Harry Styles.

201.

He was knew to the building, you didn't have time to introduce yourself, but you sent flowers and a card from the flourist. You'd heard things about him, but you knew the community wasn't peachy on the idea of a celebrity moving into the upscale condominiums. You didn't see a problem with it. Someone had mentioned him having a kid but you hadn't seen him around. 

You watched as he fixed her hair, wrapping the pink scrunchie two gentle times around her soft brown hair. She looked about one and a half. She had his eyes and her delicate rose dusted cheeks creased into a small dimple on each cheek. His did the same. Fall whispered the leaves and he zipped up her small pea coat. It bunched up over her other layers but he didn't notice and she didn't care. He hoisted her onto his back and they continued on their walk and she continued on her run.

People had been complaining about the nosie coming from block 201. You had been out that night and didn't know what they were bickering about. There had never been any trouble from his block. Most of the time he was in and out quite quick and you still hadn't found the time to say hi. It was busy at work and it didn't seem like a priority. 

A letter arrived in the Thursday mail. It had gold ink on the outside, 'Thank You' it said. You open it to find a hand inked letter addressed from Studio 201, 'H. Styles & Styles'. A small picture of the two of them standing outside of their flat, presumably on move in day. There was a small welcome banner and a small girl was clutching an asortment of balloons. You put it back into the envelope, set it on top of the coffee table and continued to watch CNN. 

"Another night wasted doing homework. Lovely." I muttered and continued on setting my nagatives. The wedding shoot on Thursday had gone quickly. The hardest part was professionally printing them. People were always demanding and because the process took so long, I was always reluctant to get it started. I had done photography for nearly 15 couples in the last six months and although the money was a nice perk, it had nearly consumed everything I did. This included the business I shared with Emma, a photographer from New York who I had gone to school with. 

After graduation, I had made it my mission to move to London. New York City had lost it's shine and people always praised London. It had been an interesting move, including Emma deciding to join. She was a business major with a photography minor and when I had mentioned London in the first place, she had decided she was going to come with. With joint effort, we had established a name for ourselves by planning parties and providing photography sessions and photos of the event. For the most part, it was easy and fun. It was something I liked to do. But it had become overbearing. With Emma just having a baby, I felt guilty asking her to come over on a weeknight and process film or help plan for the next big party. She wasn't slacking by any means, but I felt bad asking for more effort from her when she really didn't have any left to give. 

I glanced at the clock. 8:30. If I got dressed right now, I would be able to make it to downtown before everyone was shitty. I switched on some music and skipped into the next room. Knowing most of the hardwork was done for the prints, a weight was lifted off my shoulders. I slipped on a pair of black skinny jeans and a tank top that showed off just enough chest. My collar bones jutted out and you could see the shadow of my rib cage but I ignored it. It wasn't something I needed to get my mind twisted in right now. Inbetween deciding to go to Funky Buddha or Fabric and applying lipstain, there was a knock at the door. I paused. It was Friday night and I didn't think I had invited anyone over, although I wouldn't be surprised if I had and just forgotten. 

I pulled a jacket over my tank top and slowly pulled the oversized wooden door open. First, I was hit by the late November wind. Second, I was hit by his piercing green eyes. He stood there in a long black wool coat that hung over a large frame with broad shoulders. Brown boots peeked out from under the ankles of his tight jeans. I could smell the expensive cologne that clouded around him and mixed with the smell of autumn. He stepped quickly between his two feet, leaning side to side, like he was nervous or in a hurry. I was suddenly very self conscious and I pulled my cardigan over my body, letting it cocoon me.