Adore [H.S.]

54

HARRY

"Try this one." Erin handed me my fifth plate of pie. Her hopeful eyes watched me as I reluctantly took a forkful of pie.

"What kind is this one?" I ask before bringing it to my lips. I was getting tired of testing pie. I could feel the five different varieties of the dessert rest at the pit of my stomach. If I had to eat another fucking piece of pie, I was ready to throw it in her face.

"Strawberry peach," she raises her eyebrows in expectance. Sighing, I take the bite.

It was bitter. God, was it fucking bitter. I swallow it anyways, not wanting to spit out another piece. After the apple pie, key lime, blueberry, and the coconut cream, I was ready to fucking quit. "Honestly Erin," I wipe my mouth, "If I have to eat another bite of fucking pie -"

"I know! I know," she hands me a glass of water. "I just need to change up the dessert here. Brad asked me to do this and you know how he is. He's so damn picky with everything that we serve at the diner. I want to make the best decision."

"Fine," I grunt, taking another long sip of water. "What others do you have..."

She was lucky I loved pie. Or else I'd be done. I'd probably be quitting - claim that she tried to kill me with fucking food poisoning. "Really?" She looks at me skeptically. Shrugging, I nod once. She gives me a warm smile. Her eyes lighting up with gratitude, "Thanks kid."

"Yeah. Whatever."

I grab the dish cloth, making my way towards a now empty table. As I begin to wipe down, I hear the diner door open. The ring of the bell signaling a new customer. I don't bother to look up. Too preoccupied with this fucking nasty dish cloth. I should really get a new one -

"Hey!" I yell as someone spills a whole thing of salt on the table. "You got to be fucking joking me." I turn around, my eyes a blaze. My fists ball as I am met with piercing blue eyes.

"Chase."

His lips are quirked into a smirk. His eyes narrowing as he looks at me. Our faces eye level. I don't remember him being this fucking tall. His hands are stuffed into his jeans. His greasy blonde hair gelled back. "Missed a spot," He smirks.

I take a few deep breaths. My heart was racing. Being this close to Chase did that to me. I hated being near him and that arrogant look that was always plastered on his face. His judgmental eyes watching me. "What do you want," I ask him curtly. I am doing my best to hold back from punching him square in the jaw.

"I was in the mood for something... salty." He flicks his hand over the pile of salt on the table I had just cleaned.

"Then go to a fucking salt bar. Get out of here before I make you."

"Oh Styles," he begins to shake his head. His lips curled into an amused smile, "Are you really going to kick out a paying customer? What would your boss say about that?" He takes a seat on a chair. His long legs stretched out in front of him.

"If you're going to order, then fucking do it. But don't be surprised if you find a piece of hair in it." I begin to turn away from him. I couldn't stand looking at his face. Memories of how he had touched my girl, my Iz. I wanted to punch him all over again at the mere thought.

I walk back to the counter. My body was fuming. Every muscle tense, every hair on my body raised. The guy had a lot of nerve to come here. It had been a few months since I had seen him. Since Izzy had seen him. Ever since I had punched him in the face.

"You okay, kid?" Erin walks out from the back. She has another pie in her hands. She sets it down on the counter, her eyes watching me, concerned.