Letting Go (Harry Styles AU)

Chapter 50: Stuck With Me

Harry: 15 days post-surgery

"Hey, Nattie!"

"Ah, whoa don't come in here!" She yelled frantically, rushing down the hallway towards me with her hands held up in the air as a warning.

I smirked, reaching up to touch the white powder that matted her nose and cheeks. "You into coke now Nat? I thought you were more of a dip kind of girl?"

She smacked my hand away and rubbed at her face, only causing the powder to spread even further across her cheeks. "You're so obnoxious." She groaned, a tiny smile at her lips. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to show you something," I said, holding up my phone with one hand. "The better question is what are you doing?" I asked comically, motioning at her pasty complexion.

She bit her lip and rocked back and forth on her heels, sneaking a glance behind her towards the kitchen and then looking back at me. "Nothing." She shrugged, her eyes flitting to the floor. Then she started pushing me back towards her front door. "I'm gonna need you to leave though. You can come back after dinner tonight."

"Nattie, what..."

"Nope, go away Styles." She grinned, attempting to use her full body weight to get me to the door. Once there, she held it open and motioned for me to leave.

I stood there, arms crossed over my chest and eyebrows raised. "Give me one good reason."

She leaned forward, pressing a kiss to my cheek. "Because you love me." She smirked wickedly, head tilting to the side.

I rolled my eyes, biting my lip to fight a grin. I stepped towards her and pressed my right hand to her cheek. "You got me there," I whispered, leaning in so that our noses almost touched. Just as her eyes began to close, I made a break for it.

I took off in a sprint towards the kitchen, running down the hallway and through the living room, only stopping when I saw the tornado on my left. Mixing bowls and spatulas were scattered all over the kitchen countertops and piled high in the sink, paper towels were strewn about in a sore attempt at cleaning, and there were random glops of butter, sugar, and nuts all over the floor. Oh, and flour. Flour everywhere.

"Damn," I muttered, surveying the destruction as Nat came bounding in beside me. I shot her a sideways glance and nudged her playfully. "Looks like I don't have to worry about you being a drug lord."

She ran a hand through her hair and sighed. "It was supposed to be a surprise."

"Well, I'm definitely surprised you could make this big of a mess by yourself." I chuckled, leaning against the counter. "What are you trying to make?"

"Mincemeat pie."

My eyes widened. "Wait, really?"

She shrugged, her cheeks heating up. "Yeah, I remember you saying it was your favorite. You made mine so I wanted to make yours."

I grinned. Nat couldn't bake to save her life. In fact, she claimed she couldn't even make toast...and after seeing this kitchen, it wasn't much of a stretch to imagine a smoking toaster in the mornings. Yet, she wanted to make my favorite dessert as a surprise. This girl was crazy and I loved it. I reached over, pulling her towards me and squeezing her in a hug. "That's really sweet babe."

She leaned into me, trying to hide the red on her cheeks, and took a deep exhale. "Yeah...except it's not going so well right now." She stretched out her hand, gesturing to the bomb that went off in the kitchen.

I leaned my head against the top of hers. "Want some help?"

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"Wait, did you say one cup of flour or one and a half?" She asked thirty minutes later, her eyes scrunched as she stared back at my phone on the counter.