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jealous

Harry hasn't seen (Y/N) in almost a week and he thinks he's going to go crazy.

She had gotten sick last Monday and insisted she get better first before they saw one another, for fear of Harry getting sick. He had begged and pleaded with her that he didn't mind getting sick for her, that all he wanted was to be with her and help her feel better. Each time he was stonewalled with her firm—albeit, still very sweet—declinations. She could be a stubborn little thing if she felt like it, and her sickness was just thing the bring that side out of her.

But yesterday—finally—she had texted him that she was feeling better and was sure she wasn't contagious. She had sent him a short message saying she wanted to see him, and couldn't wait for his "kissies" (he's pretty sure both teared up and almost nutted off thinking about finally kissing her again). Harry had immediately arranged reservations at a Italian restaurant outside of town as soon as he received the text. He had planned to take her there the day after she had initially gotten sick and began declining each of his invitations, so he couldn't help but feel so excited to finally see her and take her on the date he'd been planning for over a week now.

Now, all the stood between Harry and finally seeing his angel again, was a day full of appointments.

The shop was busy—busier than it had been these past couple of weeks. Although Harry was happy that business was going well, all he wanted to do was go home. He had told (Y/N) that he would be at the shop till close, and that she could come by or wait at his house. He hadn't heard anything on her verdict, having had to leave his phone in his office as his appointment for a large thigh piece came in an hour early. Hours had passed since then, Zayn and Liam had both gone home for the day, leaving Harry with his last client of the day.

The man seemed nice enough, and came rather prepared which Harry appreciated. He was quiet as Harry set up, striking up small talk at the appropriate moments. The man—Ethan—had requested a small hand piece of a moth covering the expanse of the top of his hand. It was simple enough.

Harry was halfway through the piece when the bell atop the door rung as someone entered.

He hadn't expected anyone else for the day, unless it was a walk-in, but when he flicked his eyes towards the door he was met with a surprise. (Y/N) bounced through the threshold, a smile on her face that caused a few butterflies to flap through Harry's tummy. While he wasn't happy she wouldn't allow him near her while she was ill, taking in her appearance now—how bright and lovely she looked—Harry didn't think he would have been able to handle seeing her anything less than perfectly healthy and happy.

She wore a pretty pink, flowy top that Harry loved (there were these splits down the sleeves that made it all too easy for him to touch her warm skin) and a pair of high rise jeans that accentuated the shape of her hips and the full of her ass. It took everything in Harry to keep himself sat on his stool. He wanted nothing more than to interrupt his tattooing and pull her into his lap and kiss her until he was dizzy. But, he couldn't.

He had to be professional, especially in front of a client.

"Hi, H!" she called as she stepped around the front desk station, wiggling her fingers at him in a small wave.

"Hi, (Y/N)," Harry greeted, a smile on his face with his dimples denting his cheeks. He really was happy to see her, happiest he's been in a week he's sure.

She quietly excused herself to go put her bag and things in his office, shooting Harry a shy smile that reminded him of when they first started seeing one another. Harry resumed his work, but he noticed from the corner of his eye the way his client practically broke his neck trying to watch (Y/N) disappear down the hall. Harry flicked his eyes towards Ethan, taking in the way his gaze was still trained on the threshold to the hallway.