for the most part - h.s.

Dishes

  "Don't worry, Charlotte. That pictures just for me."

  We stayed silent for a few moments, but it was comfortable. The kind of silence I was used to with Harry. Where there wasn't a pressure to come up with something extraordinary to say, and I didn't feel like I was with Harry Styles, singer in One Direction, the most famous singing group in the world. I felt like I was with Harry, this nerdy boy who didn't have any friends except for me.

  "So, Big-Shot, what've you exactly been up to? I try to not believe the gossip magazines, because obviously I'd rather hear it from your own mouth." Trying to make it sound nonchalant doesn't work at all. There's no way you could miss my voice quavering and my nervous fingernails being bitten at. Not like it's my fault though, considering I was laying in my bed with, as stated before, Harry Styles.

  "Oh, Charlie. My life really is exciting. Honestly, they don't mess up much of the stuff concerning what we've been working on. I hope you get to meet the boys sometime. They really are great guys. I mean, you get tired working with the same four people for three consecutive years of your life, but that's also pretty good. They give you a head-start if you wanna like go off and go solo once the whole band is over with. Because let's face it, we aren't gonna last that much longer. Twenty fifteen is sneaking up on us, dearest Charlotte," He puts on a theatrical voice on the last sentence, making me smile. I don't hear him act like that much anymore.

  "What do you mean? About two-thousand fifteen?"

  "A five year contract, and the last year is coming up rather quickly. We can either re-sign for five more years or quit while we're ahead and possibly find another label to sign with for a shorter amount of time or maybe we could all hit it solo for a little bit and then settle down. I know I was thinking very seriously about solo, but I don't really know what I'd do afterwards. Like what I would want to happen to me. I mean, I assume a regular life would be impossible to go back to. But I don't really want to be involved in a huge singing career for much longer after One Direction is over. I'm not really sure Char. Let's cross that bridge when we get there?" I watch Harry run his fingers through his hair. This topic obviously stresses him out, but I want to know more about what he's talking about with what he wants to happen afterwards.

  "Well, what do you want to happen afterwards?" He looks at me sideways and lets out a short hmph.

  "Let's cross that bridge when we get there, Char," His fingers softly tap my stomach as he smiles gently at me.

  "Sandwiches are ready!" My mum's voice makes me jump. Harry removes his hand from my stomach and sits up quickly. I can tell he's embarrassed, and so am I.

  I sit up to meet his eyes and give him a reassuring smile before grabbing the sleeve of his shirt and standing up, making my way towards the door. I hear him stand up and walk a little quicker to meet me once I am halfway down the stairs. He grabs the end of my braid and twists it with his finger before passing me and mouthing "Missed you Charlie."

  Mum and Oliver are sitting at the table, with two plates set out for me and Harry. For about twenty minutes we are all making small talk as Mum asks Harry some questions about the boys and how the tours are.

  It was Oliver who made it awkward.

  "Hooked up with any fit girls lately, Har?" He asked it with a piece of sandwich falling out of his mouth, and his eyes wide. Mum gasped and my mouth dropped open.

  "Oliver!" Mum screeched. "What a rude question to bring up at the dinner table of all places!"

  "Mrs. Arke, it's really okay. Trust me, I've had much ruder questions screamed at me through an airport," Harry dismissed the question with a coolness I've only ever seen in celebrities. Mum sighed and got up to take her plate and cup to the sink before exiting the dining room. Oliver leaned closer to Harry and whispered (although not quietly enough for me not to hear him),

  "Heard you dated Taylor Swift and Kendall Jenner! How'd you score those broads?" Harry chuckled nervously and pushed Oliver away by the forehead. I got up and picked up the boys dishes and started washing them in the sink. Oliver excused himself with a burp and I felt Harry watching me from the table.

  "You could help too," I snapped. I hated when people just sat there watching me. His chair scraped against the floor as he came to stand next to me and help me wash dishes. He picked up the dish soap and poured a large amount on his palm. I watched him rub his hands together to create a sudsy mess which was dripping onto the floor.

  "Harry be careful you're getting it every-" I was interrupted by Harry slamming his palm onto my forehead. Soapy water flew all over the kitchen. It was in my hair and dripping into my shirt. I looked up, causing some of the soap to fall into my eyes (which was just delightful). Harry was trying to suppress his laughter, which he was failing at horribly. There was some soap in his hair and on his chest as well, but I was soaked.

  "Here, let me help you," he got out between laughs. I watched him with a glare as he grabbed the removable sink head and pointed it towards me. And turned it on.

  Freezing water hit me directly in the face as I tried to reach out to grab the sink head from him. I could hear his maniacal laugh as he came closer to me. I was backed up to the fridge, trying to shield my face from the steady stream of water. As I continued to move further away from Harry (now moving towards the pantry) I noticed he was stuck in one place. There was no more room for him to move. His eyes flashed panic as he saw me running towards him. I caught him off guard and pushed him into the counter. He thought I was going to turn off the water, so he tried to spray as much water as he could, but what he didn't count on was me grabbing a pot that was full of soapy water and pouring it right over his head. He dropped the sink head and was trying to spit out some of the water that had made its way into his mouth.

  He grabbed me by my sides and began to tickle me. I was twisting this way and that, trying to escape his grip. Somehow I managed to grab the dish soap and pour it all over his hair. Harry had given up, laughing and pretending to shampoo his hair. I jumped up to sit on the counter and put more dish soap on his head. We were laughing as I "shampooed" his hair, occasionally rinsing it with the sink head. I was actually having a great time. Until of course my dad walked through the kitchen door and screamed

  "What the hell is going on in here?"