Harry is the doorman for a very luxurious apartment building that is home to a lot of wealth. There's a new resident moving into her uncle's apartment: 12A. Harry doesn't want to like her. But he might not have a choice.
The doorman at her new apartment building is really cute and a little rough around the edges. He always tells her to have a nice day even though she doesn't always have good days. Even though he doesn't look like he's having a good day. She likes him anyway.
CW: None minus Harry is a bit grumpy in the beginning
Word Count: 3.3K
Trope: Kinda sorta love at first sight if you have bad vision
A/N: I got inspired by the hotel aspect of the Aperture music video so here we are and here you go! I thought this would be a cute little submission for @jarofstyles fic challenge! I hope y'all enjoy ✨
Summary: Harry just wants more pillows and you try your best to get them to him in a timely manner✨
Harry likes to think he’s a reasonable person, he doesn’t get upset when they get his order wrong at his local cafe, he doesn’t even flinch when someone bumps into him on the sidewalks in whatever city he’s visiting, not to mention he only ever really finds himself raising his voice to shout over the music in a club with his friends, but even relatively level headed individuals like Harry do have their limits and his is teetering on the edge of being reached. He lets out a loud sigh as he sits on the edge of his freshly made hotel bed, his hands are folded in his lap while his eyes are glued on the small clock on the nightstand.
As he watches the numbers change he chews on his bottom lip, he starts messing with the ring on his index finger while his mind swirls with possible reasons as to why a simple task such as bringing him two extra pillows is taking so long. When he called down to the front desk he spoke to a lovely woman who assured him it would only be a few minutes until someone from housekeeping would be knocking on his door to deliver his extra plushy pillows, but that was almost an hour ago so with every minute that goes by it’s as if Harry can feel his patience wearing thinner and thinner.
Normally he wouldn’t be this bothered by a few measly pillows but the events of the day have turned his mood a bit sour and when this happens all Harry finds himself wanting to do after a long hot shower is lay in a nice bed and cuddle a pillow close to his chest, having always found the feeling of something soft being tightly tucked up against him oddly comforting but he can’t exactly do that with the bed how it is currently since it only has one pillow. He doesn’t even know how he ended up with only one, having stayed in countless hotels in numerous cities he knows the normal amount is usually two and if he had that many he wouldn’t have had to call down the the front desk and ask for extras and he surely wouldn’t be sitting on the edge of his bed like a little kid who just got scolded for something and sent to their room while waiting for someone to drop them off.
“This is ridiculous.” He huffs as he stands up and turns to look towards the door of his hotel room. “You’re a grown man Harry just go down there and ask for more pillows.” He grumbles to himself as he walks over to the dresser directly across from the bed that the tv is sitting on so he can grab his wallet that has his room key in it. After slipping his wallet into the back pocket of his dark grey slacks he adjusts the jumper he has pulled over a button up dress shirt as he walks over to his door. He takes a few deep calming breaths as his hand wraps around the cold metal of the door knob, not wanting to be in too foul of a mood and end up being rude to whoever he’s about to speak with at the front desk. But just as he’s about to turn the knob and pull the heavy door open he hears a voice coming from the hallway.
“Hi sorry to bother you-did you call down for more pillows?-no? Okay have a good night! So sorry again.” Harry quirks a brow as he leans in closer to the door, the voice is soft and a little too cheery for the time of night as it drifts down the hall and under his door. He hears a muffled noise just before the sound of a door closing, he leans in even closer so his ear is practically pressed against the door letting him hear the sound of footsteps.
“Shit.” He hisses as the sound of two heavy knocks on his door rings in his ears making him fumble backwards as he shakes off the slight buzzing in his ears while trying to regain his balance.
“Housekeeping.” The voice is still soft and cheerful but just amplified so he can hear it through the door, two more knocks have him scrambling for the knob and pilling the door open. “House-oh hello I’m sorry to bother you but did you happen to call down to the front desk and ask for extra pillows?” Harry just stares at you as he stands in the doorway only a bit disheveled with his hair looking as if he’s run his hands through it a few too many times and the collar of his dress shirt that’s poking out of the top of his sweater appears to be a little crooked.
You give him a smile as you lower the two pillows in your arms down just enough so he can get a better view of your face. Harry swallows thickly as his eyes roam over your features, taking in your pretty eyes and warm smile that have him completely forgetting the reason you’ve even knocked on his door. Something about you has managed to catch him completely off guard so he doesn’t even notice it’s been well past the socially acceptable amount of time between you asking him a question and him answering it making you just tilt your head just a smidge and raise an eyebrow at him.
“Are you okay?” Your question has Harry realizing he’s been staring at you for far too long making him clear his throat and run a hand through his hair causing it to become even more unruly looking.
“Uh I-” you give him a reassuring smile as you stare at him, patiently waiting for him to answer your question. For the life of him Harry can't understand why suddenly his mind isn't function properly, not letting him form complete and well articulated sentences resulting in choppy slightly incoherent messes all because you're looking at him. “Yes I’m-I’m fine…those are n-nice.” He stutters as he motions towards the pillow in your arms while his eyes not so subtly drift down towards your chest making you let out a laugh because this isn’t the first time a guest has appreciated the perfectly tailored fit of your housekeeping uniform. “I mean the pill-pillows those look nice I did uhm…need them I only have…one.” He explains as he feels his face get hot, you just nod and once again find yourself waiting on him to say something or at the very least reach out and take the pillows from you.
“I’m Harry.” He blurts out after a few moments of awkward silence, you look down at his hand that he stretches out and can’t help the laugh that bubbles up from deep in your chest and out of your mouth. At the sound of you laughter Harry understands his mistake and quickly drops his hand down to his side, but he can't deny the fact he quite likes the sound of your laughter even if it is directed towards him for doing something embarrassing.
“Lovely to meet you Harry.” You tell him with a comforting smile that lets him know you don't mind the little missteps that have taken place during this brief interaction, his eyes dart over to your name tag and for some reason Harry can't help himself from opening his mouth and saying something that to you seems like something he would say to anyone to seem polite but the reality is it's very unlike him.
"I love your name- s'very pretty." Your smile grows bigger making Harry instantly add to his already uncharacteristic compliment. "It's very fitting that such a pretty girl- I mean uhm woman would have such a pretty name." His eyes stare into yours while you register the words that just tumbled out of his mouth, your cheeks get warm and you have to look away from him before you get too caught up in the greens of his eyes and forget you're still technically on the clock and are here to do your job.
"Thank you that's very kind of you." Harry smiles, pleased with himself that he's managed to get at least one complete sentence out without sounding too ridiculous. "Now did you say something about your bed only having one pillow?" Your voice is laced with a sort of concern that reminds him of when a loved one calls just to check on him and make sure he's okay and well taken care of and this has Harry's heart practically melting at the idea of you being that concerned about his lack of pillows.
"Oh yes I uh well- come in and you can see for yourself." Your eyes go a bit wide as Harry turns around and heads into his room, leaving you no choice but to go against your better judgment and follow him. "I'm not lying or anything I really only have one and that's the whole reason I had to call down for more." Your eyes do a quick once over of your surroundings once you hear the door click shut and you follow him deeper into the small space, your shoulder start to relax and your heart rate begins to go back to normal when all you see if a small duffel bag on the table near the window and his jacket draped over one of the two small chairs that accompany it.
As he stands off to the side of the bed you can't help but let your eyes do a quick inventory of the odd but charming man that occupies room 605. You appreciate the slight view you have of his profile while you stand at the foot of his queen sized bed that does in fact only have one pillow on it, his jawline is impeccable and you like how the darkness of his hair accentuates the green of his eyes and you get a sense by the broadness of his shoulders and the sheer size of him that he has the ability to come off as intimidating or a bit harsh, but as he stands there it's as if he can feel your eyes on him and you catch the way the corners of his mouth twitch as if he's fighting back a smile and that small action has all the hard edges of him softening. Then you take a few moments to really look at his outfit, the softness of his sweater vest gives him a more approachable yet still professional vibe while the fun lip pattered dress shit underneath it tells you he likes to have fun, at least with how he dresses and that makes you smile as you come to the conclusion that there might be more to Harry than what meets the eye. You don't try to hide the fact you just let your eyes roam over his tall frame for a solid two minutes, not seeing any harm in it especially since he did the same to you but with a more hungry look in his eyes, while yours hold a soft sort of curiosity to them.
"I really don't know how this happened." You tell him truly stumped at how anyone on the housekeeping staff would check off on this room being ready for the next guest with only one pillow at the top of the bed. "But don't worry I will go and get you one more so you can have an even four- something about an odd number of pillows just doesn't sit well with me." Harry lets out a small chuckle as you place the two pillows down at the end of his bed.
"Three is fine really I don't-"
"It's not fine. You only had one instead of two and you called to ask for two more meaning you're supposed to have four so just let me go grab one more and I'll be right back now that I know what room you're in." This has Harry rising a brow at you as you grab one of the pillows and walk around to the opposite side of the bed that he's standing at so you can place it next to the sad lonely pillow he already has.
"What do you mean now that you know what room I'm in? I told them my room number when I called." He explains as he walks over and grabs the other pillow so he can place it in the middle of the bed making you give him a small appreciative smile before reaching over and grabbing it so you can place it neatly on top of the one closest to you.
"Oh yeah you spoke to Jane she's new and- she's lovely and wonderful but forgets things so all she could tell me was that someone needed two extra pillows and that they were on either the fifth or sixth floor." Harry feels his face twist up into one of confusion and disbelief because if you didn't even know what floor he was on that means you had to knock on everyone's door before finding his. "That's why it took so long- I normally respond to these types of requests in a very timely manner but there's about twenty rooms on the fifth floor and then I knocked on another ten on this floor before I finally got to yours." Your voice is far too sweet with an almost joking undertone to it for Harry's liking, not finding it very funny that you had to carry around his pillows for an hour just because someone else isn't very good at their job.
"That's- that's unacceptable." You look across the bed at him as his words hit your ears and when your eyes find his you can see the sharp edges of his personality starting to poke through the softness of him that you just saw a few moments ago. "You shouldn't have to knock on twenty plus rooms to find the one you're looking for you should know exactly where you're going- Jane should write things down if her memory is so horrible." You don't miss the slight protective edge his voice takes on as he places a hand on his hip, his eyes soften just enough for you to know he isn't upset at you or even Jane really its just the situation in general he's not thrilled with. "I- I was on my way down to the front desk when you uh knocked on the door." He admits shyly as if he doesn't want you to think he's the type of person to go and complain about things like this because he honestly isn't.
"Really? You waited an hour before deciding to go down there and asking what's taking so long?" Your shocked expression has Harry's worries of you thinking he's some sort of hot headed impatient person fading away. "I would've been calling again after half an hour- you're way more patient than me." You tell him with a laugh and a shake of your head that makes him smile after letting out a quiet sigh of relief. "Now just sit tight and I'll be right back with another pillow okay?" Harry just nods at you before you turn and start walking towards the door.
"O-okay I'll be here waiting for you-or not uhm for you but for you to return with…with the pillow." He mentally scolds himself for sounding so stupid as he follows you to the door, you just let out a laugh as you turn to face him.
"I'll let you in on a little secret okay?" You quirk a brow at Harry who just nods in response making you smile as you raise a hand up and place it on his arm making him wish he wasn't wearing a long sleeve so he could feel the softness of your hand on his bare skin. "I don't mind if it's me you're waiting for and not the pillow." Harry feels his heart start to pound in his chest as his eyes glance down at your hand as it gives his arm a little squeeze.
"I'll be right back." That's the last thing you say before releasing your grip on his arm and turning around so you can pull open his door, he quickly moves to grab it so he can hold it open for you allowing him to see the smile on you have on your face as you walk out of his room. He pokes his head out and watches you walk down the hallway towards the elevators, a sense of almost sadness and longing building up in his chest with each step you take. You turn your head and give him a wave and a grin before disappearing around the corner making him let out a sigh as he steps back into his room and closes the door.
"I think I just fell in love." Harry whispers to himself with a small chuckle as he leans his back against the door. "Thank goodness for missing pillows." He mumbles as he runs a hand over his face that he can't seem to keep a grin off of as he starts to replay the infectious and bubbly sound of your laugh over and over again in his mind.
"Holy shit." You all but squeal as you place a hand over your chest while standing in front of the elevators waiting for the doors to open. "Did I just- there's no way that just happened." You say with a laugh as the elevator dings before the doors slide open, you have a silly little grin on your face as you press the star button that will take you back down to the lobby. When you walk out of the elevator Jane gives you a questioning look as you walk past her station at the front desk towards the back staircase that will lead you to the closet in the housekeeping area where all the extra pillows and blankets are kept.
"You okay? You look a little…out of it." Jane asks making you just shrug as you continue on your way towards the stairs, only pausing at the end of the desk in front of the small candy bowl full of mints so you can grab a few and shove them in the front pocket of your housekeeping dress.
"I think I'm in love with the guy in room 605." You tell her with a dreamy sigh, this has her eyes widening but it's not over what you just casually admitted it's because your words spark something in her mind that she had forgotten up until now.
"Oh he needs extra pillows!" You pause and look at her over your shoulder making her give you a minor look of panic. "He called like- I don't even know how long ago do you mind bringing him some?" You rub your lips together to hold off a laugh at the fact she doesn't even seem to remember sending you on the errand an hour ago, just giving her a nod in response. "Thank you! You're a life saver!"
"No problem- it'll be my pleasure."
"After that feel free to clock out- Stacy is here for the night shift." You just smile and give her a thumbs up before continue on your way to go grab Harry's pillow, a tiny bubble of excitement growing in your tummy with each step that brings you closer and closer to getting to see the man in room 605 with the bright emerald eyes and a smile that makes your heart flutter.
In which y/n is pretty sure her neighbor hates her, and Harry needs someone to take care of his bunny.
+++
For y/n, the month of December was truly the best part of the year.
She absolutely loved getting into the holiday spirit: whether that meant hanging multi-colored fairy lights around her bed frame, baking snowman shaped cookies for her friends and family, or busting out her reindeer printed fuzzy socks – she loved it all.
And, more importantly, she loved getting three weeks off from school. Winter break meant the end of finals week, which meant no more flashcards waiting to be memorized or textbooks waiting to be annotated. Just pure holiday bliss and seasonal joy.
The only part of the holiday season that y/n wasn’t particularly fond of was New Years.
While many considered the new year to be a “new beginning,” y/n only really thought of it as the official end to her holiday joy. She never really indulged in the thought of new year’s resolutions – in fact, she found them to be quite silly. Why on Earth would someone create a half-hearted promise to themselves, knowing very well that they would give up on their goal one month into the new year? It seemed like a far too disappointing cycle for her.
But this year… this year was different.
The ending of this year also meant that the lease on her current apartment was ending. Now, don’t get her wrong! Y/n doesn’t hate her roommates or anything. She’s actually incredibly close with the three girls that she’d spent the last two years living with, and considers them to be some of her closest friends.
But, as the months went by, y/n realized that a two bedroom, one bathroom flat was far too small for four girls to peacefully coexist in. They were always nagging each other to clean the dishes, fighting over who gets to shower first in their tiny bathroom. And honestly… she was getting really tired of listening to Nia (a business major) rehearse presentations at 3 AM.
So, when y/n timidly mentioned that she was thinking about moving out, the three other girls agreed that their living situation wasn’t the most ideal, promised that they would still remain besties even if they didn’t live with each other, and began to search for their own places so that they could turn in their keys at the end of the year.
For the first time in her life, y/n had a place of her own. And that was honestly the best thing the new year could’ve brought for her.
+++
It’s safe to say that the first morning y/n wakes up in her new apartment is undoubtedly one the most euphoric moments she’s ever experienced.
The window facing her bed allows for the morning sun to light up her room, slowly rousing her from her slumber. She blinks her eyes open, and it takes a moment for her to fully recognize that: no, she’s not dreaming and yes, she’s actually in her new apartment!
She sits up and stretches, flexing her muscles and twisting her back until she hears the delicious sound of her spine cracking – a sign that she’d slept through the night like a baby. Glancing out the window, she notices a little bluebird perched on her balcony’s railing.
Yes, a balcony!
It had actually been one of the main reasons she chose this apartment building. Although it was a rather small balcony, she immediately fell in love with it. The railings were twisted and had a rustic look that reminded her of the balcony Juliet would stand on in a Shakespearian play, and it overlooked a beautiful cobblestone street. When she first saw the balcony during the apartment tour, she immediately envisioned herself spending her mornings out here with a nice cup of tea, maybe doing her assigned readings out in the fresh air. There was just enough room for y/n to make a cozy little nook for herself, with fairy lights strung around railings and fluffy pillows piled on loveseats for her to chill out on.
She scrambles out of her bed and rushes over to the window, smudging the glass with her fingertips as her palms press flat against it. The glass is ice cold to the touch and fogs up around her nose, a sign of how cold the morning air outside must be. Dressed in a pair of flowery sleep shorts and a sweatshirt with her university’s logo embroidered on the front, she’s hardly dressed appropriately – but she slides the glass door open anyway and steps out onto the balcony. She can’t help it, she’s just so excited!
As soon as she slides the door open, the chilly air invades her senses, her lungs burning and legs prickling with goosebumps. She leans her forearms on the railing and looks at the street below, empty of any cars or people. Directly across the street from her building, she sees a small antique store, and right next to that, a cute little cafe with cartoonish snowflakes painted onto the glass windows. Dozens of other restaurants and boutiques line the street, not yet open but anticipating the rush of people that would most likely flood in within the next few hours. y/n makes a mental note to herself to text her ex-roommates and invite them to visit the coffee shop she currently had her eye on.
Yeah, maybe it was a little cold, and maybe there’s nowhere to sit, but honestly, all y/n could think about was how much she loved her brand new balcony in her brand new apartment.
Life couldn’t get any better than this.
+++
Harry isn't too big on New Year’s resolutions.
You see, he’s not fond of forcing himself to do things (the more pressure he has on himself to finish something, the less he wants to do it), and he really doesn’t like dealing with the inevitable end of year disappointment that comes with not finishing what he starts. He knows the chances of him actually going through with his resolutions are quite slim, so he doesn’t find a point in establishing any.
Therefore, he really only has one goal for the upcoming year. Don’t let Thumper die.
Thumper is the love of Harry’s life. When Harry realized just how lonely living alone could get, he decided he needed a companion to love and care for. He had the fullest intentions of going to his local adoption center and befriending a little kitty like Evie (his cat back home) so that the two cats could get along when he visited his family. But, when he stepped into the adoption center and saw Thumper, tiny and frail compared to most bunnies his age, he knew he had found his new best friend.
So really, Harry’s only “resolution” is something he knows he wouldn’t be giving up on any time soon.
As he brews himself a steaming vanilla latte (with a shot of caramel cream on top), he gives Thumper a little bit of food, petting at the bunny’s furry cheeks as he nibbles some hay from his fingers. When he turns away momentarily to pour his brewed coffee into a mug, the rabbit proceeds to thump its clunky hind feet (hence the name), begging to be the center of Harry’s attention once again.
Obviously, Harry could never ignore his bunny’s pleas for love – so he quickly picks up his mug in one hand, and, similar to the way a mother holds their newborn baby, coddles Thumper to his chest with the other. Thumper tends to get uneasy when he’s high up from the ground, usually thumping against Harry’s forearms to display his displeasure, so Harry always makes sure he’s sitting or lying down when cuddling with his bunny. Taking a seat on his pink sofa, he turns the TV on to a random news channel and gently runs his hand up and down Thumper’s back, cooing every time the fluffy bunny twitches his tiny nose with approval.
Once Thumper is happily settled and Harry’s finished with his coffee, he places Thumper back into his comfy den and puts his dirty mug in the sink. Grabbing the watering can from right underneath, he fills the can until he has a suitable amount of water for the flowers he grows on his balcony.
Whistling along to a happy tune (“Whistle While You Work” from Snow White), he steps onto the balcony and takes a deep lung-full of the pristine air. The sky was serene, the morning dew was fresh on the railing, and everything was at peace.
That is, until an unrecognizable voice far too energetic for the tranquil calm of the morning startles him.
“Hi!”
Harry drops the watering can out of surprise and whirls around, yelping out a “bloody hell!” before his eyes land on a stranger.
“Who are you?” he grumbles, putting a hand on his chest to calm his pounding heart, thumping hard from the scare.
The girl’s eyes widen, clearly not having expected to get such a reaction from her neighbor, and she carefully introduces herself, much quieter than the initial greeting she’d just given him. “Umm, I’m y/n. I just moved in.” She flashes him an apologetic smile, “Sorry for scaring you, wasn’t my intention.”
Harry looks down to assess the damage his startle caused. His watering can is on its side, laying in a puddle and steadily leaking out water, while his sock-covered feet are soaked through (one his biggest pet peeves are wet socks).
Looking back up to the girl, he sees her nervously chewing on her lip and fiddling with the hem of her sweatshirt. She seems more scared of him than he had been of her, and very timidly makes eye contact with him, praying that he wouldn’t explode on her.
Harry saves his breath.
“That’s alright,” he responds as nicely as he can muster up (wet socks = grumpy Harry), picking up the watering can from the floor. He runs into his apartment, slipping on a new, dry pair of socks, refilling the watering can, and grabbing a towel to clean up his balcony.
Y/n still has her brows furrowed in distress when he comes back outside, quickly confessing, “I really am sorry… I didn’t mean to make you jump. I was just excited to meet my new neighbor, I guess.”
He doesn’t make eye contact with her when he says, “Don’t worry about it. Everything’s okay. No need to fret,” focusing his attention, instead, on making sure the floors are dry.
“I just moved in yesterday you know! I dunno if you saw all the boxes n’ stuff, but that was me!” Christ, was she still there? He thought she would’ve gone back inside after he gave so little attention to her.
Again, he barely looks in her direction when he responds, “I hadn’t noticed anyone was moving in.” His answer is short, clipped, and uninterested.
The girl carries on the conversation, “Yeah, I’m super excited about moving in and everything! It’s my first time living without anyone and it’s just so nice to have all this space to myself– y’know I made some cookies last night, and I was gonna bring ‘em over later today to introduce myself but since we already met I could totally bring them over–”
Harry cuts her off right there. “Don’t put yourself through the trouble,” he says tersely, sparing her one final glance before walking back into his apartment.
He holds eye contact with her as he slides the balcony door shut.
+++
Y/n’s positive she’s made her neighbor hate her.
She’s drinking coffee with her ex-roommates, Sameera, Savanna, and Nia, at the coffee shop she saw earlier that morning from her balcony window, explaining her conundrum.
“I just don’t know what to do! I didn’t do anything to make him hate me. I mean, except for balcony thing, but obviously I didn’t mean to scare him! He wouldn’t even look at me!”
She tried to make things up to him, greeting him calmly on the balcony the next time they were out there at the same time, but only managed to get the grimest acknowledgement from him. He avoided eye contact with her whenever they passed each other in the hallways, would shut his door if he ever saw her coming out at the same time as him, and would stay silent if they ever got caught in the elevator together.
He hates her, she’s sure of it.
At this point, she’s honestly just given up, opting to just sit with her mug and book silently when he watered his plants on the balcony each morning. Far better than the hurt she’d feel when he’d inevitably ignore her if she tried to make small talk again.
“Maybe he’s got a fragile sense of masculinity and is embarrassed that he got scared by a girl,” Nia says, taking a bite of her croissant, “so now he can’t face you anymore.”
Sameera adds on to that, “Or he’s intimidated by you. Is he ugly? Ugly guys tend to be intimidated by pretty girls.”
Y/n is quick to deny this with a furrow in her brows. “Oh, but he’s not! He was really cute,” she pouts. Considering his reluctance to make eye contact with her during their short conversation, y/n had plenty of time to unabashedly admire her next door neighbor. He had chocolate brown hair, swept atop his head in messy waves and bright green eyes that glimmered in the dreary, gray morning weather. And though he had an intimidating demeanor, with his short attitude and furrowed brows, the fact that he was wrapped up in a fuzzy, lavender sweatshirt made him ever so endearing to her.
Call her crazy, but she has a bit of a crush.
“What’s his name?” asks Savanna, chiming into the conversation for the first time.
Y/n has to think for a moment before she responds. “I don’t think he even told me! I just said hey and he walked away from me!” She sits back and crosses her arms, huffing sadly, “Maybe this is a sign from the universe that I should just stay away from boys in general.”
“Don’t say that!” Savanna defends, “You’re beautiful and a total sweetheart. Nia’s right, he probably just has a bruised ego for now. Just be yourself and I’m sure he’ll come around.”
+++
Being herself doesn’t work.
Yesterday, when she’d clearly been running with all of her groceries to catch the elevator, he made direct eye contact with her as the doors shut. Made no effort to hold the elevator for her. Just watched her struggle with her groceries as the elevators closed.
Y/n accepts the fact that he’s probably not going to come around.
+++
It’s 10 PM on a Tuesday night when someone comes frantically knocking on y/n’s door.
She’d just been painting in her living room (a casual hobby of hers), dressed in a pair of dark blue, denim overalls splattered with paint, when out of nowhere someone was at her door, knocking as if they were in a life or death situation.
She has no idea who it could be, and is honestly a bit frightened considering this person is pounding on her door so violently, but she hurries over to the door. Peeking out of the peephole, she’s met with a very familiar furrowed brow.
It’s Harry, her next door neighbor. Except, for the first time, he looks more stressed than angry.
She opens the door, a bit embarrassed in her messy painting overalls. She chews on her lip and she stands nervously behind her door, almost as if she’s using it to protect herself. “Hi?” she says timidly, worried about why he might be at her door. Had she done something to make him angry? Was her music too loud or something?
His hair, normally curled atop his head neatly in chocolate colored swirls, now sticks out in every direction as if he’d been running his hands through it constantly, and his eyes are wide and frantic. “My sister…” he pants, out of breath as if he’d run a mile to get here, “She’s in labor. I-I have to go to see her, could you–,” he pauses to catch his breath, chest rising heavily. “Could you please take care of my bunny while I’m gone?”
She blinks for a second. This man, who’d been so cold and mean to her ever since she moved in, was in front of her door… begging her to take care of his bunny?
“Oh!” This was definitely not what she expected when she opened the door and saw Harry standing there. She thought that he was for sure about to yell at her for something, tell her to turn the music down or blow out her candles because he could smell them from his apartment.
This, however… this she could work with. Maybe it would make him finally come around.
“Yes!” she exclaims, after a second. “Oh my gosh, yes, of course! What do you need me to do?”
His shoulders sag with relief. “Thank you,” he says gratefully, letting out a deep breath. He knows that he hasn’t necessarily been the nicest to her and had been worried that she might tell him to fuck off (rightfully so), but he was desperate, and thankfully… she’s an angel.
He ushers her into his apartment, which (as respectfully as she can put it) looks like a tornado has just passed through it. A pile of unopened mail sits on his kitchen counter, abandoned in his rush to get packed, and what seems to be his dinner sits half eaten on his dinner table, fork thrown onto the table next to his plate with a piece of broccoli still hanging onto it. A lone suitcase sits in the middle of his living room, piled with clothes that aren’t folded – just haphazardly thrown in there. It’s abundantly clear that he’s been frantically rushing around his apartment, trying to pack all his stuff together while also figuring out what to do with Thumper.
“Sorry for the mess,” he apologizes over his shoulder, double checking that she’s still within earshot with how fast he’s running around into his apartment. “I-I wasn’t planning on having to go see her so soon, she’s not due for another three weeks,” he rambles, messily shoving a pant leg into his suitcase as he zips it up. “But then she called, and she’s all alone, and–” he looks up at her with wide, earnest eyes, “I just have to be there for her.”
“Hey, don’t be sorry,” she says gently. “I totally get it. It’s no problem.”
He stares at her for a second, eyes flickering between hers, a soft look in his eye. It seems like he’s about to say something– but he stops himself. Instead, he walks over to a large bunny playpen, filled with hay and piles of soft blankets and towels.
Sitting atop one of those worn-out blankets is a fluffy white bunny, nibbling softly on a piece of hay. Harry reaches in and gently picks the little bunny up, who fits perfectly in the palm of his hand. “This is Thumper,” Harry introduces softly, his finger gently petting along the little bunny’s back. “Thumper, this is y/n. She’s gonna take care of you while I'm gone.” The little bunny’s nose twitches softly, chewing on his hay mindlessly.
Y/n doesn’t know what she expected from Harry, but it definitely wasn’t this. From all of her interactions with him, he just seemed so cold and mean and intimidating! But watching him pet his little bunny that sits so peacefully in his large, tattooed hands… hearing him talk to this tiny ball of white fur as if it’s a real person… well it just makes Harry look like a bit of a softie, to be honest. It’s a side of her grumpy neighbor that she never could’ve imagined.
“Hi Thumper,” she coos, taking a timid step forward. “You’re just the cutest thing in the world.”
“He is, isn’t he?” Harry says proudly, a soft dimple in his cheek as he smiles down at his bunny that he loves so much.
Passing Thumper over to her, he maneuvers her hands so that the bunny is resting comfortably. “He likes to be held like this,” he instructs, his hands brushing against hers, “On his stomach, so he can look around. Sometimes he gets a bit nervous when he’s too high up from the ground for a long time, so if he starts thumping that just means he wants to be put down again.”
She nods, copying the way he’d been holding Thumper to the best of her ability. The bunny feels so small and fragile in her hold and she’s terrified of hurting him – but Thumper just twitches his nose gently, completely unaffected by whatever is going on around him.
“This is where he sleeps and spends most of his time,” Harry continues, pointing down at the little den of blankets. “But if you can, try to take him outside for at least an hour everyday. I made the balcony bunny proof and there’s a little grassy area out there with all his toys, so just let him hop around there for a bit. Maybe hang out with him if you can, he’s really playful. It’s just really important for his health, to be outside and have some playtime.”
He puts his hands on his hips and stares at his bunny, who seems totally content in y/n’s arms. A weight is lifted off his shoulders, seeing that Thumper feels comfortable in the arms of this half-stranger. It makes him feel a little less guilty for having to leave him so suddenly.
Harry checks the clock. “Shit!” he cries, gathering his bearings once more. His sister lives almost two hours away, so he needs to leave now.
She follows him, Thumper still in his arms, as he scrambles towards the kitchen. “This is his food,” he says, pulling out a bag of leafy, green vegetables – a nice mix of lettuce, kale, cabbage, and parsley – from his fridge. “Give him a bowlful of these veggies twice a day. He’s not on a really strict schedule, just give him some whenever you have breakfast and dinner. And you saw, he has a bunch of hay in his cage too, which he snacks on all day, so it’s okay if you’re a little late.”
He’s running around his apartment, grabbing things and shoving them into his suitcase at the last minute, and calling out instructions to y/n as fast as he can – frantic, stressed out, with absolutely no time to waste. Y/n watches him with wide eyes, absorbing everything he says, while Thumper sits in her arms quietly completely unbothered by Harry’s frantic bustling.
“Um, if he’s being annoying or thumping or anything like that, give him a treat – they’re in this jar – and he’ll probably calm down. I’m pretty generous with the treats ‘cos he’s just such a good bunny, but also he needs to watch his diet, so I’d limit him to like… 10-12 pellets per day.”
He runs to the living room and picks up his suitcase, dragging it to the door frantically while still spewing out instructions. “He loves cuddling, and he’s a really good bunny so you can leave him on the couch or on my bed and he won’t like– chew anything up. And if it gets really cold at night he has a heating pad in his playpen, just put it in the microwave for a minute or two, and he’ll get on top of it if he wants.”
“Here’s my number if you need anything,” he says, scribbling down his phone number onto one of the abandoned pieces of mail sitting on his kitchen counter. “That’s a three, I know it doesn’t look like it, sorry!” He slams the pen down on the counter and runs into his bedroom, then hurries back out with a backpack, filled to the brim with all his toiletries and other essentials. What seems to be his phone charger hangs out of the front pocket, just about ready to pop out and fall to the ground, but he shoves it in and somehow manages to zip up the overstuffed bag.
“Okay,” he sighs, letting out a deep breath. Now that he’s all packed up and ready to go, he lets himself slow down for a second. He takes a look around to make sure he hasn’t forgotten anything, then turns around to face y/n. Thumper looks up at Harry with his cute little eyes.
“Alright bud, I gotta go,” he whispers quietly, petting the bunny’s cheeks. “Be good, okay?” He leans forward and presses a little kiss against Thumper’s forehead, his cheek brushing against y/n’s arm, who still has Thumper coddled to her chest.
“I should be back soon,” he says to y/n, looking at her with gentle eyes. “Thank you again, for taking care of him. I know it’s all last minute.”
“Don’t worry about it,” she says with a smile.
Harry smiles back at her softly. The first time she’s ever seen him look at her with a smile. It makes her heart flutter happily, one step closer to making her neighbor stop hating her.
“Here’s the key to my apartment. I… I’ve got to go now. But text me if anything happens.”
With a final deep breath and a pat on Thumper’s head, Harry heads out the door and runs to the elevator.
And then it’s just y/n and Thumper, alone in Harry’s apartment.
Who would’ve thought.
+++
Y/n doesn’t really have much experience with bunnies… but she imagines that if she were a bunny and her bunny Dad randomly left her with a stranger in the middle of the night, then she’d be a pretty stressed out bunny.
Luckily, Thumper seems pretty relaxed.
After Harry left, she just put him back into his playpen and watched him chew on some hay and relax on his comfy pile of blankets. She warmed up his heating pad, just as Harry instructed, but Thumper didn’t even need it. He just headed to bed like a good little bunny and went through the night peacefully, with only the occasional twitch of his nose and a little scuffle as if he were having a rabbit dream.
Just to be safe, y/n spent the night on Harry’s couch, sleeping right next to Thumper’s little pen just in case he started thumping in the middle of the night and needed some attention. In the morning, she scuttled back to her apartment to make herself a quick breakfast, then hurried back to give Thumper his morning veggies. And in the time that she’d normally spend reading on her own balcony, she instead went out onto Harry’s balcony and watched as Thumper happily hopped around in the grass and played with his little bunny toys.
She runs into very little problems while bunny-sitting for Harry, and actually finds herself particularly fond of this fluffy little creature. But she wonders, even if she has no questions for Harry, should she still send him a text? He left her his number in case she had any questions, but he’d probably wouldn’t mind an update text either? I mean… if she were a Bunny Dad and she had to randomly leave her bunny in the middle of the night, then she’d probably want to know that her bunny was safe and happy!
After much overthinking and lots of nervous pacing around Harry’s kitchen, she decides to send him a text. A simple, “Hi, it’s y/n!” accompanied with a cute picture of Thumper, chomping on some lettuce with his floppy ears hanging cutely and his big eyes glimmering. She then follows it with another text, saying that they just ate some breakfast together and went out on the balcony for some morning playtime.
She throws her phone down after she sends the text, beyond nervous to be sending messages to the grumpy neighbor that had scared her for so long. She jumps when her phone chimes with a message less than a minute later, apologizing to Thumper who gives an annoyed thump, as if he’s telling her to stop being so dramatic.
“How’s he behaving?” reads Harry’s response.
“Like an angel!” she says. “Slept through the night without any thumping and had lots of fun playing in the grass.”
“Good,” he texts back, and she thinks that’s the end of it. But after a minute another message comes through. “Give him an extra treat from me, he deserves it :)”
A smiley face! Who knew grumpy Harry knew how to use smiley faces.
She sends back a picture of Thumper with his treat. And a smiley face for good measure.
:)
+++
Harry comes back home five days later.
He’d managed to make it to the hospital just in time. His sister had been in active labor on her own for about four hours at that point, and spent another four hours in excruciating pain once Harry got there. His mum arrived around 45 minutes after he did, and Miles (his sister’s husband, aka the father of this child), arrived last, only about 30 minutes before she was fully dilated and ready to start pushing.
All of them had scrambled to make it there on time, considering how unexpected and early his sister went into labor. He’s just thankful that Miles and his Mum were there too, so that he wouldn’t have to be the one holding her hand while she pushed (as supportive as he wanted to be, he had to leave the room or else he would’ve passed out).
The baby did come a bit early, but after a few tests the doctors said that she was fine, just a bit smaller than usual! They spent the night in the hospital, just to be safe, and were discharged to go home as a happy little family the next morning.
Harry and his mum stayed with Gemma and Miles in their cozy little for a few days, helping around the house while the new parents rested and recovered. Harry helped with the finishing touches of the nursery and went out shopping for extra diapers and baby toys, while his mom cooked homey meals for her kids and tutted over her new granddaughter.
It was nice for them to be all together again, celebrating the newest addition to their happy family, but after a few days the guilt of being away from Thumper for so long was growing too heavy. His mum promised to stay with Gemma and make sure that she’s recovering well, and with a kiss to his newborn baby niece, he headed back home to his precious baby bunny.
He unlocks his door, dragging his suitcase in behind him, and faintly hears a soft, sweet voice from inside. He abandons his suitcase and tiptoes closer and closer to the voice. He finds y/n, out on his balcony with Thumper.
“You are so cute!” she says to Thumper, sitting on her knees and rolling a little ball towards him, which Thumper nudges back with his nose. “I wish I could give you another treat, but your Dad said not to give you too many… I dunno though, should we break the rules a little bit? One extra treat since you’re being such a good bunny?”
Thumper’s nose twitches excitedly, as if he knows that she’s about to reward him with another treat, and Harry’s heart flutters in his chest. This scene – y/n, talking to his little bunny as if he’s a real person, coddling him and giving him treats – it’s a bit endearing. He tries to stop the soft smile growing on his face, to ignore the fuzzy feeling in his tummy… but he can’t help it. He’s endeared.
He tries to casually lean against his couch and watch the scene for a few more moments, but he accidentally knocks a pen off of his coffee table, making y/n yelp and turn around. “Oh!” she bubbles, “Hi Harry!”
He straightens himself out and clears his throat, wiping the silly smile off his face and trying to come off as neutral as possible. “Hello,” he says, with a polite nod of his head.
“How was your sister? Did you have a nice trip?”
“Y-yeah it was good, thanks,” he twists his hands nervously behind his back. “She had a little baby girl. Healthy and happy. It was really nice.”
Y/n’s eyes round out, a soft glimmer in them. “Oh, I’m so happy to hear that.”
He ignores the fluttering in his stomach, and wipes away the nervous sweat of his hands onto his pants. “Um– How was Thumper?”
“A right angel!” she exclaims, picking Thumper up and handing him over to Harry. “Wish I could steal him from you. If you ever need me to watch him again, don’t be afraid to ask, I loved hanging out with him.”
Harry can’t help the dimple that pops out on his cheek, blushing slightly at her kind words and pretty smile. “I– Really, I can’t thank you enough.”
“No worries, honestly! Just don’t be a stranger,” she says, a playful glimmer in her eye.
+++
The next morning, sitting on her balcony with her mug in hand, she watches anxiously as Harry steps out of his apartment with his watering can.
Would things go back to normal, with him ignoring her and hating her and pretending she doesn’t exist? Or… has he finally come around?
She holds her breath as he slides his balcony open. He looks at her. She looks at him.
He breaks a smile. “Good morning,” he says, dimple in cheek.
She exhales.
“Good morning, Harry,” she responds with a grin.
+++
Y/n hates thunderstorms.
She hates the sound of thunder, hates how loud and unexpected it is. Hates how her entire body trembles when thunder crashes outside her window, hates how she can feel it shake her apartment. And lightning… don’t even get her started on lightning! She has a recurring nightmare that she’s sound asleep, only to be woken up by electrocution ‘cos the lightning bolt decided her bed was the perfect place to land.
Now, when she lived in her old apartment, she was lucky enough to have amazing roommates who would comfort her during really bad storms. She could sit and talk with Sameera until the storm passed, watch a movie with Savanna to block out the sounds of thunder. Sometimes, if the storm was really bad, Nia would even cuddle y/n to sleep so that she’d calm down. Y/n would bury herself in her roommate’s loving arms, hiding her face in Nia’s chest as she willed away the anxiety attacks and tried not to cry every time she felt the rumbling thunder outside.
Now that she lives on her own, however, she has nobody to comfort her.
She thought it’d be fine, told herself that she’s far too grown to still be hiding in her closet whenever it rained a little bit outside! So she climbed into her bed, snuggled herself under her blankets, and turned on a movie, ignoring the storm outside to the best of her ability. With her pretty fairy lights turned on, her favorite movie playing (Pride and Prejudice 2005), and her headphones blocking out all the thunder, she was 100% confident that she’d be able to get through the night all on her own!
That is… until the power went out.
Her movie paused, her heater went silent, and her fairy lights suddenly turned off. She tried to turn on the main light in her room, but the light switch flicked on and off with no effect. Same with her desk lamp, and the light in her bathroom. Everything was pitch black.
Sitting in the dark, with only flashes of lightning to illuminate her room… it was terrifying for y/n.
She scrambled to turn on the flashlight on her phone, and felt her heart drop when she saw that she was only at 9%. How was she going to survive the night without her phone? She rushes around, trying to see if she has any extra flashlights or candles… but her emergency flashlight has no batteries, and although she has a wide variety of candles to choose from… she has no matches in her new apartment.
She’s thoroughly fucked.
A bolt of lightning strikes outside, followed by a crash of thunder that makes y/n yelp and fall to the floor. She’s on the verge of tears, with nowhere to turn and nothing to comfort her… when she gets a text.
Harry: Everything alright in your apartment?
Her hands tremble as she types out a response.
Not really :( she responds. trying to find a flashlight or something but im having no luck and my phones gonna die soon :(
Another rumble of thunder shakes her apartment. She closes her eyes and tries to regulate her breathing with shaky inhales and whimpery exhales.
Harry responds a minute later.
Do you want to come over to mine?
+++
PART 2 IS ALREADY POSTED ON PATREON :) HOPE U LOVE EM!!!!
You'll eventually read the rest here: Have a Nice Day, Miss | ~4.2k words
From Me/Warnings: so I was inspired a little by Only Murderers in the Building. The good news: no murders in this one, lol. Bad news: you'll probably see a bit of angst throughout, but not in this part. I hope you like them 💕
Summary:
“Alden’s niece?” Niall asked from behind him. “I think I caught a glimpse of her. Cute. Is that her stuff?” Harry nodded silently keeping a steady gaze on her items. “You alright?”
He nodded again. “Jus’ keeping an eye on her stuff.”
He snorted. “Oh?” He quirked an eyebrow at his friend. Harry stared at him. “You’ve got it bad,” Niall chuckled quietly.
One of the hardest parts of Harry’s job was being happy (or at least looking like he was happy) when he was not having a good day. He didn’t get the best sleep. A lot of his night was spent thinking about all the things he had to do today and all the things that he didn’t get to before falling asleep.
Fortunately, the first resident he saw early that morning was Arthur. So, at the very least, it was a little easier to pretend that he was doing okay this morning.
“Mr. Langley, good morning,” Harry smiled, a real genuine smile that he didn’t need to fake. “Your driver is right outside; your coffee was delivered just a moment ago. What time should I expect you back so I can put your thermostat back on?”
“Five-thirty, Mr. Styles. Thank you,” he took the coffee and checked his watch. Arthur was older, his watch was probably worth more than Harry’s entire salary for a year. But Arthur was kind, tipped well at the holidays, and thanked Harry profusely every single day regardless of if he did all that much for him. If Harry was rich, he’d want to be just like Arthur. “How’s the weather out there?”
“It’s a typical January day. Warm in the sun, cold in the wind.”
“Sure, alright. I’ll see you this evening. Don’t work too hard,” he winked.
Harry couldn’t help but grin. Arthur was one of his favorites. “Have a good day, Mr. Langley,” he said holding open the door for him and then turned back toward the lobby. It was huge, the desk where Harry spent a lot of his day was across from the main doors and it was the shortest distance to the elevator. There was ample seating. Some of the residents spent time down there, especially during the holidays to admire the tree Harry put up and get warm by the beautiful fireplace.
Harry didn’t have a lot of money, but the lobby was one of his favorite places.
Except for when someone, who was consistently in a worse mood than he was, arrived like clockwork.
He was sorry to say, but Mrs. Wentworth was… not one of his favorites. She was very particular and was displeased more often than not.
Harry strode back across the lobby to his desk waiting for the list of demands that he was sure were about to fall from her lips at any moment. “Good morning, Mrs. Wentworth,” did he grit his teeth behind his smile a little? Perhaps. It was something he had perfected morning after morning. The older woman barely acknowledged his greeting.
“I have a package coming this morning. It’s very important it doesn’t get mishandled. I don’t want it lying around down here for anyone to take nor on my doorstep. Set it on my kitchen table.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he nodded politely at her demand. In Harry’s time as doorman, he had not once lost a package to theoretical thieves. Hell, he’d hardly ever mixed up two packages when he brought them to a resident’s doorstep. Most people gathered their items in the lobby. Mrs. Wentworth was one of the only people who asked for her packages to be delivered to her door. “Do you need me to call a car, Mrs. Wentworth?” He asked kindly. Get you out of here a little faster, perhaps? He thought to himself.
God, he was not chipper at all this morning.
“Well, it’s not going to call itself now, is it?”
Harry swallowed the ironic laughter that threatened to bubble out of him. He couldn’t help it; it was comical—almost like clockwork that this curmudgeonly woman would have an attitude like that with Harry. He was nothing but polite to everyone, but the least not her, always. “Right away, Mrs. Wentworth,” he nodded and quickly busied himself with the phone call for her car and driver. He hoped for the person at the other end of the line would send a veteran and not a new driver. That would be disastrous for everyone involved.
Seconds after hanging up, he found Mrs. Wentworth gathering her mail from the boxes in the small little room where they resided to the right of the lobby. He took a small, relieved breath to not have to worry for fifteen seconds before her next demand was ordered. Or that she wasn’t eyeing him like he forgot to iron his shirt.
Within those fifteen seconds, however, the electronic beeping of a large moving truck pulled up and backed up against the curb outside the building. Briefly he glanced at the notes he had prepared on the desk in front of him just to double-check he had all the relevant information corrected.
The newest resident of Kingsley Place was moving in.
The building had been around for nearly a hundred years but had been renovated in the current century. It was hard for a new person to move in unless they had a lot of money or a lot of wealth prior to signing the lease.
Which was exactly what Harry was afraid of.
“That truck is going to get in the way of my car,” Mrs. Wentworth snapped.
Especially if the new resident was going to be anything like Mrs. Wentworth.
Harry hurried to the door hoping to assure Mrs. Wentworth of any problems. (Plus, if the truck blocked her in, Harry would never hear the end of it, and he might not make it through his workday). He waved to the driver to get his attention. “Can I trouble you to move up a bit?” He asked. The driver saluted him and moved up just as Mrs. Wentworth’s car pulled up. Harry held the door open as the old woman crossed the threshold. Harry was excited to see her off for the day. Who knew what she did while she was gone all day, but at least she wouldn’t be souring his mood in the lobby for any longer. The driver of the truck got out and started to open the back with a loud, clanging, metallic sound as the door slid to the top.
“Whoever the new resident is, better not scratch up the floor or the elevator with their junk,” Harry held open the door for her to pass through. She stood just in front of the entry way waiting for Harry’s next move.
“Course not, Mrs. Wentworth,” Harry held his arm out for her to take to walk to the edge of the sidewalk and get into her car.
“Oh great,” she scoffed bitterly. “It’s another one of you young’uns,” her voice was filled with distaste. “She better not play loud music and better not be on my floor.”
Better for her sake, surely. Harry knew next to nothing about the new resident other than her name. Other than she was Henry Alden’s niece and had been given the luxurious apartment on the twelfth floor (luckily for everyone involved, not the same floor as Mrs. Wentworth). For once, Harry sided with the old, cranky lady.
Harry was frustrated that she was young too. Or perhaps jealous was a better word for how he felt (although he would deny it tooth and nail). Harry worked hard. He tried his best every day and yet people were still handed the pretty apartments like the one this woman was about to move into.
Harry glanced in the direction of the truck expecting to find a woman like all the other new-money residents that lived in his building. He expected name brand athleisure wear and a mere photo op of her “moving in” with her make up and hair perfectly done and a crew of men to do the actual moving. He’d seen it at least ten times over.
Harry thought about when he moved into the building. It was a small living space, he was allowed in what was practically the basement of the building. He moved every item in himself without help. Granted he didn’t have much. He was very grateful for any space in the beautiful building at a reasonable price when he saw how much the apartments he served cost.
“Excuse me, ma’am.”
The voice came from behind them as Harry helped Mrs. Wentworth into the car. The woman that Harry had been thinking about, and the one Mrs. Wentworth was worried about being too loud appeared just off the side of Harry’s elbow. “I believe you dropped this,” she said holding out an envelope. Harry glanced at it briefly and he wasn’t quite sure of its contents of course, but he’d bet there was a check or money in it, for sure.
Mrs. Wentworth snatched it out of her hands. “Harry, did you see it fall? Did you try to take it?!”
Harry nearly gaped. He started to protest before he could stop it; he spent a lot of time refraining from speaking his mind around his least favorite resident. But he slept poorly and he was on track for a bad day. It would rid himself of Mrs. Wentworth once and for all if he just told her off.
If this angry, old woman got him fired because she was going to accuse him of stealing when he had never been anything but nice to her, he would without a doubt cry.
But before he could finally tell her off, he was interrupted.
“No ma’am,” she said quickly instead. “I was just coming over to introduce myself, when you adjusted your purse over your shoulder, I saw it flutter out. Must have caught the breeze. It’s okay! It’s all sealed and I didn’t see anything else fall,” she said reassuringly with a kind smile. Her voice was gentle and it sounded like the way her smile looked: pretty, warm, and lovely. Harry only had a peripheral visual of her at the moment. He was trying to make sure Mrs. Wentworth was safely inside the car and not about to break a leg between the curb and the door frame. “It’s nice to meet you,” she stuck her hand out in between Harry and the open space of the car. He chose this moment to look at the driver up front, steeling himself for a ride with Mrs. Wentworth. It clearly wasn’t his first rodeo either—and Harry was glad the company sent someone used to her antics—and if she was in a bad mood before she got in the car it was all over for him.
“Oh.”
Harry, in the seven or so years of being at Kingsley Place, had not once seen Mrs. Wentworth at a loss for words (or complaint). She shook the new resident’s hand awkwardly and Harry stepped away from the side of the road. “Have a lovely day, Mrs. Wentworth,” he hoped he sounded level and cool, and not like he was begging for her to leave..
“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Wentworth,” the woman beside him smiled beautifully.
(It was right at that moment that Harry felt some flicker of emotion in the pit of his stomach. It echoed in his chest. It had been a long time since he wanted a relationship. When he was surrounded by all that money and glamour—especially the new-money residents—he didn’t think of relationships much at all. Since he lacked the kind of money he saw every day, it was hard to convince himself that he could be in a relationship or support someone else. It didn’t feel like it was in the cards for him at this juncture in his life. That was fine by him. He wanted to be out of debt. Wanted to live his quiet little life and nothing more. So, the woman’s kindness and helpfulness to the lowly doorman made that dormant emotion that Harry wasn’t quite sure what it was flutter in his body. It felt almost like some long-ago memory of falling for someone. Was it because she was pretty or because she told off his least favorite resident with nothing but sugar on her tongue? He couldn’t quite tell just yet, but he figured at the very least it was probably both.)
She gave a gentle wave and turned back to her moving truck where the driver was stacking boxes on the sidewalk.
Harry wasn’t sure what he expected.
The new, younger residents didn’t do anything on their own. They needed help with everything. The eye rolls Harry kept at bay when they asked him for inane things and help felt like he was going to develop a head trauma at any moment. They knew how to flash their money around and that was it.
But here she was, thanking the driver and climbing on the back of the truck and procuring a handcart to help with her boxes. “Oh, you’re still here, great!” she said with a bright smile as she hopped down again. “She’s a piece of work, hmm?” She smirked knowingly and tilted her head toward the retreating car.
Harry realized he was staring. How could he not? He had full visual of her now. She was wearing athleisure wear, but he wasn’t sure it was name-brand. He thought back to when the building first opened. Maybe there was something about ankles that were cute. It was cool, but she just wore a sweatshirt over her head. It had a logo for a science seminar of some kind. He didn’t want to get caught staring at her chest, so he opted for a quick scan and nothing more. He cleared his throat. “Uhh… yeah.”
“I’m the new resident. The old Alden residence. My uncle,” she explained.
He nodded solemnly. He tried not to notice the way she lifted her boxes onto the cart because it involved a lot of bending and stretching and she was…pretty. Very, very pretty.
He should have offered his help. He peered around her and noticed the large truck had a lot of extra space and not nearly enough to warrant such a large truck. “You’ll jus’ need t’sign in at the front,” he mumbled.
“Sure, of course,” she grinned sweetly. “I believe I spoke to someone on the phone about who I’d meet today. You’re Mr. Styles, is that correct?”
He cleared his throat again. “Harry, yes,” he reached for one of the boxes and placed it on top of the other. He wasn’t supposed to. If anything, he should have waited for her to ask, at least.
Her pretty eyes followed the movement immediately. “Thank you, Harry,” her voice was so kind, filled with gratitude. “I’m sure you’re busy and I know you’re not supposed to help; I appreciate that. Let me sign whatever you need so I can get out of your way,” she pulled her cart behind her as she headed for the front door.
Harry was a bit stunned. A wave of awe washed over him. She had to have money… right? Her uncle had a lot of money so… it was a family thing… right? Where were her movers? Harry shook his head and tried to remember how to do his job before one of the other residents saw him. Mrs. Wentworth would probably tear him a new one if she saw him not holding the door for her—even if the old lady decided her feelings about the new resident before getting to know her.
Ugh, I’m just like Mrs. Wentworth. Harry thought.
“Uhh… right, yeah, sorry,” he shook his head and hurried for the door. He grabbed it and allowed her through. Behind them, the driver was still stacking boxes on the sidewalk. She pulled the cart behind her, it stuck a bit on the lip of the door frame and she huffed as she exerted a little more energy to get it over the entryway.
“This is going to be such a pain,” she frowned and whispered it to herself.
God, she was cute.
No, no she’s not, stop it. Harry shook his head, moved behind his desk and found the appropriate paperwork and whatnot. “Sign here,” he stated and handed the pen to her. She skimmed over the words; it wasn’t a contract or anything. That was all sent electronically. This was just acknowledgement that Harry handed off her keys.
“I know we just met and all and you don’t have to stand over it or anything, but could you keep an eye on the boxes he leaves on the sidewalk? I just have to run up to my apartment and drop these off. I’ll be right back down,” she looked at him expectantly. Her eyebrows knit together just a bit, and she looked a little nervous, like Harry was going to say no. And he could. She was right. It wasn’t in his job description.
Was it hot in the lobby? Did he turn the heat up too high since it was colder outside? He felt warm as she spoke to him and maybe a little nervous himself. He didn’t like that she was pouting. It seemed genuine. She seemed… lost. There was no one there except for her. Did any of Alden’s family live near by? He couldn’t remember. “You don’t have to fight anyone over it either. I grabbed all the important ones first,” she said quickly. Like that would be the deciding factor for him.
“You’re moving your stuff in?” He realized by then, but it was like he needed confirmation.
She tilted her head. “Well, yeah…”
“What about the driver?”
She turned to look out at the sidewalk briefly before turning back to him with a shrug. “He’s going elsewhere. More pickups, I think. I paid him a little extra to help get the stuff off the truck but I’m on my own here.”
“Oh,” he shook his head. “I’ll… I’ll keep an eye on it.”
“Yeah?!” She sighed with relief. “Thank you, Mr. Styles. Seriously, I appreciate it so much,” she said gratefully and placed the pen back on the paper she signed. He handed her the key to her apartment and then she all but skipped over to the elevator with relief that Harry was going to help her.
Harry realized too late that he was once more not doing his job. He all but ran across the lobby to smack the button before she could. He needed to be a little useful to this woman. Anything would be better than standing there with his mouth halfway to the floor in awe of her.
“You can call me Harry if you want,” he mumbled.
She smiled waiting patiently for the elevator to ascend. “It’s really whatever you would prefer.”
For a brief moment he considered keeping it the utmost professional. But she was young and Harry was lonely and she was moving in all by herself so maybe she was a little lonely too. “Harry is fine,” he said very softly.
“Great,” she grinned brightly. She tucked the strand of pretty, soft looking hair behind her ear that was pulled from the bun she had artfully affixed to the back of her head. “Thank you again, Harry.”
“My pleasure, really. Welcome to Kingsley Place,” he nodded, just as the elevator chimed with its arrival. He held the door open (not that it was going to close any time soon, but he wanted to make sure she was safely inside with all her belongings before it shut) and let her pass across its threshold.
“Harry?” She asked gently.
“Yes?” He pressed the twelfth-floor button.
“What apartment number am I?”
He smirked. “12A, Miss.”
“12A,” she repeated. Harry noticed it sounded like a bird singing a song first thing in the morning. “I’ll be right back,” she took a deep breath and Harry stepped back as the elevator doors closed.
He stared at where she was standing just moments ago. She was moving in on her own. She didn’t even know which apartment she was living in. Harry knew next to nothing about her and yet there was some long-forgotten familiarity to her. Something that he couldn’t quite place that made him feel a little lighter.
Was he having a bad morning? He couldn’t remember.
“Who was that?” He spun on his heel and saw Niall making his way to the office behind the front desk to hang up his coat. He dressed a bit differently than Harry did, but still looked professional. Harry heard the jingle of his keys as he hooked them on his belt loop and strapped his tool belt around his hips. Harry returned to the door and watched as the driver moved the last of her items on the ground. Harry gave a nod to him and watched him depart from the curb.
“New resident.”
“Alden’s niece?” He asked from behind him. He grabbed the clipboard off the desk and scanned the orders that Harry printed off when he got to the office. Niall had a busy day ahead of him. Harry nodded watching the stuff on the sidewalk like it might suddenly disappear. “I think I caught a glimpse of her. Cute. Is that her stuff?” Harry nodded silently keeping a steady gaze on her items. “You alright?”
He nodded again. “Jus’ keeping an eye on her stuff.”
“Hmm,” Niall tilted his head at his best friend. “That’s nice of you.”
“Would y’mind helping me move it into the lobby?”
He snorted. “Oh?” He quirked an eyebrow at his friend. Harry stared at him. “You’ve got it bad,” Niall chuckled quietly.
“Got what bad?” Harry turned to glare at him.
He held the clipboard up like it was a shield. “Nothing, nothing at all. Just didn’t know you would break the rules for someone.”
“She’s all alone moving all her things,” he mumbled.
“That’s a nice change of pace,” Niall agreed. He and Niall talked at length, how differently the other half lived—the kind of wealth that they would never understand. Harry and Niall worked hard. Always. They believed some of their residents hadn’t worked a day in their lives.
“Will y’help or not?”
Niall chuckled again but followed Harry outside and started grabbing boxes to carry through the door to stack near the chairs in the lobby. He didn’t block any seats, didn’t block the mailboxes, or anything that could annoy other residents.
“She told off Mrs. Wentworth,” Harry mumbled with the thought of annoyed residents.
“Oh, you’re going to marry the fuck out of her,” Niall laughed loudly. Harry was grateful they were outside so none of the residents heard him.
Harry rolled his eyes. “I am not.”
“You’re bringing her boxes inside.”
Harry ignored his friend and continued moving boxes in as quickly as he could. The elevator signaled her arrival (although he realized after the fact it really could have been any of the residents, but he chose not to read into it) and he was right. She reappeared with her empty cart and that extremely bright smile of hers filled her very pretty face. “Oh, that’s so kind of you, but don’t feel like you have to, I know it’s not your job,” she said sweetly. “Thank you, Harry. Really.”
“I helped too!” His best friend pouted entering from outside once more.
She laughed this beautiful, sweet sound that Harry was in awe of; that long-forgotten feeling continued bubbling inside of him. “Nice to meet you,” she held her hand out and Harry was extremely jealous that Mrs. Wentworth and Niall were getting to hold her hand (no matter how briefly).
“If you need anything let Harry or I know. He’ll make sure I fix it,” he assured her. “I’d love to stay and help, but I’ve got a busy schedule,” he explained. “Harry would be happy to help you, still though,” he said and boarded the elevator to start his day.
Niall made kissy faces at Harry as the doors closed and Harry ignored him completely.
“I jus’ figured it’d be easier t’watch your stuff if it was inside the building. So, I could keep working on m’actual stuff,” he wondered if he sounded a little colder to her. He felt like he did. He was trying hard to keep a boundary that he feared was slipping away very quickly.
She nodded; her kind smile was full of gratitude still despite his prickliness. She was so pretty looking, and she didn’t look bothered that she was alone and moving all by herself. “Well thank you Harry. I was more worried about it on the street. This is really a huge help. Don’t trouble yourself with anything else. I’ll get this out of here in no time,” she began stacking more boxes on her cart as she spoke and it was filled within moments. “I’ll be spending most of the day unpacking, so hopefully I won’t bother you or anyone else once I’m upstairs.”
“Right, sure. That sounds good,” he muttered. Was he upset that he wouldn’t see her much once her boxes were gone? Maybe he could ‘hide’ one and ‘find’ it and bring it to her…
She stacked a few more boxes on her cart. “Well, if I don’t see you later, have a nice day, Harry. Thank you again.”
He watched her get on the elevator once more. He held it open until he knew she was safely inside with all her belongings. “Have a nice day, Miss,” he said gently. That pretty smile disappeared behind the closing doors and she ascended to the twelfth floor.
--
general taglist: @daydreamingofmatilda @loving-hazz @angel-upon @summertime-pills @daphnesutton
I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)
From Me/Warnings: smut, mdni. Hopefully I got the awkward first time nailed because I really struggled to write it so if it sucks, you'll have to lie to me anyway. Other than that, nothing to really warn you about. Isn't that a nice change of pace. Thanks for sticking around for this story (especially through the last part, it wasn't very well done--hopefully I clear up everything here!). Sorry it took half a year :( we'll see them again soon! 💕
Summary: “Do y’need anything from your apartment?” Harry asked.
“No, I can’t imagine having to walk up all that way.”
He chuckled, stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Well… I’d walk up, darling,” he shrugged.
Her eyes looked a little bloodshot still, as she turned to him. “You would?” Her voice cracked a little bit as she spoke.
Harry cupped the side of her face and brushed his thumb along her jaw. “Darling, y’need t’get used t’me doing things for you.”
At least walking down the steps was significantly better than walking (or running, for that matter) up four flights. It also allowed them to get her phone in the stairwell and Harry’s out of his office. “Do y’need anything from your apartment?” Harry asked.
“No, I can’t imagine having to walk up all that way.”
He chuckled, stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Well… I’d walk up, darling,” he shrugged.
Her eyes looked a little bloodshot still, as she turned to him. “You would?” Her voice cracked a little bit as she spoke.
Harry cupped the side of her face and brushed his thumb along her jaw. “Darling, y’need t’get used t’me doing things for you.”
She pouted slightly. But was otherwise expressionless, and silent. Harry knew she wasn’t used to that. If he didn’t know from the everyday interactions he had with her, her monologue in the elevator explained it all. Harry pressed a hand on her lower back as a guide to his apartment. Harry let her through first and immediately the meowing outside the window began. “Aw, Leech, I missed you,” she cooed as she opened the window. Leech twirled around under her hand as she petted him.
Harry chuckled behind her, closing and locking the door. He got Leech’s food and water dishes and set them out on the step as he settled beside her to watch his stray cat eat. “He missed you, too,” he murmured. “We both did.”
She rested her head on his shoulder. “I missed you too,” she whispered.
He kissed the top of her head and watched the cat. “Want to go to bed?”
Given how exhausted she was, Harry wasn’t surprised by how eagerly she nodded. “Please.”
“Bye Leech,” he waved and closed the window.
“Do you have an extra pair of shorts and a T-shirt?” She asked. Harry went to his dresser and found something she hoped would be the most comfortable. “I’ll be a few minutes…I need to shower,” she yawned, headed to the bathroom. Harry made sure she had a bottle of water on her side of the bed (and he relished and bathed in the idea of a her side of the bed). He quickly changed into something more comfortable and made sure the bed was as comfy as could be for her.
Harry was feeling the slightest bit impatient. He knocked softly on the bathroom door. “There’s a toothbrush under the sink y’can have,” he offered.
“Mm,” she sighed.
“Are y’okay, darling?” He asked just a bit nervous that she might pass out.
“Just tired,” she mumbled.
“Well, hurry out and I’ll take care of you.”
“Such dirty talk while I’m showering, Harry,” she sounded way too tired to flirt. Harry chuckled to himself, shook his head and stood beside the door while she continued running the water. Harry did everything he could not to think about how she was probably less than ten feet away from him, soapy, and wet, and—
Harry cleared his throat, shook his head and paced a few times back and forth until he heard the water shut off. He was beside the door again listening carefully for any sign of her passing out. He heard the ruffle of the shower curtain, her towel, the sound of the elastic in the shorts cinching around her hips with a small snap. He heard the click of the cabinet opening and closing, then the sink turn on and listened to her brush her teeth. He wondered if it was insane to be in love with her this much. That the sound of her toothbrush against her teeth seemed like a song.
As soon as the door opened, she bounced slightly in surprise that he was standing right beside her. He barely let her take a step further than the threshold before he scooped her into his arms and she gasped. “Hey!” She giggled. “I can walk.”
Harry chuckled and kissed the side of her head. “I know,” he walked over to the bed and gently deposited her on the mattress. She stretched like a cat and wrapped her arms around his pillow and curled gently as he wrapped the blankets around her.
“You smell good,” she murmured.
Harry chuckled again, slid into bed beside her and wrapped himself around her. He kissed the back of her head. “Good night, darling,” he whispered. After all the commotion, Harry felt so much relief having her in his arms. Her soft breathing already sounded like she was dreaming. Harry was grateful she was there, safe, and finally relaxing. Slowly he drifted off.
“I love you, Harry,” she murmured.
Harry felt like he was more awake than ever. He kissed the side of her head again and combed her hair back behind her ear. “I love you.”
*
She vaguely heard the door open and close. Blindly she felt the empty bed beside her and pouted. Slowly she sat up and rubbed her eyes, then pushed her messy hair away from her face. She knew she was a mess, probably had a line of dried droll on her cheek, and the imprint of her pillowcase wrinkled on her face like it was on her arm.
But Harry was smiling at her, setting two coffee cups on the counter. Looking at her like she was really the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. It made her stomach flutter. “You left me,” she frowned.
He chuckled. “Just t’get y’coffee, darling… I could never leave you.”
The gravity of his sentence was not lost on her. The way he said it may have been silly about a much-needed coffee run, but his words were deeper and she knew it. It made her stomach flip. “What time is it?” She asked instead and slowly moved away from the bed.
He glanced at his wrist. “Almost eleven.”
She gaped. “I don’t think I’ve ever slept till eleven,” she mumbled crossing over to him and tucked herself into his body, wrapped her arms around his waist. He draped one arm around her and kissed the top of her head.
“Well, y’needed it,” he kissed the top of her head again and lifted her drink to her lips. “But as soon as you’re dressed, we’re going mattress shopping,” he stated knowingly.
She rolled her eyes. “Can’t I jus’ sleep here?”
“Y’have a big, beautiful apartment, darling. Y’know y’can sleep here every night for the rest of time,” he assured her. “But y’need t’make it feel like home anyway.”
“When we eat grilled cheese it feels like home,” she said quietly sipping her drink again. She knew he didn’t make it, but it felt like it tasted even better just because he was holding it for her. She had to be very careful around Harry, or she would never lift a finger. If he had it his way, he would carry her everywhere, spoon-feed her, and hold her coffee to her lips for the rest of their lives. As thoughtful and lovely that was and she would cherish each of those moments, she couldn’t let him do everything because some part of him thought it was all he was good for, for her. “I think it just feels like home when you’re there… your place feels like home...”
Harry squeezed her closer for a moment. “Well then buy a mattress, darling. So we can make it feel like home there too.”
“Leech can’t come to the twelfth floor.”
“Good riddance,” Harry rolled his eyes.
“Harry!” She gasped. “Don’t be mean to him, he’s a baby,” she frowned.
“I’ve known him for like five years, darling and he was already grown at that point. He’s not a baby.”
“Well, I just met him, he’s my baby.”
He rolled his eyes and gathered items for said baby’s breakfast—or brunch since it was so late. He opened the window and placed the little dishes on the outside steps. “Do…do you have to work today?” He asked.
She shook her head.
“Do you have to go to the police station?”
She shook her head again.
“Errands?”
More head shaking.
“You don’t have to do anything?”
She smiled.
*
Not having to do anything meant they still did something. They did run out to get some more food, and they did buy her a mattress that Harry was very adamant needed to arrive by such-and-such a date, or else.
Except he didn’t actually say “or else” because Harry was simply too kind for that kind of threat. Harry got her more coffee, and he kept smiling at her. He held her hand while they walked around and pressed his hand on her lower back anytime that they walked through a doorway or had a smaller path to move through around a crowd of people. When they returned to Kingsley Place Harry waved at Nick and the other residents that milled around the lobby, but he didn’t remove his hand from hers as they took the stairs down to his basement apartment.
They laid on his bed again and stared at the ceiling for a bit. “I have to go to my parents for a few days,” she murmured.
He frowned. “Yeah?”
She nodded. “I almost forgot,” she smirked sadly. “I feel like an entire year has passed in the last day.”
He turned on his side. “Do y’want me t’come with you?”
Did she want Harry to be around her crazy, needy, family and be perfect and do everything she asked him to do and all the things she didn’t ask him to do? All while he worried endlessly about money he was missing out on, the state of the building, and all the things that she simply didn’t want him to worry about as long as she was around?
She wanted him there so badly but needed to work a few things out. She wanted to tell her family first. Prepare them so Harry had a chance of meeting a group of normal functioning adults and not the insane team she had to call her family. “No,” she shook her head. If she sprung Harry on them this weekend there was a really good chance he’d never speak to her again. “I want to keep you to myself for a little while longer,” she turned on her side to face him. That was the truth. If she could, they would live in his little apartment together until the end of time. Hiding from the world above them and nothing else.
He reached over and stroked the same spot of her hair, brushing it softly from her temple to down and behind her ear. “You’re so beautiful, it’s crazy,” he whispered.
She blushed; she could feel the way her cheeks turned hotter as he looked at her. “I love you so much,” she answered. His smile spread across his face. Her phone pinged and she sighed heavily. “I’m sorry,” she frowned and reached for it.
He shrugged. “S’okay. You’re a very important person,” he chuckled.
“Davis keeps asking me how I knew and I don’t know how to explain that it was all just luck,” she sighed and tapped a few times on her screen before moving the phone away again.
“It was more than luck, darling.”
“It wasn’t though. Honestly, they should be thanking you just as much for all this. If you weren’t so hot, I never would have been in the lobby as often just hoping to look at you for a few extra seconds. I wouldn’t have overheard Mason on the phone talking about his party drug Fade. I wouldn’t have subconsciously thought about it while working on all my reports and thought there was some weird connection between all the random,” she used finger quotes around the word, “fatalities the past few months. I wouldn’t have gotten that gut feeling. I wouldn’t have been searching for some kind of clue. I wouldn’t—”
“You’re not going t’tell the head of major crimes that y’had a hunch simply because m’hot, are you?” He chuckled. She giggled because his cheeks turned a light shade of pink.
“Well, it’s what happened, Harry.”
“Your mind is brilliant.”
“Simple really,” she said knowingly. “The primal part of my brain was attracted to you like a bird in mating season and I just stared at you, for hours. Listening to conversations and people watching and I just so happened to catch a really lucky break.”
He shook his head, but the pink stain on his cheeks remained. “How did y’know Mason was in trouble last night?”
She shook her head. “More luck.”
Harry rolled his eyes and pressed his lips to her forehead. “Are you going to take any credit for saving his life?”
She shrugged one shoulder. “That conversation I overheard last week, when he bumped into me in the lobby and I fell. I went over to say sorry to him one more time before I left and I heard him say Fade, heard him mention something about going out with whoever was at the other end of the call last night. Coincidentally, Brooke said I needed to go to a spa and fade away into nothingness. It just clicked. All my research in desperation to figure out my gut feeling, inputting a goddamn word splash into Google looking for the combination of toxins and test results. I must have seen a hundred different party drug names. I probably read the name fade twenty times. It’s not even my job to figure it out because honestly it didn’t even connect to that many people it was just something that stuck with me. It was all a giant coincidence.”
Harry looked at her like he simply didn’t believe her. He looked at her like she was magic. “And I didn’t know if he was going to be awake, unconscious, or worse when I got there. I really didn’t. I just knew that if it was bad, I was going to need your AED kit again and I couldn’t take the risk of wasting time to run up and down four flights of stairs twice,” she explained. “But honestly? I should have figured it out sooner, but I hadn’t been sleeping well, and I was exhausted from the one hundred other things I’d been doing.”
He cupped her face in his hands like he had the night before. Like she might break. Harry kissed just above the bridge of her nose and lingered there for a moment. “You have no idea how special you are,” he said simply.
Maybe it was the lack of sleep or sudden surplus of sleep. Maybe it was finally getting all that pressing, scary, weight off her shoulders. Maybe it was knowing she finally had Harry all to herself. Whatever it was, his kind sentence had her eyes welling with tears almost instantly. Before any of them could spill over her cheeks, Harry tucked her into his chest, brushed his lips along her hairline and sighed deeply as he held her to him.
If they fell asleep again, that was okay. She was in desperate need of catching up quite a bit.
*
Harry texted her as often as he could while she was at her parents. When she returned, Harry met her in her apartment (with an actual key she gave him, not the one he used for work). Harry showed her immediately her new and improved bedroom. Complete with the quilt Harry’s grandma made that she really loved and told him in a half-dream state that she wanted to steal it.
He made her bed.
They broke the new mattress in by sleeping soundly (and only sleeping (and mixed with a bit of kissing)). Then both proceeded to work for the next four days. It was filled with hum-drum life again and Harry knew he was very grateful that there were no surprises for her. She came home and went for a run with Harry, and they ate grilled cheeses. But instead of separating themselves around her kitchen island, Harry stood between her knees as she sat on the counter, and they giggled about their days wiping crumbs off the corner of each other’s mouths.
They slept in her bed and Harry made sure she drank enough water and coffee in spades. Mr. Langley asked about the weather each morning. Mrs. Wentworth complained about her apartment and swore Niall was just getting paid to do nothing. Hailey and Sloane were quieter but hustled in and out with bags of designer makeup and clothes as always. Cameron waved and smiled at her as he continued on his way to the financial district and everything seemed calmer.
On her short shift day, she held her breath as she told Harry about how it seemed every short shift seemed more terrible than the last.
But when she arrived home, Harry smiled at her from behind the desk while he spoke with a delivery person in front of him.
She sent him a text. I’m just going to change; I’ll be right down.
The elevator pinged with its arrival and Mason stood there with a massive bouquet of flowers.
“Oh good, I’ve been trying to catch you,” he sighed with relief. She watched the elevator ascend almost instantly as he stepped to the side and grabbed her wrist at the same time. “These are for you,” he pushed the bouquet toward her.
“Mason, you didn’t need—”
He shook his head. “Don’t… just don’t,” he sighed heavily. “I was an absolute idiot, and you saved my life and flowers aren’t even close to enough,” he stuffed his hands in his pockets. “I’m getting help and I’m involved in the investigation as part of a lighter sentence.”
She swallowed. “I’m sorry,” she said softly.
“I’m grateful,” he nodded. “I… I know that Hailey has said some unkind things about your job and I don’t think I’ve ever corrected her and I do really wish that I hadn’t needed your help nor that you saw me naked like that and that I hadn’t thrown up all over you,” he looked at the floor and she frowned slightly at his embarrassment. “But I’m so glad you were there,” he shook his head. “It’s nice having a doctor in the building.”
She felt her face warm and she could feel Harry’s gaze boring into the side of her head from across the room. “Just doing my job.”
He smiled. “Thank God for that,” he leaned forward, kissed her cheek, and squeezed her arm. “Thank you,” he repeated, gratitude thick in his voice. “Harry’s a very lucky man,” he winked.
She hid part of her blushing face behind the huge bouquet. “Did everyone know?” She asked.
“I think Arthur asked if we knew anything and then it seemed so obvious,” he chuckled.
Gossip. She thought. “I’m the lucky one,” she said knowingly.
He chuckled. “Then Harry’s even luckier.” They both turned then and found Harry watching in fascination. Mason waved gently. “Just thanking your girl,” he wiggled his eyebrows.
Harry glanced at her nervously, like she was going to deny it. But he cleared his throat. “Nice flowers.”
“It’s hardly enough,” Mason chuckled awkwardly. “Thank you for your help too, Harry,” he held his hand out. “This place wouldn’t run without you.”
When Mason thanked her, she knew she could see it across the room—Harry was nervous or maybe jealous. Why, she didn’t know; it was abundantly clear to her that she was in love and obsessed with him and only him. But she knew instantly what Harry was thinking: she was more important than him. But as soon as Mason spoke about Harry’s importance, she couldn’t help but beam at him like that was more important than anything Mason had to say to her.
“Not a problem, Mr. Collins,” he nodded politely.
“Have a nice day, guys.”
“Have a nice day, Mason,” she answered and turned toward Harry with a grin.
“Nice flowers,” he murmured.
“You’re not jealous about flowers, hmm?” She hummed.
He shrugged a shoulder. “Only if you like the person who gave them to you.”
“I only like one person,” she reminded him.
He nodded. “Mr. Langley?”
She laughed, grabbed his hand and rested her head against his arm while they watched Mason leave. “Exactly.”
*
“Are you sure you want to be down here?” He asked quietly as he kissed along the edge of her face like he was outlining her with his lips for an art project. It was already a thousand degrees in his place, and she was worried she might explode and all he had done was kiss her so thoroughly.
“This is more special,” she confirmed.
“Your bed is a lot comfier than mine—”
She shook her head. “Your entire apartment is comfier than mine.”
He rolled his eyes. “Darling…” he sighed.
“It’ll be better if I scream that I’m not in between floors and stuff. No one comes down here.”
He snorted, but felt the blood rush to his face a bit at the insinuation. “Kitten, s’very unlikely m’going t’make you scream,” he rolled his eyes. “Maybe in pain.”
“It won’t hurt,” she shook her head. “You would never hurt me.”
He looked at her in that way that he often did; like she was precious and she might disappear if he moved the wrong way. “S’fair,” he smiled gently. “Just… try to keep your expectations low. I don’t think m’going t’be very good at it.”
“You? What about me? I’m terrified I’m going to just lay there like a dead starfish.”
He grinned feeling relieved that she felt the same way. “You’d be a very hot dead starfish if you did.”
“Shut up,” he chuckled at her. She took a deep breath. “Let’s just agree to be honest about how it feels and not worry about it being the best we’ll ever have.”
He cupped her face again and smiled at her. “Well, I don’t know about you, but it’ll be the best sex I’ve ever had.”
It was almost impossible not tokiss him again, so she did. It was like there was a magnet in their lips. After a few moments of gentle kissing, Harry shifted slightly, settling between her legs and trailing his hand along the side of her hip. She turned her face away from his mouth and breathlessly asked, “Did you feed Leech?”
“Yes, darling,” he kissed along her jaw. “Y’really worried about a cat right now?”
“I don’t want him to interrupt us.”
“Ahh,” he smiled. “You’re so smart, darling,” he cooed and attached his lips to hers once more. He moaned softly against her lips. “Y’taste so good,” he murmured. “Think I could spend forever kissing you.”
Her heart felt like it might beat right out of her body. Harry was unbelievably gentle and so good to her, they hadn’t even gotten to the actual sex part, and it already felt mind-blowing. It wouldn’t be that bad, right? Their kissing made her melt. It couldn’t be that bad. The way he kissed made her throb between her legs and it seemed like she wasn’t doing so bad either. Harry’s dick was hard against the apex of her thighs and all of that had to mean something.
“Can I take your clothes off?” He pulled away from her mouth and kissed along her jaw again. The kisses along her jaw and down the side of her neck might have been better than the actual kisses to her lips. They made her stomach flutter and the throbbing pulse harder.
“It’ll be hard to do the next part with them on,” she joked awkwardly.
He smiled against her throat. “M’nervous, too, darling. We don’t have to—” he murmured.
She shook her head quickly. “No, I want to. I really want to.”
He chuckled again. “Okay, okay,” he slid his fingers against the hem of her shirt and inched it up slowly.
She stopped him right before her shirt reached the bottom edge of her bra. “It’s just what if you think my body is gross once you see it? Or what if I’m actually really bad at it? Or we’re like incompatible or something we can’t control? Or what—”
“Kitten,” he released her shirt and cupped her face. “M’obsessed with your body exactly as it is. I’ll kiss every inch of it to prove it. You’re not going to be bad at it.”
“Even if I accidentally lay there like a dead starfish?”
“Even if you lay there like a hot dead starfish, yes… and y’won’t be bad it,” he shook his head. “You’re good at everything. As for compatibility…” he grabbed her hand and kissed her fingertips. The throbbing between her legs amplified up even more. Which seemed impossible. It was just kisses on her fingers. How was that making her even more turned on? “I think despite all my hangups, we are very compatible. Don’t you think?”
She blushed and ducked her eyes slightly despite the fact Harry was staring right at her. He was still kissing each of her fingers in turn and it was making her brain foggier by the second.
Harry really needed to be studied. “I know we’re compatible emotionally and stuff. I’m worried about the physical stuff. What if my body is just… not… right?”
“M’not sure you can tell but I think we’re going to be okay on that front,” he whispered gently and nudged his hips closer to her for more proof of how turned on he was. “Can I continue?” He asked leaving her hand alone again and returning back to her shirt. She nodded silently. Harry lifted the shirt over her head swiftly, so she wouldn’t have time to doubt herself. “Have I ever told you how lucky I am that you moved in?” He murmured as he dropped his lips to the swell of her breasts at the cup of her bra. He groaned softly as he placed somehow the most chaste and erotic gentle kisses against her skin.
Her breath caught in her throat and she shook her head. “No… I’m lucky.”
He shook his head as he slid his fingers into the waistband of her leggings and inched them down her thighs slowly. He hummed his disagreement. “No, darling. I was always going t’be here,” he reminded her. “You moving in,” he sighed as her leggings reached her knees. “S’incredible luck for me,” she helped him as much as she could to get her pants off the rest of the way and his hands skimmed along her thighs. “You’re beautiful, darling. Really, really beautiful,” he cupped one hand beneath her jaw and brought his lips back to hers which was fantastic for her. It had only been a few moments, but her lips felt neglected and she was aching all over for Harry and his lips on hers was the easiest way to soothe the ache.
“I think you have too many clothes,” she mumbled against his mouth.
He smiled, continued to kiss her softly as he pushed his pants down his body and out of the way. He pulled away briefly to get his shirt off and then he settled back to kissing her. His skin was warm against hers and it almost felt like it was too much. Like he was going to overheat her. His hands slid along her body making her shiver despite how warm he was. As he nudged himself between her thighs again, she thought this had to be heaven.
But then she realized as delicious as the weight of his body was, she realized he didn’t take just his pants off. She gasped and pushed him away. “I’m sorry,” he said hurriedly. “Did I—”
“You’re not wearing underwear,” she accused trying her hardest not to look down.
“Well, the next part is a little difficult with underwear on, so I hear,” he chuckled awkwardly. “Did I go to fast? Do you want to stop?”
It wasn’t any of that. It was hard to explain to Harry that she wasn’t expecting to feel his massive dick against her underwear before seeing it and she didn’t put all those pieces together in her kiss-addled brain. “No…I want to keep going, I just…”
“M’nervous too,” he nodded gently.
Probably not as nervous as she was. Did he even know his dick was huge? It was wildly unfair he was so hot and had no clue. “Just come here,” she reached for him again and silently told her body to relax. For a few moments they continued kissing and Harry’s hard dick rubbed against her underwear. She wondered if she would be more embarrassed if she was younger. Even though she knew neither of them had been with someone else, it seemed more mature this way: almost thirty and just trying their best.
“Can I touch you?” He whispered against her skin.
“You are touching me.”
He smirked and pressed a kiss to her temple. “Darling…”
So much for not being embarrassed. “Oh.”
“I’ve been doing some research, and I jus’ want t’make it so I won’t hurt you too much.”
“You’ve been doing research?”
“You don’t need a doctorate to do a bit of research, kitten.”
“What kind of research?” She asked.
“You really want me t’site my sources right now?”
She smiled sheepishly. “No, I just think it’s… sweet.”
“It was a lot of Cosmo.”
“Harry, clinically, biologically, scientifically, it might hurt a little for a bit… but it’ll feel good after.”
He looked pained already at the mere thought. “S’just unfair that it’s going t’be the best experience of my life and you’re going t’be in pain.”
She smiled again and laid back against the pillow. “It won’t be that bad, I promise. I might be a virgin, but I’ve had a good number of orgasms before… you’re not the first thing to be inside me,” she admitted.
He groaned. “Y’can’t say stuff like that if y’don’t want me t’ruin this first time… and you’ll have t’show me that another time.”
Was it a little awkward? Maybe. But it felt so normal and right with Harry. There were tens of times she wished she had gotten this out of the way over the last ten or so years, but it made it seem so much better knowing Harry was going to be kind to her.
Plus, she loved him. Loved the way he felt, how he made her feel, how he spoke, how he cared for her, the way he looked, and just everything about him. It was a little nerve-wracking but truly, there was no question this made the most sense and that it was well worth the wait. “It would actually make me feel so much better.”
“If I just finished before we started?” He asked.
“I mean… I think once we get this one out of the way, it’ll all be a lot easier.”
He sighed heavily. “I love you.”
“I thought that’s what all this that meant,” she wrinkled her nose as she giggled. He chuckled, rolled his eyes, and began with a kiss on her lips, then moved down her jaw, her throat, along the center of her sternum and continued down. Harry thought she was the prettiest thing he’d ever laid eyes on. “I love you too,” she said breathlessly.
“May I?” He murmured against her stomach and his finger barely hooked under the triangle of her underwear. She nodded, unable to speak.
Harry slid his finger beneath the fabric and once more she could feel the heat bloom all over her body. It made her a little embarrassed she was so turned on and all he had done was kiss her (really well, but still). He moaned softly. “S’nice, darling,” he whispered and slid his finger along her wet folds searching gently, blindly. “This is a bad idea for me,” he mumbled. “I really might finish before we get started.” She felt tongue tied but offered him a smile. “Y’feel so good,” he sounded like he was in a dream; entranced in how she felt. She gasped softly as his hand moved lower, his finger dipping just a little inside her. “That okay?” He asked
She nodded again, still afraid to speak.
“Tell me if it’s too much or y’need me t’move.”
She continued nodding. Harry’s fingers were long or maybe his hands were just big, but she was blessedly lucky that he could rotate his thumb so it would brush her clit which was the source of all the throbbing all while he gently toyed with her entrance. A soft moan left her before she could stop it. Harry leaned forward to kiss her gently again. “Softer,” she whispered against his mouth. His movements briefly stopped and he eased the pressure on her clit which made her gasp again.
“Like that?” He asked.
She nodded. “Can I touch you?” She asked; her voice was all air. Trying to get her brain to come to terms with the fact Harry Styles was touching her intimately and was naked and hot and all hers.
He shook his head. “M’afraid if you touch it, I’ll come all over you.”
“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” she smiled nervously.
He groaned. “Darling, please don’t tease me right now.”
“You’re one to talk,” she whispered again.
“Shh,” he hushed and pulled his fingers away. She frowned.
“Hey!”
“Soon, love. M’just afraid m’not going to last much longer,” he warned. With that understanding, she shimmied out of her underwear and bit the inside of her lip. “You’re so beautiful, darling.” He reached behind her and unclipped her bra and pulled it out of the way. Her face warmed again and Harry dropped his gaze briefly before returning to her eyes and pressed his lips on her again. “Really beautiful,” he repeated he pulled away and stood to the side of the bed. He grabbed the condom on the nightstand. She tried desperately to tell the part of her brain not to say anything about how maybe this wouldn’t hurt at all out loud. His dick was mouthwatering and that translated to more aching, throbbing wetness between her thighs.
Harry looked at her shyly as he made sure the pillows behind her were situated properly. “Do you see something y’like?” He teased.
“Don’t be mean. You’re very hot.”
“I was just thinking the same thing about you,” he kissed her again and knelt between her legs. “Ready?”
She nodded. “I love you.”
“I thought that’s what all this meant,” he grinned softly and rubbed the head of his dick along her center. She knew the condom was lubricated but she also knew she was soaking it just as much. Harry groaned and centered himself against her entrance. He tucked his face into her neck and kissed softly against her skin. Her heart pounded against his. “Relax for me, darling,” he whispered. She released the breath she didn’t know she was holding. Harry slipped an inch inside and she gasped. “You okay?” He asked.
“More,” she nodded. He pushed a little further. The sliding in wasn’t an issue. She was embarrassingly wet. All due to his kisses, his touches, and all the soft words he whispered against her skin. It was the stretch that ached a bit as she adjusted to his size. “Wait,” she breathed and closed her eyes because she knew it would look like pain and Harry would stop. She held him in place to keep him from stopping what had barely started.
“Darling,” he murmured. “I can—”
“Shh,” she hushed.
Harry kept his lower half still. He kissed the length of her neck and rubbed the outside of her hip with one hand while the other traced up and down the length of her torso. “Can I—”
“Just wait, please,” she begged quietly.
He nipped gently at her collarbone and cupped his hand around her so his thumb could brush gently over her nipple. She moaned, turning her face away from him again. “You can keep doing that,” she whispered.
Since Harry would do anything, she asked anyways, he was absolute putty to her request. He took his hand off her hip and mirrored his other hand and brushed both her nipples over and over. She whined softly at the back of her throat and Harry groaned. “Darling,” he sighed. “Y’feel so good.”
She grabbed his wrists and squeezed a little tighter. “More,” she begged.
Harry felt his dick throb inside her while he waited patiently (and desperately) for her to adjust to the feeling of him inside her. He brushed his mouth over her lips and ducked his head further, wrapping his lips around one of her nipples and flicked his tongue against the hardened tip of it. She moaned, arching slightly toward him more. She wished he could swallow her whole.
Part of her thought Harry wouldn’t mind that either.
“Darling,” he groaned against her chest, he kissed across to her neglected nipple and sucked and nipped at it the same way he did to the other one. “I think I’m gonna—”
She could feel the small pulse inside her from his throbbing dick. She nodded. “Okay, yeah.”
“Love,” he whispered. “I don’t want to—”
It was extremely unfair that Harry was going to finish and he’d barely done anything to her. He thought this had to be the worst first time in the history of ever. “I’m definitely a dead starfish,” she whispered to herself.
Harry chuckled, feeling the tension lower significantly at her joke. “You’re not a dead starfish, darling.”
“You’re doing everything.”
“Good, darling. You do everything all the time.”
She sighed heavily and dropped her head back onto the pillow while he continued playing with her nipples. She didn’t know she would enjoy that so much but at least it probably made Harry feel better.
Harry unceremoniously groaned, gently slid out of her (which made her gasp at the coldness she felt without him inside her any longer), and lowered his head. His mouth left a trail of warm, delicious kisses, all the way down her body and he pressed his mouth to the inside of her thigh. “Harry, I’ll taste like latex,” she warned and put her hands on her cheeks to keep them from combusting and ruining their first time further than she already had by being a dead starfish.
“I don’t care, I just have t’try…” he murmured into the softest, inner parts of her thighs, “…something before I come so fast. Even if it’s terrible.”
“Harry, I have barely touched your dick yet and that’s not fair to y—”
“Kitten, please I’m not kidding; I’ll ruin everything right now. Don’t talk about that. You can do whatever you want to me later I just have to make this a little good for you,” he explained. He grabbed one of her hands and put it at the back of his head. “Jus’ tell me if y’don’t like it,” he warned and dropped his head to where his dick had recently taken residence.
If her brain was functioning the way it was supposed to (the one that finished her bachelor’s and master’s degrees early so she could get a headstart on her doctorate) she would have recognized that the way he licked her nipples was going to be perfect for licking and sucking her aching clit.
She gasped. “Oh my God,” she covered her free hand over her mouth and tugged at his hair at the back of his head. It was a little too much because her nipples were not nearly as sensitive as her clit. “Softer,” she whispered.
Harry eased up instantly. He groaned against her which caused the vibration through his mouth, through her clit, find it’s way back to her nipples. She gently pushed his head lower removing his tongue from her clit and sinking between her folds. His jaw worked up and down as he practically devoured her and followed her gentle guidance. Harry’s tongue slid easily amongst the wetness. Briefly her mind wondered if this was his research or if he had actually done this before. If he had, she wasn’t sure she cared because this was alarmingly good. He worked his way back to her clit and she whimpered again.
There was a possibility her head was going through her pillow and the mattress, and she was never going to come out of the cushioning. It felt deliriously good to have his mouth on her like this. It was unexpected and she felt worse that she really was a dead starfish regardless of what he said. It was just like Harry to be good at something he’d never done before. Hot people had it so easy.
Harry groaned a little more as he licked the length of her again, sucked at her clit, and then moved to her inner thighs. “I can’t wait t’do this again,” he breathed into her skin. She uncovered her mouth and watched as Harry lined himself up with her center again. “M’sorry, love,” he whispered and slid inside once more. She gasped again. All the sensation was totally overwhelming. “Are you okay?” He asked kissing along the side of her face.
She nodded. “I love you,” she reminded him.
He kissed her softly again. “I love you, too.”
It felt a lot simpler with him inside her the second time around. He placed his hands at either side of her ribs and brushed his thumbs on her nipples again. She moaned and Harry answered with a groan. Slowly, he moved his hips to pull out and push in at an agonizingly good pace. It was very clear to her that he was using a ton of self-control to make sure she felt good while trying not to come just yet. She knew it was very unlikely she would have an orgasm the first time. The logistics were a little all over the place. (Although she was much closer with his mouth on her clit than she thought she’d be.)
But Harry was very clearly losing it. His face was tucked into her neck, and he was moaning and pausing quietly like he was practically in pain. He was using an unimaginable amount of restraint to keep from hurting her.
“I’m not going to break, Harry,” she whispered.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” his voice was as strained as his movements.
“You won’t, I’d really like you to come if you’d like to.”
He cupped her face again and kissed her deeply. Like the first time (and every time) he kissed her. His hands shifted down to her hips and the slight pinch of his fingers against her hips felt deliriously good. He thrusted a little harder. She whimpered and he moaned softly. “Fuck,” he whispered into her skin. “Did that—”
“Harry, just let go,” she whispered.
He groaned again, pinned her hips down, and thrusted again. The ache dulled to something resembling pleasure. The fullness of having Harry inside her was incredible. He thrusted again making her gasp again. And again, and again and again…
Then after a less timely thrust than the previous ones, his warm body sank against hers, like he was exhaling for the first time in ages. She felt his dick twitch inside her which was an odd sensation but one she kind of loved already. She scratched her fingers against his scalp. He kissed her neck for what felt like the millionth time (and it was still as good as the first). “I love you so much, darling,” he murmured quietly.
She smiled. “I love you too.”
“Can I try t’make y’come on my tongue, now?”
She blushed but giggled. “You’re crazy,” she shook her head. “We can wait until next time.”
“’Bout you, darling. But m’not letting y’go to sleep without an orgasm. So, I can try myself or y’can show me, but either way I need you to come,” he told her.
She sucked her lip into her mouth and gazed at his unbelievably pretty eyes and the way his mouth was smiling gently at her in an almost glowing kind of way. “It’s really not necessary—”
“No, but it is, darling,” he moved back from her, pulled and tied the condom off and tossed it aside before returning to her. “So, take your pick.”
“Um…” she blushed. “I think I need a lot of stimulation and whatnot,” she admitted. “I know that’s a little awkward but…”
“Show me,” he begged.
“Aren’t you tired?”
He shook his head. “Nope, not even a little. Are you tired? Or was it that bad that you don’t want to? I don’t want to force you to do anything you don’t—”
“No, no, no,” she shook her head quickly. “Everything was very enjoyable. I’m just… a little overwhelmed by the idea… and I don’t want you to have to—”
“Well, I think you liked this,” he cupped around her chest again so his thumb could brush over her nipple again. She gasped softly again at the contact. Harry dropped his other hand between her thighs and brushed his thumb over her clit in the same slow, gentle circle he did to her nipple. Maybe he was lying so she didn’t feel like a total idiot when she confessed she’d never had sex before. He couldn’t be this good at all of it.
Or maybe he really was just meant for her and implicitly knew her body and the way it was supposed to feel because he was her soulmate and there was nothing else like it. “Hmm,” he hummed. “Thought so, darling,” he pressed his lips against her temple.
“Harry,” she whispered. She grabbed his wrist and redirected his fingers to be lower than her clit. She replaced his thumb with her own two fingertips. Between all the licking and the way his dick felt inside her and not to mention how good he just made her feel anyway, she was unbelievably close to finishing all over his hand and she was vaguely aware of how wet she must have felt to him.
“S’good, love. So good,” his finger felt thick and warm and good inside her. He seemed to know exactly the speed she liked and worked in tandem with her fingers moving over her clit. A warmth spread low in her stomach and started ratcheting up higher as he thrusted his finger in and out gently, but firmly and so very perfectly. His other thumb continued rolling over her aching nipple. The ache felt like it still wasn’t enough for her and she wanted to almost cry with how badly she wanted him to grow another hand to touch her other nipple.
As if he could hear her mind, he traced his fingertips across her chest to the neglected one and rolled the hardened nub between his thumb and forefinger.
She whimpered almost against her own will. “You feel so good, kitten,” he pressed his lips over her mouth and softly brushed his tongue over hers.
It was too much. All at once, suddenly, as if she hadn’t been begging for it to happen. She cried out softly as the warmth in her built to be too much and snapped like a rubber band. She arched slightly into the touch of his fingers wrapped around his nipple and he dropped his head to the other one so he could suck on it while she whined nearly incoherently about how good she felt.
“So fucking good, darling,” he moaned quietly. He continued the gentle thrusts while her walls clamped down on his finger.
Once the wave of pleasure subsided slowly, she gently moved her hand away from herself, her breathing was a bit erratic as she pulled his thumb away from her nipple and he slowly removed his finger from within her. He kissed the center of her forehead and somehow after all they just did, that still made her feel like she was melting the most.
“That was pretty good for a first time,” she whispered.
He smiled. “Think it was, my pretty starfish,” he winked.
“Shut. Up.”
“Let me go get a cloth t’clean you up,” he kissed her again before moving off the bed. His dick was still hard (or maybe he had gotten hard again). He was so unbelievably hot, and it felt totally unfair that he was all hers. Finally. All the time spent staring at him from across the lobby. All the running and grilled cheeses. All the flirting and not flirting. All the touches and glances. All the sweet and helpful reminders that he adored her before they even got together.
He was all hers.
“Hey Harry?” She called softly as he grabbed the condom off the floor.
“Yes?”
She wrestled with the covers beneath her a bit until she was settled under them. “Today was a really nice day.”
He grinned. “Always is, when you’re around, Miss.”
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From Me/Warnings: angst, implied drug use/OD, medical emergency drama (like (an attempt at ) Grey's), and Mrs. Wentworth
Summary: “You shouldn’t be with me, Harry…” she sniffled again.
His frown deepened and he tilted his head. “Darling—”
“No,” she shook her head and wiped her eyes. “You shouldn’t call me that."
“Are you alright?”
Brooke had been almost too quiet. It was like she knew immediately. But it was kind of her to ask anyway. She looked up at her as she examined the next component on the checklist in her mind and then turned back to the body in front of her.
No, she wasn’t alright. She was tired. The new bed she ordered was delayed again. It felt like a joke. She felt like a joke. The feeling in the pit of her stomach wouldn’t go away. She was trying to distance herself emotionally from Harry and it felt like they were in a fight. There was a court case she was dreading tomorrow because of the feeling in her stomach. The tutoring was all fine and dandy, but she knew she had to read her brother’s lab report when she got home, and her sister wanted her opinion on what to wear to graduation this weekend and it felt like it was just all too much.
On top of that she was almost certain she had a nail in her tire (because of course there was) and she wasn’t sure how she was going to get that fixed between now and when she left for her sister’s graduation on Friday.
There was also a possibility she was getting a cold—or her allergies were finally making themselves known for the spring season. But she felt like the pressure in her sinuses wouldn’t go away.
“Lieutenant Davis is here,” Benny called.
She squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath.
It was way too much. “I’ll be one minute, just send him to my office.”
“You need a spa day,” Brooke mumbled.
She remembered the last time she went to the spa. It was a terrible day. Felt eerily similar to her current day. “No time,” she mumbled. “I’m going to my parents for a few days to help them get ready for my sister’s graduation party.”
“Sounds like a perfect time to go to the spa. Fade into nothingness in a hot tub, wouldn’t that be lovely? Maybe you could bring Harry,” she grinned.
“I don’t know if… if that’s a good idea,” she stated quietly as she focused on her next checklist item.
She was actually pretty confident that Brooke’s idea was brilliant. But with how much she was distancing herself, it wasn’t an option. Hopefully Harry would just forget all about her. Brooke gasped. “You’re joking.” She didn’t say anything to her friend. She was being rude and cranky. Maybe that was Mrs. Wentworth’s problem. Too much in her life all at once. If it was the problem, she understood, finally. “Girl,” she was still in shock. “Please tell me you’re lying.”
“I have stuff to do, Brooke,” she put her tools down, tugged her mask off, and snapped the gloves off her hands into the trash. She used the hand sanitizer dispenser by the door and then tugged the hair tie out of her bun.
“Like going to the spa with Harry?” Her friend mumbled while finishing the report on the tablet for the last bit of stuff she’d gone over.
Did she really want to be friends with Brooke? “We can talk about it later. Maybe…”
“Oh, I plan on it,” she nodded to herself.
She rolled her eyes. Headed down the hall toward her office inspecting her cuticles as she went. A spa day would be nice. Really nice, actually. Maybe she could ask Raleigh what he could do for her in an hour. She needed to pack and get recipes gathered. Despite how much better it would be to be with Harry, she needed to keep her mind occupied away from him and—
She stopped in the hall back to her office like she bumped into someone even though she was the only one in the hall. She swiftly returned to the room she left Brooke in standing in the doorway but felt like her body wasn’t really hers. “What did you say?”
Brooke glanced at her and shook her head. “Nothing?”
“Earlier.”
Brooke looked up at her, her eyebrows furrowed together. “About what?”
“The spa,” was the earth moving? The room might have been spinning. Or were her legs giving out?
“That… that you should fade into nothingness? Like did you even go to the spa last time? You need a class in relaxation—what’s wrong? Why do you look like—where are you going?! Hey…! What about Davis?” Brooke was following after her but she simply wasn’t fast enough.
She ran to her locker at the back of the building and tapped the buttons for her lock code as fast as humanly possible. She opened the locker, grabbed her keys and nothing else; not her license, not her wallet, not her coat. She even left it open before she bolted out the building as well.
Her car was barely in drive before she peeled out of the parking lot. She swore she ran a red light, maybe two and there was a very good chance she was ruining the rim of her flattening tire. At a red light halfway down the street from Kingsley Place, there were simply too many cars between where she was and where she needed to be. Perhaps the city was finally filling the pothole that definitely would have ruined her tire in another few days if it wasn’t for the nail.
She pulled to the side of the road and parked before running the rest of the block to her apartment building. She didn’t look to check, but she was pretty sure she’d left her driver’s door open and from the sound of the horns beeping it was fairly good confirmation. At least whoever stole her car, wouldn’t get far on a flat tire.
She was out of breath as she entered the lobby and sprinted for the office behind the desk. She smacked the door open without warning. Harry nearly fell out of his chair, tossing some of the papers he had on his desk into the air along with the pen he was holding went flying across the small room. “Jesus!” He shouted. She didn’t even say anything as she yanked the AED box off the wall. She was vaguely aware that some of the wall plaster came with it. “Are you—”
“Give me your key!” She had to have looked like a lunatic. Her hand outstretched, her breathing erratic. It was probably illegal for her to have access to anyone’s apartment. She was in love with Harry but didn’t have the same privileges and she shouldn’t regardless of how much she loved him. With her luck, she’d get him fired. But Harry merely blinked once, overwhelmed by her urgency, and grabbed the keys off the hook behind him, and dropped his keyring into her hand.
“Is everything—” but he didn’t get the full question out before she was running out to the lobby again. Harry was still back by his desk, stuttering and confused while she waited for the elevator to come down from the ninth floor. She tapped her foot impatiently, breathing hard and she pulled her phone from her pocket. She ignored the simultaneous calls from Brooke and the lieutenant.
“Young lady, you’ve left a trail of some kind of mess—”
Mrs. Wentworth was her last straw. “Oh my God, SHUT UP! Just shut UP!” She was not proud of how she sounded. But the elevator stopped on the sixth floor for a moment longer than she would have liked, and she bolted for the staircase leaving Mrs. Wentworth to huff and about the mess she wasn’t sure she was actually leaving in the lobby.
Instead of answering the lieutenant’s call (for the fifth time) she dialed the emergency number and rushed through the introductions to the dispatcher at the other end. It was a huge déjà vu moment and for someone who often felt she wasn’t like a real doctor, there was no stopping her once she started.
“Hey! What’s wrong—” Harry was, for once, running behind her.
She spoke the address of Kingsley Place into her phone and was fortunate she got the words “fourth floor” out of her mouth before her toe almost got caught on the edge of one of the steps. Fortunately, she stopped herself before smashing her face into one of the next steps. It did make her lose her phone, however, but she didn’t need it anymore now that dispatch had been warned.
“Darling, can you—?”
But as much as she loved Harry and wanted to have it all out with him again, she couldn’t wait a second longer than she already had. Worry filled her so much it was honestly a miracle she could even remember all the stuff in her head. She slammed into the door for the fourth floor she was shocked it didn’t come off its hinges. Without breaking stride, she continued her sprint down the hall nearly falling again as she skidded to a stop in front of the door labeled G.
Her hands were shaking ferociously; she had to steady one with the other and still barely managed to shove Harry’s master key into the lock and push her way inside. At some point in time, she learned all five senses would be super useful to assessing any medical situation she encountered. But all of her senses were overpowered by the music blaring through the apartment. How no one had reported a sound violation to Harry was a mystery to her. Or the soundproofing was far more superior than she thought and it was just another thing about Mrs. Wentworth that she would love to argue about if she was a meaner person.
Other than the slight pause at the sound of the overpowering music, she rushed through the different rooms of the apartment. “Can you tell me what—” Poor Harry hadn’t asked a full question since she barged into his office. Without pausing to let him finish that one either, she shoved the bathroom door open of the master bedroom once she heard the sound of water running over the music.
An unconscious Mason in a half-state of undress (and the part that was dressed was fully soaked) was on the floor in front of her. The water was still running, overflowing from the tub. It was probably moments away from being an issue in the apartment below, but who knew if that would have been enough either?
There was a cut on his head from where he had fallen into the haphazard position he laid on the ground. His towel rack was pulled from the wall with more sheetrock just like Harry’s office; telling the story about what had happened to him without needing any verbal explanation. “Shit,” Harry whispered behind her and then moved around them to get to the water nozzle.
She placed the AED box on the counter and started to drag Mason under his arms across the wet tiles and soaked bathmats. Her sneakers squeaked as she moved his heavy leadened weight and she grunted with effort. “Here,” Harry helped to grab under his arms as she had and since Harry was much stronger, they pulled Mason to his bedroom with much more ease.
She grabbed the AED box, flicked it open, and grabbed the small white nasal sprays from the box and turned back to Mason hurriedly. Harry pulled a blanket off the bed and covered him for some decency. “Hey!” She shouted at his unconscious form. “Turn the music off,” she directed to Harry. He hurried out of the room. “Mason!?” She rubbed the center of his chest with her knuckles, checked his pulse, lifted his eyelid to check his pupils. She checked for any sign of life before she put the tip of the spray nozzle into his nose and pushed the plunger.
She looked at her watch and scooted back just in case. “Is he—” Poor Harry couldn’t get a single question out today.
Mason practically sat straight up, as his consciousness returned. He gasped and spluttered, drooling and looking around trying to figure out what happened.
She sighed with relief, but her heartrate and adrenaline continued so it wasn’t that much relief. “Hey, it’s okay,” she said soothingly and grabbed his arm. “Lie down,” she turned his head gently to the side just in case he threw up.
Which was good because then he did, in fact, throw up.
“Holy shit,” Harry whispered.
Mason was blinking and moaning.
“Mason?!” It was Hailey’s voice. “There’s water leaking into Sloane’s apart—”
“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” she groaned and pinched the bridge of her nose.
“What the hell happened—” Hailey and Sloane gasped again almost in unison as they joined her and Harry in Mason’s bedroom.
“Get. Out,” she snarled at the girls in the doorway. “And whatever pills you have, dump them,” she snapped.
“Oh my God,” Sloane whispered.
“Harry, can you get EMS up here?” She asked without looking at him. After the sound of heels disappeared, she heard Harry’s footsteps disappear as well. “Do you remember what you took, Mason?”
He mumbled something half coherently and she tugged the blanket off him to cover where he’d gotten sick. It felt a little stupid, perhaps, but she wanted to keep his face out of his own vomit while he lay there in pain. “Doc, a little warning next time,” Lieutenant Davis stated a bit breathless as he entered the room.
“Sorry, I figured it was… pressing.”
“I’ll say,” he chuckled without humor. “Mr. Collins,” Lieutenant Davis greeted as the medics began prepping him for a transfer to a gurney. They checked vitals and discussed his current state as she explained as much as she could from her perspective. “I’m Lieutenant Davis. It’s not very often my favorite medical examiner gets to work on patients before they get to her office. You’re an extremely lucky man,” he took the small notebook out of his front pocket and the pen in his other pocket. “Want to tell me what you took?”
All eyes in the room turned to him. The medics paused as they got Mason on the gurney and properly covered him. He cleared his throat as they strapped him into place and began hooking up the proper mechanisms for his trip to the hospital. Harry helped her stand on her feet. He was gazing at her with a million emotions running through his mind: shock, yes. But even she could recognize it was most entirely, complete and total awe. “I uh…” Mason started, cleared his throat again and looked down at his hands in his lap.
“It’s a lot better for you legally if you start telling me what you know now,” Davis reminded him.
He cleared his throat again. Looked at her, the lieutenant, and back again. “Thank you… really. I don’t…I don’t know what to say,” he mumbled.
She took a deep breath and looked at him pleadingly. The familiar feeling in her body for the last few months, the word on the tip of her tongue. It was right in front of her. “Tell him,” she tilted her head toward Davis.
He nodded. Swallowed hard. Closed his eyes. “It’s called Fade.”
*
Harry was waiting in the lobby in regular clothes, and he didn’t give a fuck who saw him. If they didn’t know he was in love with her now, they were going to. He was sick of her not sleeping in a bed. His bed. When she was wrapped in his blankets and arms that was the best sleep for him and he truly believed it might be best for her too.
Harry hardly got to speak a word to her after Mason left. She was needed at the station. Then needed to go gather all the reports she had that gave her the feeling in the pit of her stomach for the last few months. He only got to hear bits and pieces as Davis and she walked back down. I was doing some research… about different combinations... It’s an old party drug… Mason was talking… he said fade and… then Brooke…
It didn’t matter. Not really. When they got to the main entrance, Davis headed to his car, and she and Harry stood at the door awkwardly. He opened his mouth to say something, but she crossed her arms around herself and then looked at the floor. “Sorry about the mess,” she mumbled to Harry.
“Darling—”
“I’ve gotta go,” she jerked her thumb toward the door. “Have a nice night, Harry.”
So, Harry bit his tongue and kept his thoughts to himself. Mostly because it was really necessary that she had to leave to deal with all the legal things.
It worked out alright for the time being. But he was anxiously awaiting her turn before she even left the curbside.
Harry had to clean Mason’s watery mess. Then, even though he really didn’t want to, he went to check on the ceiling (and technically the girls) in the apartment below. It was a couple hours before Harry could go to the office and take mental stock of what happened. He placed the paperwork he would need to file later on and wrote down a new list that Niall would have to tackle. By the time he finished all of that she still hadn’t returned.
Harry scrolled uselessly on his phone for another hour before the battery percentage mocked him. He was terrified to leave the lobby for a moment and miss her, but he ran down to his place to grab his phone charger and then left it in the office. After that he stared at the ceiling, the floor, the paint that was chipping in the corner of the lobby, the plants that needed more water, and few burnt out lightbulbs in the chandelier over the center of the room. He tapped his foot impatiently as another hour passed.
Finally, the main door opened. She had her bag on her shoulder. Her keys dangled in her hand. Harry overheard Davis tell her on their way out with the medics that her car was being brought to the station by one of the other cops. Davis cashed in a favor to their on-call mechanic for the station’s vehicles to get the tire replaced.
“Darling,” he stood as she approached the elevator.
“Harry, I’m exhausted. I just want to go to bed,” she murmured. They both stepped on the elevator and Harry pressed the bottom floor before she could hit the twelfth. “Stop it,” her voice cracked.
“Kitten,” he grabbed her arm gently as she reached for the open-door button.
“Harry.”
“Please,” he begged. “I don’t know what happened.”
“I’ve had a really long day.”
“I know—”
“So, I just want to go to sleep.”
The elevator descended and then she hit the twelfth floor. He closed his eyes.
“Darling, please,” he whispered, not moving as the door opened then closed again once they were in the basement and neither of them made a move to get off.
As it started to ascend for her floor, he pressed the button for the basement again.
“Harry,” she sighed heavily.
Was he really going to prevent her from getting off the lift when they arrived? He wasn’t really sure. It was very possible. He was a little unsure of his own thought process but knew he had to talk to her. No matter what it took. She pressed the button for the fifth floor.
Was she going to walk up the rest of the way just so she wouldn’t have to talk to him?
He put his hand on the door-close button so it wouldn’t let her off and he stood in front of the door.
So yes, apparently, he really wasn’t going to let her off.
“Harry!”
“Jus’ talk t’me, darling. Please,” he begged.
She pressed the open-door button and kept pressing it as they approached the fifth floor and the gears shifted behind the metal to open. But apparently, Harry had the magic touch and it didn’t open. She tapped the button repeatedly and she practically whimpered as the machinery protested. “Harry, I can’t—”
The elevator jolted hard, knocking their hands away from the button panel. She nearly tripped into the wall, but Harry grabbed her arm gently. A buzzer sounded from inside the walls of the elevator and she pressed her lips into a line. “You have got to be kidding me,” she whined and didn’t care how melodramatic she sounded or looked (for which Harry was very grateful—she deserved it).
She slid against the wall and sat on the floor. She pressed her forehead to her knees tucked up to her chest. “My phone’s still in the stairwell,” she mumbled into the knee of her scrubs.
Harry thought about his phone charging in the office in the lobby. He bit the inside of his cheek and pressed the button for emergencies on the button panel. He gave an explanation and details to the little speaker. They assured him someone would be there soon.
He sat back against the wall beside her, so together they formed a corner. For a few moments they sat in silence. But she sniffled a little too loudly, and it simply broke Harry’s heart. “Darling,” Harry whispered.
“You shouldn’t be with me, Harry…” she sniffled again.
His frown deepened and he tilted his head. “Darling—”
“No,” she shook her head and wiped her eyes. “You shouldn’t call me that, it’s… I don’t…” she took a heaving breath. “I’m so much work Harry. And I never stop and you don’t need that and I’m so tired. I just want to sleep in my own bed.”
“You’re not too much work,” he murmured. He put his hand on her knee slowly—a little like she was a wild animal, and he wasn’t sure if she’d bite him. Fortunately, she didn’t. And she didn’t pull away either.
“I really didn’t know Uncle Henry that well. He left me this apartment without explanation. I have no idea why. I’m so grateful. I just want to help as much as I can. I don’t know how else to repay it.”
“You don’t owe anybody anything,” Harry murmured.
“But I do. This place is so fancy and I don’t deserve it. You should have it Harry, really. You work so incredibly hard and you make everyone’s life easier. All I do is bring about bad news after bad news. I suck. I’m a waste. I have all these brains and for what? To tell people that their loved one died of old age? Or a disease that I have no way to cure took them away too soon? That a gunshot wound made them bleed out? A car accident broke their neck? I’m a monster, Harry. A scary monster that children would beg their parents to check under the bed before going to sleep. I ruin people’s days. It’s why I can’t talk about my job, and I just feel like there’s this part of me that I hide all the time. I shouldn’t be called a doctor. Hailey’s right. Doctors help and swear to bring no harm. I don’t even see the people that get the news I deliver. I hide in a morgue and let someone else tell them the bad news. I’m a monster.”
Harry didn’t know how to fix all of that. He didn’t know how she could believe all that after what she did for Mason this evening. “You don’t ruin mine,” he reminded her very quietly.
She sniffled. “I’ve made your life hell since I moved in.”
He shook his head. He couldn’t listen to her like this. “Darling, stop. No, you haven’t.”
“I have. I made you move boxes. I ruined my floors. Mrs. Wentworth—”
“Kitten, Mrs. Wentworth is not the bar you should be comparing yourself to. Please stop.”
“I stayed in the lobby too long. I inserted myself into your office and your apartment. I’m a creepy lonely woman. I basically stalked you.”
He snorted at her exaggeration. “M’honored, darling. Are you done yet?”
“I have done nothing but make your life hell, Harry Styles. Your life was so much better when I wasn’t around.”
“Are you done now?”
“We’re stuck on this elevator because of me. And you can’t even escape my breakdown because we’re trapped and there’s a really good chance no one would look for me because I have done such a good job at making sure people don’t worry about me my entire life. I went to school and worked. I was a pleasure to have in class, and I was used as a physical barrier to separate the bad kids’ seats in elementary school. My parents had me help my siblings with everything. No one ever worried about me because I was going to be fine. Because I’m always fine.”
“Darling, are you done, now?” He asked again.
She swallowed, nodded and pressed her lips together. Harry gently pushed her knees down so he could straddle her legs. He kept most of his weight off her legs but wanted a good look into her eyes. He gently cupped either side of her face and brushed his thumbs on her red-swollen cheeks. She tried to look anywhere but Harry but given the position, it was just about impossible.
He kissed her forehead softly, letting his lips press gently into her skin like all the adoration he had for her would permeate through her skin and skull and into that beautiful brain of hers that had no idea how ridiculous she sounded. After he pulled away, her lower lip quivered and more tears filled her pretty eyes. He brushed his thumb over her lower lip trying to stop it from shaking. “You’d be the first person I’d call if I was downstairs on duty right now.”
She snorted.
“I don’t think you understand,” he stared deeply into her eyes. Harry was so in awe of her, it felt like a horrible time to do all this, but when would there be a good time? He should have told her a hundred times by now. He just hoped that in that beautifully dense brain of hers, she would understand what he was saying because it seemed awfully hard for this beautiful, intelligent woman to understand something so very simple.
“I love you, darling. I loved you from the moment y’told Mrs. Wentworth off that first day and told her I didn’t steal money from her. I’ve loved you every single morning when you brought me coffee or a treat. I’ve loved you while y’sat in the lobby and did nothing. I love that y’feed Leech and y’don’t mind that my apartment is small. I love that y’try t’fix stuff on your own even though y’could have Niall do it. I love that y’treat everyone so nicely—people who don’t deserve your niceness. I love that you’re you. I love your job and I don’t think you’re a monster. I think y’give people closure even though y’never speak t’them. I love that you’re brilliant. I love that you saved Aurelia’s life. I love that you saved Mason’s life. I love that you love Arthur and you even gave Mrs. Wentworth those shoe inserts. I’m sorry you’re having a bad day. But you’re not a monster. You’ve made my days so nice every single day since you’ve been here. There's no way y’could be a monster.”
For several seconds, she was silent, her lip still wobbled and Harry thought she was adorably sweet. “You… you love me?” She whispered.
He smirked at her sadly. “Was it something I said that made you think that?”
She closed her eyes and turned slightly from his gaze. “But…”
“But what, darling? You’re…” he shook his head, turning her face back to look at her. “You’re the coolest person I know.”
“But I have a really weird job and I…” she took a deep breath. “I think I’m invisible.”
“How could you possibly think you’re invisible when m’around, darling? You’re all I see. M’constantly waiting for you t’come back or come down and I think ‘bout you every second you’re gone. M’an absolute mess over you.”
The expression on her face crumpled into a frown and tears. She turned her face away from him and tears spilled rapidly over her lash line and down her cheeks. Harry moved beside her, gently tugged her until she was sitting in his lap and he cradled her because it felt like no one had ever cared for her the way she cared for others. “No one’s ever looked for me,” she whispered.
“M’not sure how that’s possible, darling. But it could never be me,” he kissed her temple and gently rocked her. He could faintly hear sirens and could hear some banging below coming from the elevator control room.
“I love you too, Harry,” she whispered after a few minutes of crying into his chest. “So much.”
He smiled, his heart pounding and spreading warmth throughout his body, “Good,” he nosed softly at her cheek. “Was beginning to think it was in m’head.”
She giggled tearily and lifted her face from his chest to meet his gaze. “I think you’re stuck with me,” she warned, her eyebrows pulling inward just a bit; like she was embarrassed by the fact.
He chuckled, brushed his thumb across her lip. “There is no one I’d rather be stuck with, darling,” he assured her and kissed her softly, finally. After what felt like ages. “Will you please sleep in m’bed tonight?” He asked. He couldn’t take another night without her, but perhaps more importantly, worrying about her neck and back.
She grinned. “Only if you want me to,” she giggled.
He chuckled. “Darling, please,” he shook his head in semi-disbelief. Then softer, with a sad smile on his face, he pushed a piece of her hair behind her ear. “M’sorry y’didn’t have a good day,” he whispered.
“All my days with you are quite nice, Harry,” she nodded gently, inching closer to his lips until they kissed again.
If they kissed until the firemen arrived to retrieve them, then that was between them and the elevator walls.
--
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From Me/Warnings: Tiny bit of a filler episode but. I noticed a lot of the previous parts were heavy on Harry’s POV so I wanted to even the score a little bit. (Especially knowing Part VII is pretty heavily Harry’s POV as well) which truthfully I don’t mind at all/love writing BUT. There is a tiny bit of Harry’s POV, hopefully it’s not too distracting that it’s so uneven. Warnings: vomit and some minor scrapes and cuts
Summary: He may as well have undressed her right there in entryway of Kingsley Place. Her stomach was competing with her heart to do as many backflips as possible. They could have had their own spots in the Olympics.
Harry was standing at the main door when she returned to Kingsley Place. She was pretty good at imagining things when it came to Harry these days. It was almost akin to coming home to him and being greeted by a doting husband.
Her cheeks warmed at the sight of his sweet half smile. “Good morning.”
“Hi Harry.”
“Y’look a lot more rested this morning, how are y’feeling?” He asked.
Her heart was doing backflips as he gazed at her. So, she was fine but overwhelmed still. “Much better, thank you. They were doing some special and I got to go to the spa for free,” she glanced at the ground. “I’ve never done that before,” she scuffed her shoe against the sidewalk. “It felt really extravagant and lavish. It was nice. I cried,” she admitted and she could feel more tears filling her eyes at the memory and just how overwhelmed she was yesterday.
The small smile stayed in place on his undeniably pretty mouth. “S’nice, darling. Y’deserved it. How did y’sleep?”
“Really good,” she nodded. “If I was able to carry it, I would have stolen that bed right from the hotel.”
He chuckled quietly under his breath. “Noted,” he nodded. “I called your mattress company and told them t’refund you immediately. Will y’keep an eye on y’statement t’make sure it happens?”
Her jaw fell slack. “You did?”
“Yeah, I know I probably shouldn’t, but I throw around some of the names around here,” he shrugged and looked away sheepishly. “I know Arthur wouldn’t mind,” he explained. “If y’have any problems ordering a new bed let me know.”
It felt intimate in a way she couldn’t describe. Maybe because it was a bed and it was inherently an intimate thing. After her visit to the spa, she lied on that luxurious mattress and thought about Harry in a way that she definitely shouldn’t have. Was it extra warm out today? She thought to herself. Hopefully her face wasn’t as red as it felt. “Thank you, that was very kind of you. I’ve been putting that off for way too long.”
“Happy t’help,” he nodded softly. “Let me know when y’order a new mattress so I can make sure s’delivered on time,” he looked at her pointedly. “Y’should’ve said something when y’moved in,” he reminded her.
She almost felt like she was in trouble. Disappointing Harry made her stomach knot uneasily. “Sorry,” she looked away embarrassedly. “It just didn’t seem like a big deal at the time, and I got so tired and overwhelmed settling in and getting routines—”
“S’quite literally part of m’job, love,” he stated. That simply didn’t seem true, but she wasn’t going to argue with him because she rather enjoyed the way he took charge of things and took care of something for her.
“Have you heard from Aurelia and her mother?” She asked. “I realized as I was falling asleep, I didn’t even follow up—”
He shook his head to interrupt her. “Mrs. Higgins and Aurelia are fine,” he assured her. “They came back late last night. I’m sure they’ll be by to thank you themselves.”
She felt warmth flooding her cheeks again and she shifted her bag on her shoulder. For a one-night stay, she sure knew how to pack a lot of stuff. Or maybe it was all the free samples that Raleigh gave her at the spa. It seemed like a crazy waste of resources even if there was some promotion. No way was it sustainable for multiple guests. But it really did make her shitty day so much better getting the luxurious spa treatment. The samples were a sweet bonus.
Harry’s eyes dropped to the bag strap, and he reached for it at the same time as she settled it on her other shoulder. His fingers brushed her collarbone as he took hold of it, then he slid the strap down her arm. He grabbed the door almost in the same movement and tilted his head for her to enter. “After you.”
He may as well have undressed her right there in entryway of Kingsley Place. Her stomach was competing with her heart to do as many backflips as possible. They could have had their own spots in the Olympics. She moved past him and bit the inside of her lip. They quietly walked through the silent lobby. No excitement compared to the day before. Harry pressed the elevator button and waited patiently for its arrival. “Are you going for a run tonight?” She asked once it arrived. Practically blurted it. She felt unbelievably awkward with the silence as comfortable as it was. Maybe because she worried she was going to beg Harry to kiss her or something. She stepped on the elevator and Harry joined her, still holding her bag and pressing the number 12 button.
“As long as the rain holds out. D’you want me t’wait for you?”
“If you don’t mind.”
“I don’t,” he answered quickly.
She felt a relieved smile spread across her lips and she nodded again. “Okay, I’ll be ready at the usual time?” She asked. Did Harry have even the smallest concept of how much she liked a usual anything with him?
“Sounds good, darling.”
Good God, she was going to melt into a puddle on the floor of the elevator and Mrs. Wentworth would probably call for her execution. Harry pressed his hand to the elevator door sliding within the wall and gestured for her to exit. She took the keys from her raincoat pocket and unlocked her door. Harry pushed the door open and set her bag inside the entryway before stepping back from her apartment. “Do y’want me t’send coffee up? Or do you need anything else?” He asked.
She shook her head. “I’m good, Harry. Thank you,” she said gratefully.
“Of course. Have a nice day, Miss. See you later.”
“Have a nice day, Harry.”
*
Harry was in the lobby, but he was sitting in the seat near the fireplace that she quite honestly designated as her seat. Which made no sense at all, but she couldn’t help it. She also couldn’t help Harry looked undeniably hot sitting there and she was thinking of all the things she shouldn’t when she was about to spend at least forty-five minutes running around their city with him. It was warmer today since spring was approaching quickly. He had bright red shorts on and a long-sleeved black shirt that looked like it would wick all the sweat away.
It was the first time she’d seen his thighs ever and she realized her imagination that ran wild in her hotel bed the night before didn’t compare to reality. There was this small voice in her head that sounded downright deranged, begging her to bite his thigh. “Hi,” she greeted. He smiled, his signature half-grin and stood up from his seat.
“Hi,” he answered. “Y’have a nice day?”
“Got caught up on a few things.”
“Did y’look for a new mattress?” He asked.
She felt guilty she hadn’t; it didn’t even cross her mind because she was trying to catch up on all the other little plans and things she needed to get done. She was planning a visit to her family, and it was exhausting just thinking about it and maybe a bed would help. “I’m still comparing some options,” she explained fibbing only slightly. It wasn’t a bad lie or an over-the-top one. It was kind of true. She just didn’t have a lot to compare. “I have to call the hotel and ask what kind of bed they have.”
He chuckled. “I can find out for you. If y’want.”
She felt her body throb all over. It was a simple favor, a small offer and it still made her entire body freak out. But Harry already did so much for her, and she didn’t know if she could ever repay him for how nice he was to her and asking him to do one more thing might make her a little insane. “I can do it,” she swallowed. “I appreciate it.”
They walked toward the exit and Harry held the door open for her. She wondered if he got tired of doing that or if he would have done it whether he was the doorman or not. (She kind of figured he’d do it anyway but still.) They jogged slowly at first as they always did. Harry often ran ahead of her because he was better and faster than her. She looked opposite of him today, long pants and a sleeveless tank top. Even if spring was approaching and it was much warmer than it had been, the pressure of the cold air felt good on her arms. She tried not to breathe like she was dying as she listened to Harry’s steady footfalls ahead of her.
She also tried not to stare at his cute butt the entire time, but she was only human.
Harry slowed just a bit and she wondered what for. But swiftly without breaking stride, he pulled his shirt over his head. The muscles in his back contracted with the movement and the deranged little voice in her head asked her to not only bite his thigh (and biceps and calves) but now it asked to lick up and down his sweaty spine.
So of course she tripped.
She skidded ungracefully and she was so thankful that Harry was in front of her and didn’t witness her fall. Like a child, the knee of her pants ripped a bit. She got matching scrapes on her kneecaps and palms from the sidewalk as she caught herself. “Fuck,” she whispered gasping at the sting in her skin.
“Are you alright?” Harry turned back quickly from a few paces ahead of her, probably hearing her missteps and subsequent fall.
As he turned back for her, she realized it was actually really good that she had fallen before he turned around. It was very probable that she would have fallen into the street then hit by a car or something, if she had witnessed the front of his body beneath his shirt before she saw his back. This was the least of the two injuries she could have suffered, for sure.
Her mind went blank for a moment as she tried to process what Harry was asking her. She most certainly was not alright. How could she be? His abs and tattoos were on full display, and it was wildly unfair that all that was hiding under his black shirts and suits all day every day. Was she drooling? It was possible. “Darling?” He asked crouching in front of her. His eyebrows pinched together in worry, and he was still breathing a little unevenly from the whole exercise thing.
Meanwhile her lack of air had nothing to do with running. Well, not her running. She caught sight of the sweat that rolled down his body. She swore she saw a droplet travel over each ridge of his individual ab muscles like water flowing over freshly dug trenches in a garden bed. She blinked and shook her head. “I’m alright,” she said quickly. “Just tripped like an idiot,” she looked away embarrassed. Also, she needed a reprieve from how hot he looked because the deranged little voice in her head was starting to sound an awful lot like her own inner monologue voice. “I think I’ll head back and clean up my scrapes,” she smiled awkwardly. “But you should finish your run,” she bit her lip. “Sorry to interrupt as is.”
He stood up and reached for her hands at the same time helping her to her feet carefully avoiding the scrapes on her skin. “Lemme see,” he murmured and cradled one hand in his palm up. He inspected it quickly, then softly brushed his discarded shirt over her hand ridding it of any large dirt particles. Without asking, he did the same with her other hand; carefully cradled it in his and brushed his shirt over it.
Good God.
Harry leaned down a bit and brushed her knees as well. He stood to his full height and tilted his head in the direction they came. “Let’s head back then and get y’cleaned up.”
Since Harry’s body clearly was some sort of personal torture device, she made some insane sound. A cross between a scoff, a snort, and a gasp. “Harry, I don’t want to—”
“S’okay,” he shrugged. “We can jus’ go for another run tomorrow. Y’wouldn’t let me run if I got hurt, m’sure, Dr. Alden,” his half smile and the sweat in his hair was all too much for her. What the fuck was happening to her?
It had to be the hotel bed and that spa. She was too relaxed. Too overwhelmed. Plus, there was the whole thing where Harry held her yesterday to comfort her that was still a very happy memory despite how sad she had been at the time. Holy shit she touched those muscles and she didn’t even know the half of what he was hiding.
His hand gently touched her lower back to get her moving. He draped his shirt over his shoulder, and they walked almost silently for a couple blocks. When they went through a busy crosswalk, Harry’s hand pressed to the middle of her back, and it nearly sent her right back to the ground.
“Did you have a nice day?” She asked suddenly. It was so random but clearly the brain that got her through med school was no longer party to her body. Fortunately, Harry must not have noticed nor cared.
“It was alright,” he shrugged. “Saturdays are kind of boring. Everyone’s usually out and about for a while or holed up in their places after the work week.”
“Yeah, that makes sense.”
“Mrs. Wentworth has been on another level this week,” he shook his head opting for some small talk over the din of the city sounds around them.
“I know,” she rolled her eyes. “The scuffing the elevator floor might have been what set me over the edge yesterday.”
He smirked almost sadly. “Y’didn’t even scuff it. I checked.”
“Why’s she so crotchety anyway?”
Harry sighed and shrugged. “All the money in the world can’t buy happiness, you know?”
She nodded knowingly. “I agree completely.”
“Do y’have any plans for the next couple days?” He asked.
The walk back took twice as long as the run, which was great because she genuinely loved spending time with Harry and it was rare they had long lengths of time together when he was working or there was always something else to deal with. “Not really. Hopefully I’ll finish painting finally. Every time I start a new project, another thing pops up.”
“Do y’need help?”
That very well could have been the sexiest thing any man, but especially Harry, had ever said to her. “Uh…” she shrugged one shoulder. “I think I’m okay.”
“Well… let me know if y’need help. Niall’s better than me, but m’pretty handy overall,” he smirked.
Jesus Christ she was going to trip again. “Thank you. I’ll let you know,” she assured him. “I’m going to visit my family next time I’m off—the whole weekend doesn’t always line up you know? My short shift is on Saturday so I’m thinking I’ll leave right from work.”
“S’nice. Special occasion?” He asked.
“Um…” she bit the inside of her lip and looked away shyly. “It’s my birthday actually.”
“Oh?” He grinned a bit brighter. “Y’were jus’ gonna leave town and not tell me?”
“I don’t really make my birthday a thing. I’ve been so busy for like the last ten years it’s almost impossible to celebrate it. Honestly, the idea of traveling all that way for a short weekend seems tiring as well… But…I don’t know. I… I just miss my mom,” she swallowed around the lump of emotion that lodged itself awkwardly in her throat. “They’re busy too and stuff,” she explained. “But I don’t need a lot.”
“Jus’ cause y’don’t need a lot doesn’t mean y’shouldn’t get the bare minimum,” he said gently.
It was already hard not to embarrass herself because of his abs and tattoos having a staring contest with her that they were undoubtedly winning. His soft and vulnerable words made her feel like she was going to cry so she shook her head quickly and shrugged one shoulder once more. “I guess it’s a lot easier for one person to travel to all of them than trying to gather all of them to come to me.”
He hummed quietly. “S’your birthday. They should come to you,” he stated quietly. As they approached Kingsley Place Harry slipped his shirt back over his torso which was completely not what she wanted but a blessing really. There was no way she could get her brain to make grilled cheese without burning her apartment down and she would have hated it if Harry had to file more paperwork because of her.
Of course, Harry held the door open for her. She noted he picked up his pace just a hair through the lobby as they approached the elevator. “Embarrassed to be seen with me?” She joked as they got on the lift.
He rolled his eyes at her as he pressed the button for her floor. “Not even a little. M’embarrassed t’be seen… out of uniform.”
She bit her tongue hard enough to draw a bit of blood to keep herself from saying he looked pretty good out of uniform. “No one would expect you to be all proper all the time,” she stated. “You’re a person and whatnot.”
A really hot—almost too hot to be real—person.
He shrugged. “Mrs. Wentworth kind of scares me.”
“You can’t let a mean old lady scare you, Harry,” she giggled.
“M’pretty sure she wants me fired because I tipped her package upside down by accident.”
“Did you break it?”
“No, it was like a box of office supplies,” he shook his head.
She sighed heavily. “Uncle Henry never mentioned her.”
“Probably for good reason.”
She bent to untie her key from her laces and winced in pain at the stretch of the cut on her skinned knee. “I’ll grab it,” he offered quickly.
Then Harry was kneeling. At her feet. Untying her shoe.
If he wasn’t embarrassed to be seen with her before, she was certain he would be soon. She might imagine this moment in bed for the rest of her life, and she was almost sure he’d be able to see it on her face if he looked up at her any time soon. He opened her door like this was the most normal occurrence. Like he lived there. It felt very nice to think of it that way.
They went to the kitchen first and she immediately washed her hands. She ignored the sting from the water and enjoyed the soothing feeling of the soap and clean water almost instantly. Harry headed for the bathroom and returned in a minute with a small first aid kit. “How’d you know I had that?” She wondered as she patted her hands dry and gathered the ingredients for grilled cheese.
He smirked. “Uh… you’re a doctor,” he reminded her with a tilt of his head. “Remember?”
Right. Not really. Clearly.
A picture of his abs would be great in torture room. Hard to lie about anything with them on the brain. She was certain she’d trade government secrets for just a look at them. “Sit,” he nodded to the stool.
She snorted. “Harry, they’re just little cuts and whatnot, I don’t need—”
“Humor me, darling. M’not a doctor. But I can make sure y’cuts don’t get infected,” he placed the small kit on the island counter and flipped open the lid to reveal a variety of items for small cuts and scrapes such as hers. “I know those scrapes sting like crazy, so let me cover them so y’don’t hurt them a bunch making our snack.”
So of course, she had no choice but to sit down and let him fawn over her. He was very gentle and thorough. Like he really was concerned she’d get an infection like gangrene or something. “You have a very nice bedside manner,” she stated.
He snorted, smirking in such a way and so close to her she was absolutely riveted by the dimple in his cheek that the little voice in her head (the one that was hers and not some obscure sound that wormed its way into her head) asked her to stick her tongue in it. He patted the bandage on her palm after he completed the second hand. “All set. I’ll leave this out so y’can tend t’your other cuts later.”
You could take your pants off right now! The voice in her head was getting almost belligerent.
Shut. Up.
“Thank you, Dr. Styles,” she giggled.
He chuckled. “You’re welcome. I can make the grilled cheese for you, too,” he stated opening the bag for the loaf of bread. “How many slices of cheese do y’want?”
It was possible he knocked his own earlier sentence out of the top spot for the sexiest thing ever said. “I can do it,” she protested weakly because the thought of Harry’s insanely hot body and his very sweet words and actions were making her brain very foggy that she wondered if she had hit her head in her tumble. She stood and moved around the island, but Harry shook his head.
“M’sure y’can, darling. Sit.”
Was she supposed to say no to him?
“You’re kind of bossy,” she said knowingly. It was a lot safer on her heart and head to tease him.
“Seems t’be the only way t’get you t’relax for half a second,” he quirked an eyebrow at her as he put some butter in the frying pan.
God, she wished she was staying in that hotel bed another night. She had a lot more things to add to her imagination.
*
Harry didn’t tell Niall about how much time they spent together over the last forty-eight hours. Nor that he got to hold her while she cried, or that he tended to her wounds, and fed her a post-run snack. It seemed special and private, and he wanted to keep it that way.
There was a small ache starting behind Harry’s eye, and he didn’t pay too much attention to it. Eye strain and tiredness were likely the culprits. He wanted to deal with his morning routines first. Mr. Langley was already out the door, and he’d already suffered his five-minute conversation with Mrs. Wentworth. Mr. and Mrs. Keningston were out for breakfast and Mr. and Mrs. Sinclair would be back from brunch after church. He made sure the lobby looked clean before he stepped out briefly and hurried up the street to deal with his most pressing and important morning routine he developed in the last few months.
He exited the elevator holding a coffee in hand and knocked on her door firmly. Within ten seconds he heard her quick footfalls behind the door. He realized his mistake as she pulled the door out of the way. She scanned him quickly and then the tension in her body sagged. The anxiety left her instantly and Harry felt bad he made her worry.
He knew that Mrs. Higgins knocked on her door the day before and it was probably likely she would always answer her door in the same worried manner for a very long time. “Oh, m’sorry,” he frowned. “Did I wake you?” He asked.
She was wearing shorts. If you could call them that. She tugged the hem of her T-shirt by her extremely pretty thighs (was she not wearing a bra?) oh God. Harry messed up, royally. He kept his eyes on her sleepy face and tried not to think about the way her T-shirt took top position for the prettiest outfit he’d ever seen her in.
“No, I was… lounging, I’m sorry I thought there was an emergency—can you… give me like one minute?” She asked realizing there was no immediate emergency. She slowly inched halfway behind the door. Her cheeks flushed the prettiest color of red—a red that matched the small shorts just beneath the hem of—
“Yeah, of course, m’sorry,” he repeated apologetically keeping his eyes focused on her very pretty face.
She closed the door. Harry noted the pain in his head amplified tenderly and he thought maybe if he bashed his head repeatedly into the frame around the door, he wouldn’t feel as stupid as he did. God she was pretty.
The door opened again and she was wearing actual shorts now, which meant Harry had seen her in underwear. He was glad he did all his tasks for the morning because he wasn’t sure how productive he’d be having the knowledge of her pretty thighs and small shorts in his aching head.
Harry held the coffee out instantly and tried not to think about how she was definitely not wearing a bra. Jesus, fuck, this was a bad idea. “I jus’ wanted t’get this for you. I should have jus’ kept it downstairs but thought y’might want t’hang in your place and I guess I didn’t think ‘bout how—”
“Thank you,” she interrupted and the kindness in her voice was so sweet. “That’s very thoughtful.”
He breathed out in relief and the pain in his head subsided a bit. “I uh… I’ll get out of your hair,” he rubbed the back of his neck and bit the inside of his lip. “Have a nice day, Miss.”
“Have a nice day, Harry,” she grinned, sipped her coffee, and sighed. “Perfect.”
She really was.
*
It was too late by the time Harry realized what was happening. He sat in his office with the lights off and the door shut hoping that no one would really need him until after he left at the end of his shift. It was wishful thinking, however. Because why would that happen when he needed it to?
He moved much too slowly as the knock on his office door sounded like cannon balls directly inside his temples. He blinked wearily against the light from the lobby. Was the sun suddenly inside the lobby?
“Harry,” Sloane asked. “Can you call us a cab? We have to get to this new restaurant to review it,” she explained at lightning speed.
Did he nod? He thought he did. Slowly he turned back to the dark office and grabbed his phone off the desk. He was definitely moving at a glacial pace. But to answer his own question, no; the sun was not in the lobby. It was in his phone. The bright screen made him drop it on the desk which was almost as loud as the cannons that happened when Sloane knocked on his office door.
The pain in his head was making his stomach ache; and he was fairly certain he might pass out at any moment. Or throw up. All of which was not a good move in front of Sloane and Hailey.
“Are you alright?” Sloane asked. Too loudly. But it was quite perceptive to think of someone other than herself, he thought.
“Fine,” he murmured. But the effort to say the word made his jaw hurt and consequently amplified the pain in his temple. The medicine he took did nothing and he knew it might—probably—not help, but he really hoped that it would. It was just a couple more hours and then he could go. “I’ll call; they’ll be here in ten minutes.”
Harry closed the door and promptly threw up in the trashcan. Maybe that would help. But after moment it was clear, if anything, the throbbing in his temples only worsened. He managed to dial the cab number that worked almost exclusively with the building. He spoke as quickly as he possibly could pained by having to repeat himself because the company’s answering service was definitely struggling to understand his mumbled words before he threw up again. Once seated behind the desk, he pressed his face to the cool wood and silently prayed the pain would stop.
However, the smell of his own vomit made him more nauseous. It was just vicious. Unfair. Cruel. He had such a nice evening with the pretty girl and saw her pretty thighs this morning and now he was just—
“Have you seen Harry?”
No, no, no. He did not want her to see him like this. “He’s in his office,” Hailey said and he could almost hear her eyeroll in disgust. “He’s being weird and not doing his job. Our cab is late.”
“Would you like me to call the cab for you?” She asked kindly. “If Harry can do it, I’m sure I can as well.” “It’s really unlike him to not do something we ask. I sure hope he’s okay,” she stated both sweetly and bitingly. He really was in love with her. It was quite embarrassing.
Almost as embarrassing as her knocking softly on the door (much softer than Sloane had, may he add). “Harry?” She asked softly. He couldn’t answer and then her voice turned away from the door as she spoke again. “I think your cab is right outside.”
Sloane mumbled a thank you and the sound of high heels clicked away across the lobby.
For a moment, Harry hoped she had left. But instead, the door quietly clicked open. “Whoa,” she whispered. He was sure she could smell that he was sick and incapable of cleaning it up or dealing with it for the moment. Pure embarrassment washed over him and if he wasn’t feeling so weak, he might have told her to leave. “Harry?” She asked, closing the door behind her with another very soft click. It was clear she knew almost instinctively what was going on. The way she was speaking so softly, how she tried her best to keep the light from the lobby out of the office. If he wasn’t feeling so poorly already, his stomach might have flipped at the kind gesture. But she was also closing herself in with the smell of him being sick and pathetic. He simply couldn’t have that.
“Go away,” he moaned exhaustedly.
“Oh goodness,” she whispered. “Come with me.”
“M’working,” he groaned. “Jus’ go away,” he was in so much pain he practically slurred his words.
She somehow managed to keep her voice below a whisper. “Not happening. Keep your eyes closed. I’ll guide you,” she offered and gently touched his shoulders. It hurt, but also felt very soothing. It was hard to describe.
“I can’t,” he repeated. “Money.”
She sighed very quietly. “I’m sorry Harry, I don’t care. You need to take care of yourself right now,” tugged very gently on him to get out of his seat.
Harry was exhausted. Run down. Sick.
This was miserable and he didn’t want this pretty angel to have to take care of him. But he was really not himself, out of his element, and simply too ill to care much more or longer. He stood slowly; each step and movement felt like knives drilling into his brain and skull at the same time. She grabbed his hand and squeezed his fingers.
“I’m gonna open the door. Keep your eyes shut,” her voice was melodic and beautiful, and he wished he could tell her. He could see the change in lights through his eyelids, and he tilted his head down. The smell of his own vomit followed him, and he felt disgusted with himself and his predicament. He hoped she wouldn’t think too poorly of him.
The ping of the elevator felt like an electric shock through his whole body. “Sorry,” she whispered seeing him wince further in pain.
The movement of the elevator as they started moving up, topped with his aching head, and already queasy stomach meant only one thing. “M’gonna be sick,” he warned.
“Go ahead,” she whispered and something pressed to the front of his chest just in time for him to be sick again.
For someone with a horrible migraine he had way too much clarity of what it meant. She carried his vomit trashcan through the lobby for him.
He groaned quietly. “Almost there,” she continued to whisper as if he hadn’t just embarrassed himself in front of her. When the elevator stopped another wave of nausea flowed over him, but he refused to make this any worse than it was regardless of how gross he felt and he was not going to throw up again.
He heard the small click of her lock turning and the way she quieted the turn of her doorknob as well. She grabbed his hand again and guided him inside her entry way.
Usually too much of any smell made Harry feel worse. But the only thing he could recognize was how good it smelled in her place. Like fresh laundry. It was the first reprieve he had in hours. She gently tugged him forward, going at the same speed he set (glacial, once more). He couldn’t believe how terrible he felt and how kind and gentle she was being. After what felt like a ten-minute walk across her place she stopped. She put the trash can down and softly touched his shoulder. “Sit.”
They were quiet commands, but Harry knew she was trying to use less words if she could help it. His eyes were still closed so he was only vaguely aware of her movement. He sensed her presence moved elsewhere in the room. All of his senses were heightened so he swore he could hear everything. Even though she was moving quietly and almost soundlessly, he could still make out the slide of the curtain across the rod by the window. After a few silent seconds (where she must have made her way actually without sound) he heard her fridge open followed by a cabinet and then a drawer. His mind was only half working but the half that was functioning knew this was the most mortifying moment of his life. He would have been content with dying if it meant he didn’t embarrass himself any further in front of the pretty doctor.
Fortunately, the non-functioning portion of his brain was taking more residency in his head. He was a slave to the pain and nothing else. He quietly hoped she wouldn’t think he was as embarrassing as he felt after all this was over.
*
Harry leaned forward again without much warning and vomited again into the trashcan. She slowly padded across the room holding a glass of water and a cold compress. She kept the compress for her own headaches and while she knew this was no ordinary headache, she hoped it would help him feel better. And she really wished she could take the pain from Harry.
He moaned softly and she tilted his chin up gently from hovering over the trashcan. “Sip, swish, spit,” she placed the straw between his lips. He did as she asked. Once she placed the trashcan to the side, she held the straw out again. “Drink,” she ordered. He took a few big gulps, and she was relieved he was thirsty. “Open,” she placed two pills on his tongue and then put the straw back at his lips. She had some heavier pain relief for some intense menstrual cramping she used to get more frequently but still kept the medicine on hand just in case they ever cropped up again. Hopefully the stronger dose would make him feel better. She saw the small bottle of pills in the mostly dark office, and she was very thankful it was a different class of medication than the one she was offering him now. “Drink.”
Once the medicine was done, she set the plastic cup on the coffee table. She knelt in front of him and untied his shoes and pulled them off as slowly as she could. Next, she unbuttoned his suit coat and slid it off his shoulders then undid his black button-down. She was fortunate he had a fitted black T-shirt beneath it. Mostly because she felt it would be extremely unfair to Harry if she ogled his abs without his consent or knowing.
She managed to get his belt off but wouldn’t be going further to get him out of his pants. “Lay.”
He slowly laid back onto the sofa. When his head touched the cushion he breathed a sigh of relief. Feeling confident he would be okay for a minute, she grabbed the trash can and headed to the bathroom. She closed the door quietly, hoping to add another layer to block out the sound from him. She flushed and rinsed the trashcan out as best she could in the shower. Knowing how heavy scents could really ruin his progress, she then sprayed it down with a scentless cleaning product. Anything to keep the stimulation of senses to the most minimum.
She returned to the living room and Harry looked like he might have fallen asleep. It was hard to tell because his pretty green eyes had been closed since she told him to close them down in his office. Softly, she stroked the back of her fingers across his forehead then gently laid the cold compress across it. She replaced the trashcan beside his head. Hopefully, he wouldn’t be sick again; not that it mattered if he did get sick, but mostly because she just felt so bad it was happening to him.
“M’sorry, darling,” he managed to croak.
“Shh,” she hushed. “Drink,” she held the straw to his lips again and he took a few more gulps. “Sleep.”
*
While Harry slept, she dug in his pocket for his work phone. She brought his clothes to the end of her apartment where she threw them in the wash hoping Harry wouldn’t mind. She turned off anything she thought might have a chance of making noise in her place. She dialed Niall on his phone from her bedroom and explained the situation.
“Thanks, Dr. Alden,” he chuckled. “I’ll call Nick t’get down there. Poor guy.”
She frowned to herself and nodded. “Yeah, I feel terrible,” she sighed. “Can you grab some comfier clothes for him? You can leave them outside my apartment. Just in case he wants them when he wakes up.”
“Sure, darling,” there was a massive smile in his voice, and she felt herself blushing. Did Niall know how ridiculously infatuated she was with his best friend? Surely, he knew from the tamer instances when she first moved in—the donuts, the coffees, and other treats. But now Harry was asleep and ill in her apartment, and she could have helped him to his place. She didn’t need to bring him. She didn’t even have a bed for him to sleep on. “Thanks for taking care of him, darling. Not a lot of people do,” he said knowingly.
A painful ache pressed against her ribcage. Break my heart, why don’t you?
She hung up with Niall and returned to the living room. She hoped that sleeping on the sofa didn’t make it too uncomfortable for him. But he was probably feeling so ill that sleeping on the coffee table would have made him feel better.
It looked like he hadn’t moved an inch. She grabbed a blanket and cozied up in the oversized chair with her book and monitored his breathing every now and again while he slept the pain away.
*
“Drink,” she whispered. Each time Harry stirred and sounded a little more awake she offered him water which he greedily took when he was awake. If he didn’t, then she just put the water aside again and waited until his next wakeful moment.
Poor Harry slept for hours. She changed his cold compress every hour or so. She made good headway on her book and enjoyed the sound of Harry’s soft breathing as background noise. Her apartment was too quiet on a regular day. Even with her intention of staying near silent, it was nice to have his quiet in her place.
Eventually with her book almost finished Harry stirred a little more prominently. She settled the book on the coffee table opened so as not to lose her page. Then grabbed his water. “Drink,” she ordered holding the straw to his lips. This time, he slowly sat up. Gently, he cupped his hands around hers. She was lucky she was so focused on caring for him because if he wasn’t ill there was a very good chance she would have dropped the water on him.
Once he drank most of the glass, she set it down again and grabbed the cold compress that slid off his head when he sat up. She grabbed the other one from the freezer. She returned, holding it out for him to take. This time he placed it behind his head at the base of his skull and sighed deeply. “Feels better back here,” he murmured.
She pouted. “Oh, I’m sorry… I was doing your foreh—”
“Do not apologize,” he gave his head the smallest little wiggle as he murmured slowly. “M’sorry y’had t’see this—”
“It was nothing,” she assured him quickly, softly.
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “How long—”
“Don’t worry about it, you can sleep some more if you want.”
He glanced at her. “Isn’t this your bed?”
She blushed. “I have an air mattress.”
“If it wouldn’t break m’brain, I’d roll m’eyes,” he mumbled.
She smirked and watched him. “Do you need anything?” She asked.
“No, you’ve done enough. M’gonna head back to m’apartment.”
“You can stay here, I don’t mind,” she offered.
“No, I jus’ keep thinking that y’took this trash can with you and it makes me want t’jump out a window,” he hung his head low.
“Harry, I’m a doctor. Moreover, a medical examiner. A little throw up isn’t going to scare me.”
He sighed. “M’very embarrassed. I should have left work sooner t’deal with it. But I…I don’t know. The money and stuff.”
“I get it,” she assured him. “I’m sorry you felt so poorly. Please stay here, Niall brought you some comfier clothes. If you change into them I can wash your whole outfit.”
“S’really too much.”
“It’s not, I really haven’t done much at all. Being quiet like this meant I could read my whole book,” she smiled. “So thank you.”
He huffed a little. She could see he was trying not to agitate the pain anymore. “Yeah, sure. Welcome,” he mumbled.
“I’m sorry you’re not having a nice day,” she whispered.
Harry looked up and met her gaze. It was the first time she got to see the pretty green irises that matched her bedroom walls since this morning when he caught her in just her underwear. Just with him looking at her made her blush. Softly the corner of his mouth pulled up just so.
God he was pretty.
“Despite everything, darling… m’having a pretty nice day.”
--
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