Chapter Thirty-Six

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Chapter Thirty-Six 

Harry’s POV

My phone rang on the nightstand, and I nearly knocked it to the floor as I reached for it, clumsy with sleep. “Ello?” I whispered inaudibly. I cleared my throat. “Ello?”

“Harry! I’m on my way over.” She said. “Are you still sleeping?”

I lifted my head up to glance at the clock before flopping back down onto my stomach. “No, I’m up.”

“Huh.” She laughed. “It doesn’t sound like it.”

I rolled onto my back and pushed my hair off my forehead. “You’re rather chipper in the morning.” My ankles cracked as I stretched out under the sheets, my eyes slowly adjusting to the light from the window.  

“Is chipper your code word for annoying, Styles?”  She didn’t give me a chance to answer. “Ten minutes. Put some pants on.”

Why can’t she just bet money like a normal person? I thought, sitting on the edge of the bed until my limbs were awake.  My loss meant I had to accompany Roxy to the shops this morning. Niall was the worst person to shop with, so I could understand why he was at the absolute bottom of her list of potential shopping partners, but I was still unsure why I’ve been chosen. However, a gentleman honors his debts, and so, this morning we will shop. The good news for me was that I had rehearsals at 1:00, so this couldn’t drag on all day.

I pulled on a t shirt, but didn’t bother with trousers; a small act of defiance, and padded out of my bedroom in time to hear her ring the bell.

“Morning. How’re you?” I said as she breezed past me and into the house.

“I’m a woman on a mission, Harry. I’ve got to find something to wear for Lou and Eleanor’s garden party this weekend, and something to wear to the fundraiser on Niall’s birthday.”  She said quickly. She looked down. “Umm. Pants?”

“Breakfast first?” I said, still a bit groggy.

“Breakfast before pants?”

“No.” I sighed.  “Pants, breakfast, mission.”

“Sure.” She replied.

“I’ll just have a quick shower. Make yourself at home.” 

Roxy’s POV

I made myself comfortable on his enormous couch. His home was immaculate, as if he were never there. Or maybe it was just that this room didn’t get much use. I suspected that perhaps his bedroom and bathroom were in a different state of things.  I didn’t actually expect Harry to agree to go out shopping with me today, but he called my bluff, and here I am. The party at Louis’ house was an annual end-of-summer event, and, of course, Niall’s only advice as far as wardrobe was to “wear something nice”. Hopefully Harry would be a little more help.  

I snagged a magazine from the coffee table to flip through as I listened to him move about upstairs, anxious to find out if he was a shower singer like Niall. Turns out, he was more of a whistling type of guy. I was a quarter way through the magazine before realizing it was all about cars. I tossed it back to the table. He’s got to have a FHM or at least a GQ around here someplace, I thought.  I sifted through the orderly stack, a crinkled piece of paper falling onto my lap. I gave it a once-over, and quickly realized it was personal, a letter. I tucked it away.

I thought about Harry’s face at the bar, and how he sometimes looks at Niall and I. His shift in mood had become more noticeable, almost as if he were a different person in the daylight than he was when he thought no one was looking.   There’s some great battle going on in that head, and I just wished he would let me in. He wasn’t one to spill secrets. My fingers glided along the edge of that letter, knowing I shouldn’t read it. I pulled it free let my eyes fall on the page once more, this time taking in every word, and every scribble he made. 

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