lean my arm to collect his glass. With no further warning, his fingertips place themselves over mine, which were already cupping the glass.



I turn my head, firing a warning look at him; but all he does is smirk. I wiggle my hand out of his, and place the glass on the tray.
 “Playing hard to get are we, love?” He crosses his arms over his chest, as his stares change to an amused impression. “(I pretend that I didn’t hear his comment) Ten minutes and your order will be at your table.”



He said love, but then again everyone in the UK says this word like it doesn’t mean anything. I feel sad when I hear it said like that, because it’s supposed to be meant for people share feelings for each other. Feelings of care, respect, and loyalty. But that man over there sure didn’t have any of these pure emotions in his words. I have a strong feeling that his brain is centered in between his legs, and not up in his skull.



He is beautiful, externally. But I’m afraid that his internal is melted and crippled. What am I even blabbering to myself? Who would find love at a bar filled with London’s worse males?
“Hey! Did you get the order?” I nod at Serena, as she walks closer to the bar. “Could you take his order? I’ll prepare it, but please serve it to him.”



She nods, caring less of what might have happened. Not because she doesn’t care usually, but because we both got used to such endless encounters. I pour the mix in his cup, and place it on Serena’s tray. I sigh deeply, going back to washing the rest of the used glasses; behind the barstool. “Rough prick?” Jonathan, the bar tender, asks me in a light matter. “(I laugh thinly) Aren’t they all?”



He chuckles under his breath, leaving me back to my cleaning phase. “(She taps her long fingernail on the counter, smiling at me in a strange expression) He doesn’t want it.” I furrow my eyebrows at Serena, wiping my hands from the water. “How? He specifically asked me for a refill on his whiskey bl-…” She cuts me off by laughing a little.



“He doesn’t want it because I’m the one serving it.” My eyes widen at her words, slightly shocked at his request. “I’m not going back there.” I shake my head, as I begin to dry the glasses. “Oh come on Harm. Just go put the glass on his table, and come back. He wants you to serve it, not to ride the back of his car.” I laugh in irony, then call my reply: “Are you positive? Because his filthy hands touched mine, the first time I was there.”



She rolls her eyes impatiently: “I’ll be watching, just go already.” I nod, breathing my little tension out of my nostrils. This man will not stop, but I think I know how to make him. I won’t even say a word to him, I’ll simply place the glass and turn my heels to walk back here. Yup, sounds like a plan. “Alright.” I take Serena’s tray from her hands, and walk towards his location.



I see his smirk start to form over his face, believing that I will actually give him the time of day. With the fastest I could be, I place the glass on the table, and twirl to walk back. Unfortunately, my speed was not a winner to the palm wrapped around my wrist. I look at Serena, and she nods at me; whispering something in Jonathan’s ear.



At least I know he’ll be handled properly in seconds, but for now; do I turn around?
 “Am I not attractive enough, to be granted by your face instead of your bum? Although, (He chuckles) I don't mind my current view so much.” I cough in complete astonishment, to what he is staring at from my back side.

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