Golden Hands | Harry Styles (COMPLETED)

eighteen

"No milk and two sugars, please," she smiles at me from her position on the chair. "So, whereabouts in England are you from?"

"London, actually. Seems like everyone in this house has a relationship with that city."

"Yeah, you would think Harry would be surrounded by people from abroad when he mainly works in another continent but then, coincidentally, you find him with more brits."

"It's probably a good way for him to keep home close."

Gemma blows her tea, cooling it down because of its hot temperature from the boiling water. Her nails are painted in a salmon colour—which I consider a suitable one for this season—and, despite the possibility of someone trying to deny it, she's absolutely stunning, especially those freckles that cover her entire face.

"Where's he?" she asks. "Not that I want you gone! I'm just wondering."

"I'm letting him sleep for a bit."

"Lazy fucker," she laughs playfully.

"To be fair, we went out last night and he got pretty wasted."

"Still a lazy fucker," a couple of giggles leave her mouth just as the sound of a door opening echoes through the kitchen, followed by water. "Is that him?"

I nod my head, pointing out verbally that Sarah and Mitch have their own bathroom in their room at the end of the hallway but that they're currently not here. I pop the bread back in the toaster to heat it up as Harry won't take too long before stepping into the kitchen.

"So, how long have you two been dating? Harry keeps talking to mum about you."

A reddish colour appears on my cheeks; this is the first time that someone thinks we're a couple. "We're not dating. Just friends."

"Oh—right. I just assumed," she declares just as Harry enters the kitchen with water dripping down his neck from his damp hair. "Well, hello. I was expecting you at the door but getting received by this beauty instead isn't something I'm going to complain about."

Harry rolls his eyes in my direction. "Did you already win her over? In the span of five minutes?"

I shrug my shoulders timidly while handing him over a plate with three toasts. Now that they're next to each other, I can undeniably say that Harry's the spitting image of her.

"I didn't want you to be exhausted during your appointment so I turned off your alarm,"  I explain, keeping to myself the fact that I saw a picture of the two of us on his lock screen. "Though it seems like you still woke up early."

"It's fine," he smiles. "The meeting's very short but do you want to do anything while I'm out? I can drive you both there."

"Is it for the film?" Gemma asks.

"Yeah, I'm getting my hair cut. This one's been whining all week because of it, haven't you?" he nudges me. "Sadly, I can't keep my hair long for it."

"Mum prefers it short but she adores anything you wear." Gemma runs her hands messily through his strands, uncurling them in an imperceptible manner before he pushes her away. She turns to face me again. "Do you want to go anywhere, then?"

"Wait," Harry chimes in. "Did you plan on working today?"

"Yeah, but I can do it in the afternoon," I respond as I quickly add something else when I spot him almost complaining, "It's alright, really. Going out sounds good."

Gemma grins. "Wicked! Can you pick us up later, too?"

Harry nods before we get ready to leave. Once in the car, I sit next to Harry as Gemma sits behind us, right in the middle seat, so she can talk to us. The sights seen through my window are now recognisable; we've been constantly driving this way but they don't get less splendid.