You Still Have All Of My Heart. (Harry Styles)

4.

And straight into Harry's lanky body. He made a funny sound, and I screamed in surprise, my hands reflexively clutching the fabric of his sweater to steady myself. I immediately let go, my face turning an ugly shade of red.

There he was, in a grey beanie and sunglasses, laughing at me, his brown curls glinting in

the sun.

I think, in that moment I realized: Harry Styles was fucking gorgeous.

"Nice to see you too, babe," he murmured. "You smell lovely," he added as we began to walk. I had no words for my sudden realization of Harry's attractiveness, so I just smiled.

"Where to, boss?" I asked as we began walking down the sidewalk, nudging his shoulder.

He nudged my shoulder back and laughed. "It's a surprise, Topher, I can't tell you!"

"Yeah, but," I started but he cut me off by putting his hand over my mouth.

"No buts, you little schemer!" He looked over at me and grinned.

I complained from under his hand, grabbing it and taking it off my face. I huffed jokingly, "Fine." I looked over at him, and then made a dramatic event of taking out my sunglasses and putting them on, scrunching my nose at him. We made our way to the center of our little town.

Harry turned to me. "So, tell me, Topher, have you ever been to Mandevilles?" I looked at him, puzzled. He continued, "It's a bakery. And I just so happen to work there." He looked so proud. I couldn't contain my laughter.

"Is that my surprise?" I asked, batting my eyelashes at him. And Harry Styles actually blushed. I smiled as his face turned a shade of pink, and nodded. In an uncharacteristic move, I grabbed his hand, tugging him along.

"Well, let's go then, time's a wastin'!" We practically raced to the door. The bell on the top jingled, and we were greeted by an older gentleman, who didn't look too pleased.

"Hey Mr. Wakefield," Harry waved as the man narrowed his eyes. "Harry, you're not working yet, you should be in school," he warned. Harry seemed to ignore him.

I watched as he put on an apron and walked behind the counter to the kitchen. Mr. Wakefield directed his attention towards me with a smile. "And who is this young lady?"

"Hello, I'm Topher Alexandria," I introduced myself shyly.

"I like this girl, Harry. You two can stay, but please! Clean up after yourself," Mr. Wakefield called, sounding exasperated. He turned to leave, and I waved awkwardly as the doorbell jingled.

Harry peeked out from behind the counter, and gave me the thumbs up. "The coast is clear! Party!" he shouted, turning on a radio and started dancing. I giggled and walked up to him to see what he was doing, but he put both hands on my sides and pushed me away.

"No, no, no. Still a surprise, go entertain yourself." I gave him the middle finger, and he faked being offended.

I laughed and stalked off to a corner of the kitchen. "No peeking," Harry warned.

"I'm not!" I called, and began searching for something I could put in his hair.

I opened a cabinet and found half a bag of flour. The radio was playing rather loud: loud enough that he couldn't hear me sneak up behind him. Working quickly, I grabbed a handful of flour from the bag, reached up, and dropped the white powder straight on top of his curly brown hair.

The flour landed with a puff, sending a white cloud into the air. Harry whirled around, gasping as more flour fell into his eyes. "Oh, you are so dead!"

He tried to grab me, but I screamed and ran around to the other side of the island. He grabbed a handful and threw it at me. An all out war began as I grabbed another bag of flour. The air was completely thick with the white powder. He came after me with his bag, and I ran into the corner, laughing and out of breath.

After a while I sat down and leaned on the cabinets to calm down. He sat down next to me, grinning. "You look like a ghost," I told him, reaching up to brush flour off the top of his head.

"You just destroyed this place. You're the Tasmanian devil. I should call you Taz," he countered. Still grinning, he turned so his body was facing mine. His eyes searched mine, and my heart twisted into knots.

"You know what I think?" he murmured. Our faces were inches apart. With his hands, he reached up to brush the flour off my face. He traced his fingers across my lips, my chin.

My mouth parted under his touch slightly as I took in a shaky breath. "What do you think?" my words came out in a whisper as he brought his face closer to mine.

"I think you're beautiful," His voice became raspy, and I felt his breath on my lips.

I took in his smell: a strange mix of soap and flour. It almost caused me to laugh. I let myself lean in and close my eyes. Just as I felt his lips brush mine, the front door of the bakery jingled.

"Harry Styles, what the hell is this mess?" Mr. Wakefield was back, and furious. Harry gave me an apologetic look and jumped up to try and explain why we and the kitchen were completely covered in flour. I sat, stunned by what had almost happened between us. What I had almost let happen since...well, yeah.

I watched from my sitting position in the corner as Mr. Wakefield thrust a broom into Harry's hand. "This better be cleaned up by tonight or else, Harry," he turned to leave again, worn out by his tirade.

The door jingled again, and we were alone. Harry had a hand on his head, looking very distraught. "I'm sorry I ruined your surprise," I said softly.

He looked over at me and smiled slightly. "Don't be too worried about it, he'll get over himself," Harry waved his hand dismissively. "Now, help me clean this up!" he bounded over to me, and grabbed my hands to pull me up.

But instead of letting my hands go, he intertwined our fingers and began to speak. "You know I meant everything I said earlier. Don't ever forget it." He bent closer and kissed me quickly on the cheek. Heat rose where his lips touched my skin.

I blushed completely all over in an ugly shade of red. He looked me in the eyes and I took in every detail of his face. The way his eyebrows raised slightly when he grinned, and how long and strangely beautiful his eyelashes were, framing his gray-green eyes. He laughed slightly, probably at the way I was completely gawking at him. He was perfect, in every way.

"What are you staring at, T?" he murmured, resting his hands gently on my sides. I shook my head, clearing my thoughts.

"Nothing, nothing. Let's get to work, ghostie boy!" I snatched the broom and poked him on the nose, sending a puff of flour from his hair into the air.

He threw his head back and laughed, completely carefree and happy. We spent the next hour or so sweeping up the store, all the while talking and laughing about anything and everything.

That night after I had washed all of the white out of my hair, I sat in my room, content and at ease, something I hadn't been in a while. I heard a soft knock on my door, and my mother walked in, wishing me a good night. A couple minutes afterward, I was fast asleep.