the intimacy of little things: v
au ⌕ florist!harry x photographer!ofc
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She walks inside the Another Man building, and this time, she remembers to wipe her feet on the small, worn-out door mat by the entrance. Olive looks up, and calls for her, making her stop in her tracks just as she’s about to get in the lift.
“Good morning, Olive,” she smiles, taking a mint from the small bowl on her desk.
She grunts, then looks her up and down. “You look very professional,” she takes in her black jumpsuit and heeled boots. “Are you getting a promotion?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Talulah winks. “I’m not. I have a meeting with MJ and Paula. I thought I’d dress up for a change.”
“Hm,” Olive nods, though Talulah sees the tiny smile creeping in. “Okay– well, go, you’re holding me up.”
“Oh– yeah,” she nods, pinching her cheek before taking a step towards the lifts. “See you later, Liv!”
It was Thursday, which meant she had two shoots after her morning meeting with MJ and Paula. She smiles at a few colleagues before making a beeline into the small kitchen, hand already in her white canvas bag, trying to locate her coffee cup.
“Is this your last day of work?”
She looks up at Zayn’s voice, and it earns him an eye-roll.
“Why?” She puts the kettle on, placing her bags on the small table in front of her.
Zayn is leaning against the counters, and he looks good as usual, dressed in white trousers and a red jumper with polka dots.
“You’re dressed awfully nice.”
“Are you trying to say I don’t dress nice usually?” She asks, grabbing a spoon from the rack.
Zayn shrugs. “Not this nice. Is that a Gucci belt?” He leans forward to investigate. “Is it real? Please don’t tell me otherwise.”
“It’s real,” she swats his hands off of her, and takes the boiled water, pouring it into her cup. “I have a meeting with MJ and Paula.”
“About?”
“I don’t know,” she shrugs. “I’m still here, aren’t I?”
“Well, maybe it is your last day, if Paula is here,” he shrugs, taking his cigarettes out of his pocket. “Shall we?”
“Yes. Let’s go.”
She drops her bags off in her small office, and follows Zayn outside, both of them taking their spot by the railings, and she extends the lighter, helping him light his cigarette. They mostly smoke in silence, the only noise surrounding them coming from the London traffic; horns and tires screeching, and Zayn sighs, turning to Talulah.
“Are you happy, Talulah?” He says, taking another drag from his cigarette.
Deep conversations weren’t out of the ordinary for Zayn and Talulah. Despite people thinking of Zayn as a quiet person, he loved talking when the timing was right. He said what needed to be said.
She looks up at him, a surprised twinkle in her eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Are you happy– with Harry, with everything going on in your life?”
“I don’t know,” she purses her lips. She hadn’t thought about it in a while– what being happy meant. She says as much. “I haven’t thought about it, to be honest.”
“Mhm,” Zayn nods, taking another drag from his cigarette. He puts it out on the side of the wall, and discards it in one of the plastic cups they brought out and used as a make-shift ashtray.
“I guess so– I guess I’ve been happier recently,” she nods. “Harry helps. Therapy helps, too.”
Zayn only nods, and looks down at his shoes. “Good.”
“Are you? Happy?” She redirects the question, earning a chuckle from him.
“I think so. I’ve no reason to be unhappy.”
“Not at all?”
“Not at all.”
She is called into MJ’s office when she’s just walking inside with Zayn, and she promises to keep him updated on the meeting as she begins walking towards his office at the top floor. Her boots click on the marble floors, and she takes a deep breath before knocking on the stained glass door.
She hears MJ’s deep voice inviting her in, and she opens the door, finding Paula already sitting on one of the chairs around the meeting table MJ has in his office. She greets them both with a smile on her face, and walks further into the office, closing the door behind her.
“Take a seat,” MJ nods, clearly the one designated to talk more today as opposed to Paula who watches them both with a barely-there smile.
Paula takes a deep breath, clearly wanting to get to the point.
Talulah turns to her.
“How do you feel about an intern joining you for a couple of weeks, Talulah?” Paula asks, hands on the table.
“An intern?”
“Yes. Remember how and where you started?”
“I do, yes, of course,” she nods, turning to MJ.
MJ nods along, and waits for Paula.
“We are hiring for our new building in New York. MJ suggested someone shadow you for a few weeks before he makes the move to settle in New York. We already have someone coming, just wanted to see how you felt about someone shadowing you here,” Paula says, crossing her arms.
“Are you– sure? I mean, I’ve never had anyone shadowing me before.”
“MJ trusts you,” Paula nods. “And so do I, to be completely honest. We’re very happy with you, and he figured you would want this opportunity.”
“I mean, yeah, of course– yeah.”
“Yes?” Paula asks, turning to MJ for a second. “Are you saying yes, then?”
“Yes,” Talulah confirms, a small smile appearing.
MJ claps his hands, and reaches across the table to squeeze Talulah’s cold ones.
“Great!” He says, turning to Paula. “I’ll inform Noah, and get him a visitor’s ID, and whatnot.”
“Okay, great,” Paula nods, getting on her feet.
Talulah does the same.
“Thank you, Talulah,” Paula says, cracking a tiny smile. It’s so small Talulah barely recognises it before Paula turns around, and leaves MJ’s office.
“Any questions?” MJ asks, phone in hand.
“I mean– yeah. Who is he? How long is he shadowing me for? I’m nervous– is that normal?”
“Yeah, it’s normal. Don’t be nervous, you’re great at what you do, otherwise Paula wouldn’t agree on it, you know her,” MJ smiles.
“I do, yeah. So,” she says. “When do I get to meet him? What’s he like?”
“Tomorrow. And, he’s great– got great connections. He was working freelance before, but got great recommendations.”
She nods, and they chat for another couple of minutes before she leaves his office, and makes his way to her own floor. Lauren is already in her seat, working on something on her computer, and she walks over to her desk.
“Hey,” she greets her, and she turns around, smiling at her.
“Hey, you.”
“I just got back from MJ’s office–”
“–Are you fired?”
“No.”
“Then?”
“I’m having someone shadow me for a couple of weeks before they hire him for the New York office,” she murmurs, looking around for Zayn.
He’s just leaving the kitchen, and when he notices them both, he walks over to them.
Lauren claps her hands, despite the look she’s receiving from Talulah, and Zayn nods at her.
“Is she fired?” He says, sitting on the corner of her desk.
Talulah sighs. “Why is everyone asking the same thing?”
“We’re just fucking with you,” Lauren laughs, turning to Zayn. “She’s gonna have an intern shadow her for a couple of weeks before they move to New York.”
“Oh,” Zayn turns to Talulah. “Well done, T. That’s good news. Paula was there, wasn’t she?”
“Yep,” she nods. “She even cracked a smile. Once or twice.”
“Congratulations, T. That means they’re very happy with your performance,” Zayn says, placing a hand on Talulah’s shoulder. He squeezes, and Talulah smiles at him.
One of today’s shoots included working with Nick Robinson, and she couldn’t help but feel giddy over it. She gets ready, and brainstorms about the shoot with Zayn and his crew, and he tells her which lighting would be the best for some of the outfits he would have on. She makes a cup of coffee, and walks into the lift with Zayn and Metta. The studio is already alive, a blue backdrop already on as per Talulah’s request. ‘Mother of Pearl’ by Roxy Music is playing, the song coming through Zayn’s speakers, and she tries to get everything ready before Nick Robinson shows up with his entourage.
“You good?” Zayn asks, holding a pastel green scarf.
She nods, and turns towards the lifts when she hears commotion.
It’s Nick Robinson, dressed in wide leg trousers and a navy crochet vest. His hair is styled to perfection, and a few strands fall over to his face, creating a ‘nonchalant’ look.
“Hello,” he smiles, walking over to them.
He first greets Zayn, reaching a hand as they shake each other’s hand, and then he turns to Talulah.
“Hey,” he says, reaching and shaking her hand. “You’re Talulah.”
“I am,” she smiles, perhaps a little too big, and lets go of his soft hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“Likewise.”
Nick turns to his PA, and Zayn guides him over to where a stool is stood in the middle of the room, in front of the backdrop. He sits down, and gives them a cheesy smile.
“I’ll just do a couple of test shots,” she says, grabbing her camera off the tripod. “And then, we’ll start.”
“Cool,” Nick grins. “How do you want me?”
“Doesn’t matter, just look at me and smile a little?”
He hums, and does what he’s told. It’s an easy shoot, Nick delivers what he’s supposed to, and Talulah can’t help but ask about his films, I’m a fan, if you couldn’t tell.
“Thank you for everything,” Nick says, shaking her hand after they wrapped up.
“Thank you, you were great.”
Lunch break comes too soon, and Talulah eats her wrap in silence as her greasy fingers work the keyboard of her laptop. She answers some emails, forwards some here and there, and sends herself a couple to remind her of her tasks for the upcoming weeks. Before closing her laptop, she gets another email from HR, MJ and Paula cc’d, about Noah’s arrival on Wednesday.
“T?”
She looks up at Zayn’s voice.
He’s standing by the door, his glasses in hand.
“Yes?”
“Jules is asking if you’d like to come around for dinner,” he says, looking down at his phone. He sounds gruff, like he’d been smoking for the last couple of hours.
She laughs. “Tonight?”
“I guess.”
“I mean– do you want me to come?”
He looks up, eyebrows raised in question. He looks bored. “What?”
“I’m joking.”
“Oh.”
“Jesus– you’re so awkward sometimes,” she closes her laptop, and starts tidying up her things– stuffing everything in her tote. “I’ll come.”
“Bring Harry, too.”
“What?” Chargers. Glasses. Favourite pens. More chargers– all stuffed in the yellow tote.
Zayn groans, taking a step back. “Bring Harry. Tonight.”
A grin appears on her face.
Zayn liked Harry.
Zayn rarely showed interest in people– especially the ones who just entered their lives.
“Okay…” she grins wider, turning off the small lamp on her desk. “I’ll ask him.”
Zayn nods. He watches her cross the desk and walk over to him with her bags as they begin walking side by side to the lift.
“Jules said it’d be nice,” Zayn says once in the lift, long fingers pressing the ground floor in a practised manner.
Talulah looks up, confused. “What?”
“Jules.”
“What?”
“She said Harry should come over as well. With you.”
“Okay, Zayn.”
Talulah looks down at the grey jeans she’s got on, and reaches for another pair on her bed. When she taps on her phone screen, it immediately goes off, showing Harry’s contact name. She answers with a smile, and in a few minutes, she’s locking her door and walking towards Harry’s Mini with quick steps as she tries to protect her makeup from the rain.
She gets in the warm car with a sigh, the sound of Harry’s wiper blades filling her ears as Harry greets her with a smile, watching as she places her bag on the backseat along with the wine bottle that’s secured in a pink tote.
“Hey,” he murmurs, lips already on her cheek as he presses a small kiss there. She smiles, taking in his smell and the moustache that’s been growing on his beautiful face.
She kisses his lips, then his chin. “Hey, you,” she notices the ‘Kiss’ t-shirt and his pink beanie. “Looking cosy with the beanie,” she murmurs, making him chuckle– his hand still on the back of her neck.
He thumbs at the soft skin there. “Yeah?”
“Mhm. Though, a t-shirt? It’s freezing.”
“I’ve got a cardigan on as well– and a coat,” he shrugs.
He kisses her one last time before letting go, and puts the car in drive.
“I missed you,” he looks at her, only for a moment before his eyes are back on the road.
There’s not much traffic, surprisingly, Talulah notes, so they drive in peace for the most part.
“I missed you, too,” Talulah agrees, reaching and messing with his beanie. He lets out a huff, one hand leaving the steering-wheel to fix the hat.
A moment of silence before he talks.
“You did?” He asks while Talulah is trying to connect her phone to the radio.
She doesn’t look up from her phone, her finger scrolling through her playlists to choose a song from. “I did, what?”
“You missed me?” Harry asks, clearing his throat.
He sounds on edge, almost, so she looks up from her phone screen, finding his eyes on the road.
“What do you mean?”
He takes a bit to answer.
“You’ve been a bit– I don’t know, I guess I wanted to hear your voice more these past couple of days.”
She holds off on starting her chosen song for a bit, out of respect.
“What do you mean?”
“I wanted to call more, text more…”
She chuckles. “We’ve been texting!”
“I know!” He lets out a laugh, but it sounds forced– almost embarrassed.
“So? Harry, are you okay?”
“I am. I’ve just– I don’t know, I’m being silly. I missed you, that’s all.”
“And I’ve missed you,” she laughs, right hand reaching and thumbing at the spot on his cheek where she knows his dimple would be.
He smiles, and she feels the dimple under her touch.
“Okay,” he says, voice quiet, but the dimple doesn’t disappear.
She likes it.
She prefers it that way.
They drive in silence for another minute before she turns to him again, finger hovering on the screen of her phone.
“Pick a number between one and twenty-one,” she says.
Harry lets out a chuckle. “Six,” Harry says, and she counts quickly, finger scrolling through songs.
She stops, and they both let out a laugh when Fleetwood Mac comes on.
“How predictable,” Harry says, eyes glinting despite the darkness of the car’s interior.
She hums.
How predictable, indeed.
‘Maybe now he could prove to her/ That he could be good for her/ And they should be together’
They arrive at Zayn and Jules’, and park the car in front of Zayn’s Range Rover. They joke about the size of Harry’s car compared to Zayn’s, and how his Mini fits into the space with ease before Talulah gathers her bags, and she watches Harry lock the car before turning to her with a wine bottle of his own in his hand.
He reaches for her free hand, and she smiles at the warmth of his palm against her own. They laugh about the wine they both had brought, same brand, and Talulah asks about Bo again. She knocks on the blue door, and watches for a moment as Harry takes in his surroundings.
Jules opens the door, wearing a bright-yellow jumper that is in contrast with the gloomy weather outside. Her smile is so big, Talulah can see the joy in her brown eyes as she ushers them inside, saving them from droplets of rain outside.
When they're inside the warm flat, Zayn appears out of nowhere, dressed in a pair of loose-fit jeans and a purple hoodie, and hugs them both. Jules accepts their gifts with a beaming smile– you didn't have to, and they take their seats at the table. Both Harry and Talulah compliment Jules–and Zayn–on the food, Zayn cracking a big smile when Jules looks down with a small smile as soon as Harry asks whether Zayn is a good cook or not.
“I’m so happy you guys could make it,” Jules says, cutting into her food.
Harry looks at Talulah for a moment, his smile widening, and turns to Jules. “Thanks for the invitation. You’re a good cook, everything’s delicious.”
“Thanks, Harry,” Jules smiles. “So,” her gaze wavers between Talulah and Harry. “How did you two meet?”
“Oh,” Harry turns to Talulah, like he’s waiting for her to give him the floor, or better yet, answer it herself.
Talulah doesn’t, though. She looks down, though a smile appears on her face as the silence fills the room, six pairs of eyes watching her.
Harry coughs into his fist. “We met at a Christmas dinner,” he answers, though it feels as though he’s wanting to say something else.
He doesn’t, though.
Instead, Talulah looks up, and places her hand on his chin, thumbing at the soft, warm skin there before turning to the curious pairs of eyes.
“Arielle hosted a Christmas dinner, we were both there,” she says, placing her elbows on the table. “I was mean to him.”
“You weren’t,” Harry laughs.
They all do.
“I was.”
“Nah,” Harry shakes his head, and turns to Jules with a smile on his face. “I saw her and wanted to introduce myself. She looked beautiful,” he says, and Talulah doesn’t have to look at him to know his cheeks are warm, and slightly flushed.
She still does, though.
She looks at his dimple, then into his eyes. Harry smiles.
“See,” Talulah turns to Jules. “He thought I was beautiful, and I was a total bitch to him.”
She turns her attention to Zayn, noticing how quiet he’d been all night. He’s got a sombre look on his face– a look she can’t quite work out. She raises her eyebrows at him, a silent conversation happening between the pair, and Talulah turns to Jules again, ignoring Zayn.
Harry interrupts her thoughts.
“Got us here in the end, didn’t it?” He says, biting his bottom lip.
They keep eating, and talking about nothing and everything all at once. At one point, Harry and Zayn start arguing over football, and Zayn groans one too many times when Harry brings up the league table.
Talulah falls quiet.
She thinks back to the first night they’d met– the first time Talulah had seen Harry.
She wonders if she’d dreamt the whole thing, their first interaction.
In truth, she wasn’t the one being mean– Harry had started it.
How could he not remember her? Still, to this day, how could Harry not remember the first time he’d seen Talulah? Had she changed that much in one night? Was it her makeup– her hair? Or, was it her clothes?
It was silly.
It was weird.
She didn’t know why it mattered so much, Harry being rude to her at the shop. It was insignificant. It was pointless to dwell on such a thing when he had redeemed himself already.
Harry was kind.
He was beautiful– in every sense of the word. His heart was big, and so warm, and Talulah wanted to hold it in her hands, despite the coldness of her palms– despite the imaginary callouses decorating her palms. She thought his big heart wasn’t fit for her dirty hands. It was as if her palms were too muddy, too bleak and unworthy for his big heart.
She looks up at his touch on the back of her neck.
“You with us?” Harry asks, grinning.
“Did you tell Harry about your new intern?” Zayn interrupts their moment, and she feels cold all of a sudden, despite Harry’s warm hand on her neck.
She feels his curious gaze on her, and she shakes her head. “I forgot to.”
“You have an intern?” Harry asks.
“Apparently…”
The night carries on, Harry insists on helping Jules with tidying up and putting everything in the dishwasher so she lets Harry and Zayn load the dishwasher while she puts the kettle on, Talulah watching quietly from a distance. She watches Harry joke with Zayn, Zayn’s usually quiet attitude disappearing under Harry’s jolly personality. Although it’s only been a couple of months of knowing Harry, Talulah can tell he’s quieter than usual. He zones out quite often when Zayn doesn’t talk, and he almost breaks a plate and drops cutlery more than once.
They sit and talk in Zayn and Jules’ spacious living room, and Talulah presses her body closer to Harry’s warmth when a new song comes on through the speakers. She can’t quite recall ever hearing the tune, or the melody, so she listens intently. Harry turns his attention to her, her head on his shoulder– hair touching the warm skin of his neck. He smiles down at her, though his eyes tell a different story.
She doesn’t question it there.
She lets him lay his head on hers, and she smiles, a small one, and hums when Jules gushes about the new greengrocers near Hamilton Road.
They leave Zayn and Jules’ flat around eleven, and Harry doesn’t reach for her hand when they’re walking towards his car like he did when they first arrived.
She hugs her aching body, trying to shelter the last bits of warmth inside her body and winter coat while Harry walks ahead, long limbs trying to beat the freezing weather.
“Are you angry at me?”
“What?”
She looks up from her seatbelt, and looks into his eyes, finding him already watching her tired fingers work the seatbelt.
Harry waits for her answer.
It doesn’t come for a while, until Harry’s turning the ignition and they’re on the road again.
Her hand reaches for the cable that connects their phone to the radio, though his cold hand stops her mid-reach.
She turns to him.
He’s focused on the road.
“Don’t,” he says, voice low, almost a murmur.
He does sound angry.
She feels her heart start beating even faster now, brain trying to come up with all the reasons he might feel so hostile and worked up.
She thinks it might be because she didn’t like the wine they brought, or perhaps it was when she rolled her eyes at his joke about one of her outfits she wore last week.
Could’ve been the time when he pressed a kiss to her chin, and she bit her lip while trying to distance herself from his touch because she felt Jules looking at them.
She comes empty-handed.
“Talulah?” Harry questions the overbearing silence in the tiny car.
She turns to him, catching a glimpse of his distant gaze before his eyes find their focus on the road.
“What?”
“I don’t want you to play a song to fill the awkwardness,” Harry grumbles.
If she were brave, she would’ve gasped at the heavy implications of his words.
“So it’s awkward now?” A bitter laugh leaves her mouth. She shakes her head. “What– who made it awkward– why? How is it my fault that you made it awkward, Harry? I mean–” she takes a deep breath, palms sweating.
“I didn’t say you made it awkward.”
“You implied it.”
Harry lets out a groan. “I didn’t. I’m just saying–”
She grows frustrated. She pinches the bridge of her nose. “Just fucking spit it out. You’re giving me the cold shoulder– you have been giving me the cold shoulder all night. I have no idea why you’re so– so angry about!”
“All night?” His voice is gruff, but still loud.
“Just tell me for God’s sake, Harry.”
“Do you even like me, Talulah?”
Talulah stiffens, levelling Harry with a hard, stone-cold gaze. “What?”
A bitter laugh escapes his mouth. “Do you? Do you like me as much as I like you?”
Talulah feels small.
She feels guilty, yet so angry.
How dare he?
How dare he question her feelings towards him when she should be the one doing so.
She should be the one questioning his feelings, his stance on this relationship, considering their first interaction.
Maybe, she found herself thinking from time to time, maybe Harry was just pretending.
Maybe he’s been pretending the whole time; pretending to have forgotten how awful he was to her when they first met, and the fact that he acted like he didn’t remember anything at Ariel’s party. Maybe Harry was a player. Maybe he was just an awful person– a scam.
So, yes, Talulah feels small. She feels six-years-old again, being questioned about her feelings, about how real they are. ‘Are you sure you’re hungry?’, ‘Did you really think it would work?’, ‘You’re only six, Lullah, don’t get involved in our business’, ‘You’re overreacting, you’re acting silly’.
“Are you even listening?” Harry asks, incredulously.
Talulah gulps, the lump in her throat expanding. “I am.”
“And you’re choosing not to answer,” he makes a sharp left, and she looks out the window, feeling alarmed for a moment before she chastises herself for feeling so, knowing Harry wouldn’t do anything to harm her.
“I just think it’s a stupid question.”
Harry stops at a red light, and the window rolls down, only a little bit. The breeze seeps inside the car, filling the small vehicle with the smell of smoke and exhaust. Talulah feels sick to her stomach, sick at the silence filling not only Harry’s car, but also Talulah’s heart.
Harry doesn't waver, he sends her a small smile. It’s filled with so much: so much love, but also sadness. It’s dull, but also so bright. She shakes like a leaf inside, though doesn’t show it on the outside.
“It’s not stupid,” Harry argues back. “Do you? Do you like me? Because I–” He puts the car in drive. “–I feel like I like you more than you like me–”
“–So you’ve said.”
“You don’t talk to me, Talulah!” Harry hits the steering wheel, though it’s only a gentle tap in her eyes.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” She grows frustrated, anger showing in her wavering, shaky tone of voice. “I do talk to you. You know more about me than most people. You know about my mum, about– Harry, what happened?”
“Talulah, this past week you’ve been distant. I always feel like I’m bothering you when I text or call,” Harry tries to reason.
Talulah feels angry.
“Now, you’re being unreasonable.”
“How?”
“I’m not distant! We talk– we text. We’re fine. What’s this about– what’s the real reason?”
She doesn’t realise they made it to her flat until the car stops, and Harry puts the car in park. She knows someone will see his car in their parking space and walk downstairs to tell them off for it.
She doesn’t care.
She doesn’t think Harry does, either.
Harry exhales, and unbuckles his seatbelt, then clears his throat.
“You have an intern now?”
Talulah looks at him with raised eyebrows, a wicked smile painting her features.
“You’re fucking with me– is that why you’re angry?”
“No– yes. Not because you have someone shadowing you. Because it feels like you tell me nothing lately.”
“That’s such a stupid reason to be mad at me, though.”
“Zayn knows more about you. Even Jules does. I didn’t know you cut your finger until I asked why you were going out to buy plasters for,” Harry starts listing things, as if he’s been waiting for this moment his whole life. She’s bewildered, to say the least. Harry goes on. “I didn’t know your throat hurt until I asked about your voice– or– or when I wanted to see you and you told me you’d been assigned a new photoshoot for– for fucking Phoebe Bridgers. I mean– that’s fucking huge, isn’t it?”
“I’m lost.”
“I want to know you.”
“You know me.”
Harry carries on, shaking his head in disapproval. He doesn’t look convinced, nor pleased. “I just feel like– I feel like you’re holding back.”
“I’m not.”
“Well, okay.”
She tries to get closer to his face.
He turns his head.
“Harry.”
“Yes?”
“What are you saying?”
“I want to know why you’re holding back– what’s changed? It was different when we first met, when we first started seeing each other,” Harry looks down, his jeans seemingly more interesting now.
“Harry, that’s not true– nothing’s changed. I’ve just been busy,” she tries to reason, but to no avail; Harry’s stance is clear.
He looks distant– which is ironic, seeing how he argues the opposite.
“I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Harry,” Talulah laughs– a pathetic sound, she thinks, her laugh is.
It’s alien inside the quiet car, the sound of the wind and rain filling her insides.
Harry smiles, like he’s trying to let her down easy. “I’ll call you tomorrow, because I think we’re both not making any sense now. I don’t think I explained myself clearly, and I’m just being really unreasonable and silly right now.”
Talulah lets out a breath. “You’re not being silly. I just– I’m confused.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel confused– I myself am confused. I think I’m just…”
“You’re just, what?”
“I like you, T.”
She bites her bottom lip. “I like you, too. You know that, right? I do– I really fucking like you, Harry.”
“I know, I know you do.”
“So?”
“I will call you tomorrow, I promise.”
She clears her throat, and unbuckles her belt. Grabbing her back, she doesn’t even look back as she closes the door behind her.
She opens her door, and she spends a few minutes getting rid of the layers of clothes she’s got on. When she dares looking out her window, she sees his car still parked where she left him a few minutes ago. The lampposts cast a shadow into his car, an orange hue, and she sees the light of his phone illuminating the dark interior of his car. She smiles, waiting for his text.
Harry locks her phone– she knows, because it’s dark in the car again.
Her phone doesn’t make a sound.
Harry drives off.
