Masochistic Sonder | 𝐻𝒮 | Harry Styles

Chapter Eight: They're So Pretty It Hurts

Chapter Eight: "They're So Pretty It Hurts"

A THING I HATED ABOUT PEOPLE were their lies. I still do. It's the way they lie, they sin without stuttering and it doesn't seem to bother them at all, neither what time of the day they sin, they just do.

"Do you ever feel anything," he asked me for the millionth time, relaxing against the glass doors and his wings were shut close together, at his back.

I had been crying for the past days, with my eyes pouring out, right after Bastet had left me, she was my anchor and I couldn't mentally nor barely physically tand, she helped me stay on both of my legs and now she was gone and I didn't seem to accept the fact that it wasn't for too long and she'd eventually come back.
I couldn't seem to stop the tears no matter how hard I tried, did I even really try?

"What do you want from me?" I asked looking towards him, I held the papers for the meeting in my hands, my hand started to shake, the questions were unbearable at that moment.

"Have you forgotten?" He poured another question on top of mine, furrowing his eyebrows he leaned forward towards my way.

"Yes, I often tend to forget stuff,"
"Now I need to think what this is all about," - I said, showing him the papers in both my hands -" why on earth would they want an author to check out a photoshoot. I hate this! I hate taking pictures! I hate being around a lot of people," I continued in a whisper. It's not like I was going to get any inspiration for my writing so why waste my time?

"How often?" He asked.

"Pardon, how often what?" I asked.

"How often do you tend to forget, Isis?" He asked me and I looked up to him, I had a shocked look on my face, what type of question was he asking me?

"Stop calling me Isis, you don't even know me like that and the answer is often, so often I get worried, frustrated and I end up giving up and going on with my life, happy?" I asked.
I walked over to my bed, grabbed my purse and placed the papers inside. I grabbed a purse I had previously used and placed its things inside the other purse: stuff like lipgloss—I'd never used—mascara, car keys and house keys.

"You poor thing," he said, walking over to me, I could feel his energy moving across my room but I ignored it and packed the rest of the pieces of stuff inside my purse.

He suddenly clenched onto my arms and pulled me nearer to him, positioning his hand on my cheek. I felt a type of warmth I had never felt in a long time and I instinctively smothered my face against his soft palm.
"You're still the same," he chuckled.
"I would have anticipated this behaviour from Bastet, not you but I guess you must have picked up her manners," he added.

I questioned how he knew Bastet's name.
I slightly opened my eyes and looked at him, he wasn't as close to my face as last time but I still described his features as feisty and beautiful.

"I have to change," I said, as I brought both of my hands—that had stopped shaking—to his toned chest and slightly pushed him away from me.

"Thank you for the shirt. Pretty expensive," he said. He gave me a tight lipped smile and walked over to the doors. I looked at his image through the glass and waited for him to make his way out.

Once he left I sat on my bed for a few minutes, mentally recovering from his absence. Suddenly I was suddenly out of breath, I felt like I was trapped in a box and nobody could hear me even though I wasn't saying anything and it was scary.

When I could, I quietly stood up from my bed, dressed in a tight yellowish dress and wore normal white sneakers, my locs were collected together in a high ponytail and they heavily fell on my back, Jah played with them in his hands.
They symbolise intent, natural and supernatural powers, and a state of non-violent values.

♡

"Mr Styles," I called out his name.
I felt it, the same warm breeze from Italy rushed through me mixed with the fake breeze coming from the air conditioner and they made the fake effect of strong winds look so easy, the way it spun around the room. Harry. He still looked breathlessly beautiful.

"This way," I waved.
Everyone was looking at me, instead, my eyes were on him, he was posing for the camera, his curly hair was spread everywhere across his gentle brownish face, he seemed to have heard my voice as he looked my way.

I could hear the gasps from other people, my eyes were still on him, his frequencies were high and they felt like a drug to me. It hurt. I could have drained him of all that energy if I wanted but it was different, I would have never thought of doing something like that to him.
Some stylists shifted his hair away from his face and he went back to a serious face, something I had never seen Harry make.

"Aaliyah," he said, as he realised it was my voice that called him, he got up from the stool, he sat on, with a smile on his lips.

"Styles, we're still shooting,"-one of the directors said, holding the camera in his hands, he then rolled his eyes and made a gesture towards the crew, -"twenty minutes break!"

Harry walked towards my way.
His pearl necklace dangled on his chest and his white boots echoed around all the room.
"They're so pretty, it hurts," I said as I faked a laugh, I looked around with nothing in mind. Each model was beautiful and unique in their own way.
"So what a surprise to have you here, Mr Styles, not only a teacher but also a model, I'm compelled to know more!" I exclaimed.

"Miss Nile, it's all my pleasure. Gorani, I've seen she has received the emails and the letters, in time, I'm desolated. I was meant to send them earlier!" Mr Gorani interrupted my conversation, reaching out his right hand towards me and with his left he wrapped his rights' wrist.

"Just call me Aaliyah," I replied.
I slightly bowed towards him instead of shaking his hand.

"I see you've met one of my models, he's popular around here and he just needs to man up a little but other than that he's good to go," he laughed and gave a slap to Harry's back, he stumbled towards me and his curly hair felt on his face once again, they hid his embarrassment.

"You're wrong, he's just perfect as he is, there's nothing he needs to man up in," I whispered and smiled, it was like once again I was calling him to come out of his hiding. "To add on, I think he has the prettiest hands I've ever seen," I said and Harry looked up to me.
"You're really lucky to have Mr Styles as one of your models, Gorani," I said, and crossed my arms looking towards the photographer's way.

"I agree, I take back my words!" He laughed as he grabbed onto his shirt pulling it forward and slightly bowed down. "I've called her here because her beauty is undeniable, my crew and I wanted to take some photos and I know it's an awkward situation: where a writer models but we'd be delighted to have you here, Miss Nile," he said.

I was looking forward to working alongside Styles, I wanted to know as much as possible about him.