Mornings weren’t Jane’s forte. Though she picked up the early morning shift at the library because that’s what Mrs. Johnson does. She would rather not work at all than to not work beside Mrs. Johnson. No matter how much the old lady irks her, she loves her. She loves Mrs. Johnson. Jane was in the copy room when Harry Styles knocked on the door. Before he was going to pick up his book, he noticed Jane retreat to the back to print some papers, so he followed her. The small knock startled Jane, but did not urge her to turn around. The last page was printing, and she was not going to let Stranger Number One stop her from getting it.
It hadn’t rained that morning, so Harry had no reason for his sweater to be damp other than the fact that he’d spent all night writing down every single flower he could think of while trying to write down ideas for the new book he cannot write. So, there was cold water staining his sweater, but he didn’t want to be late to the library, although Jane would be there all morning, so he just showed up. And it wasn’t the fact that he didn’t have the intellect to write the book, it was the fact that the ideas were stuck in a wasteland of long nights and bar fights, and he couldn’t organize what event happens when.
It was all a mess. A hot mess for an attractive man, but he seemed to calm himself when thinking of the trashed flowers and the conversations he had with Jane. How she hates his book and everything about it, and how he somewhat respects that. The egotistical side of him wanted to tell her that he didn’t care what she thought and that the book was a hit, so a couple million people who refused to read true art were the ones truly missing out. But the side of him that wanted her to at least tolerate him told that other side to shut the fuck up and just go with it.
Jane could hear the breathing of the stranger still at the doorway when her paper finished printing, so she turned around. Harry looked like a ghost, pale, like Andrew. His arms were crossed over his chest and his feet leaned against the opposite side of the doorway where his body way. A black Calvin Klein sweatshirt hung on Harry’s body while tight black skinny jeans clung to his legs for dear life. Brown combat boot-like shoes matched his odd colored bandana tied in his hair. Jane could admit that Harry Styles could, at least, dress himself. “I was thinking maybe we could go out for some coffee or something when your lunch break comes. Well, coffee for you, I hate it.”
Jane chewed at skin on the inside of her cheek and grabbed her papers, brushing past Harry. Last night was to make sure that Harry wasn’t all that bad, and he isn’t. Jane just didn’t want to really continue seeing him. So, she ignored and stayed quiet. “Jane? Are you listening?” She wasn’t. He’d followed her to the desk in the middle of the children’s section, where she was dropping the papers to, and he noticed his surroundings. A large stuffed monkey hanging upside down on the ceiling with a book in his hand. Book stands and shelves lining the children’s section along with the computers for games. It was well organized.
Then, he followed her back to the teens/young adults section and to her desk. He leaned against the wood and waited for her response. Her eyes were cold and distant. “Why are you being so… standoffish?” Jane looked over at her computer and resumed her game of Candy Crush Saga to pass the time, and hopefully pass the message that she didn’t want to talk to Harry. He got it. As he began to walk away, he looked back at Jane who was watching his every movie. At first, she was going to revert her eyes to the screen, but Harry looked into her eyes that looked more blue today and flicked his head to one of the book shelves, then he began to walk in that direction.
After some mental debate as to whether or not she should follow him, she did. Although that could lead to embarrassment and his continuous chastising, she followed him with the watchful eye of Mrs. Johnson on her. Once she caught up to Harry, they browsed the sections, Harry pointing out books. “To Kill a Mockingbird,” he named.
“Read it.”
“Okay, then.” The boredom and overall disinterest in her voice slightly put Harry off. “The Perks of Being A Wallflower.”
“Are you serious? Fucking read it. Who do you take me for?” The question was rhetorical, and Jane thanked the stars that Harry ignored her. They continued walking until Harry stopped in front of Lolita. “If you’re looking at the book I think you’re looking at, I’m done talking to you.”
“It’s a fantastic book, I don’t understand.”
“Completely degrading. Young girls taken advantage of because a sick man can’t get over a false love he had when he was, what, twelve? It’s disgusting and pedophilia at its finest. I can’t believe you would glorify that.” Jane decided that jeans and a blouse would work for the day since she didn’t plan on moving much from behind her desk, so she sat down on the opposite bookshelf where Harry was standing. He shrugged.
“I mean, like, she went along with it. So what?”
“So what? Jesus Christ, Harry. Making love without love. Whatever. Move on.” He left the shelf and went around to the other side, telling Jane to wait there. She licked her lips and waited patiently for him to return from his book journey. The picking at her nails resulted in one of them becoming a lot shorter, and she made it a mental mission to clip her nails evenly. Once Harry returned, he had a big smile on his face. He was sure Jane wouldn’t find a problem with this one; The Great Gatsby.
“Classic, there is nothing you can say wrong with this.” Harry sat down beside her, looking at her. His hot breath fanned Jane’s neck and it normally would make her uncomfortable with the heat and condensation forming on the skin, but it somehow made her whole body warm. Warm in ecstasy and slight annoyance that he caused that.
Jane sighed. “Other than the fact that Gatsby was allowing this basically unrequited love he had for Daisy get in the way of fulfilling his life. Although said life was illegally gained, it was still unfair that he let this woman that before didn’t care of him to guide his life without being there.”
“You have strong opinions, Jane, but I assure you that Gatsby was doing nothing wrong. I mean, he loved the girl, so he was willing to do anything for her.”
“And take the fall for murder? That’s extreme, Harry.” Their whispered argument was all smiles and hard faces. Harry smiling and Jane serious, of course.
“I’m the best selling writer here, therefore I know what I’m talking about.”
“Last time I checked, millions of people, including myself, hate that book. Try again.” His smile was so luminescent. So brilliantly full of deception, blinding even the most carefullest of eyes. “Plus the fact that everyone knew—oh, we’re back to Gatsby, by the way—that everyone knew that Tom was cheating on Daisy with all these bitches except for fucking Daisy. Like, it’s so dumb. And she seemed to only be in it for the nice things because she wished for her daughter to be a fool like her.”
“But in those times, a fool was all a woman could be, Jane. I see times have changed, though.” Harry looked over at Jane who was already staring at the side of his face. A dimple appeared whenever he spoke and his smile captivated her. Beautiful man with a terrible sense of emotional direction.
Mrs. Johnson roamed the shelves, searching for the medium hair length brunette. When she settled on the T-V shelf of the young adults section of the library, she found two people instead of one. The woman, smiling brightly with a hint of anger in her face, but playful anger. The man, well, she couldn’t see his face, but she knew it was the beloved Harry and Jane. It was just the time to break it up. “Jane Bradley, if you don’t get back to your job, I will step up as your mother and hit you.”
Jane snapped her head to look up at Mrs. Johnson and Harry smiled, still not looking at the woman that possessed the familiar voice. “Sorry,” Jane apologized. She quickly got up from the floor and handed the book to Harry who followed suit, and began to walk in the opposite direction.
He would never forget the words he heard from Mrs. Johnson before he went to get his own book to read. “I don’t know what you’re doing, but keep it up, Harry.”
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harry and jane's arguments will be somewhat cute... except for when they're really mad. and no, mrs. johnson is not jane's mother, she was just kidding and saying that she would hit jane if she didn't get back to work. a joke, not harsh. normally, i update burgundy and psychotherapy on the same day, so just watch out for both to be updated when the other is. i love you, have a great day ♥
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Burgundy || HS
Fanfiction[COMPLETED] A color so dark that possesses such potential-burgundy. Could a color so dark be deemed worthy of love? If black could be the inevitable twilight and it could be adored with a side of whiskey, then surely burgundy could be worthy of some...
