MY NAME, IS SIR [HARRY STYLES]

~~07~~

Harry, however, doesn't comment, he strides confidently into the room, placing himself down in the desk chair. Leaning back slightly, he allows one of his legs to swoop over the other, letting his ring covered fingers press together on top of his knees.

His demeanour once again being both intimidating and demanding. His presence alone makes you want to obey any sort of command he gives you only because of how terrified you are of any ramifications.

I continue to stand there in the middle of the room like an obstinate statue, not knowing how to proceed in this situation.

As he bites his bottom lip and lets his eyes deliberately wander the length of me, I remember that I am standing here in just a business shirt. His business shirt.

After allowing a few excruciating moments pass in complete silence, a trivial snicker comes from his lips. "I had Joseph pick you up some clothes earlier this morning, you'll find them on the bathroom vanity"

Every part of me wanted to absolutely kick off knowing that we had been willingly watching me sweat and not saying anything but considering the state he found me in last night, and now taking care of me, I think biting my tongue in this case was the more appropriate option.

As I enter the bathroom, which, let's be honest, was bigger than my entire apartment back on campus, I found a stack of clothes folded just where Harry said they would be.

I decided to have a quick shower before getting dressed as last night had left me feeling horrific and I'm pretty sure I still had some puke in my hair.

As I let the water brush over my hair and down my body, I could feel the tensions inside my body release as the warm droplets fall off each of my curves. Closing my eyes and allowing the warmth completely to consume me, I try and think through my next moves with Harry since I still didn't know what it was he wanted with me.

Slipping on the clothes Joseph had picked out for me, I was surprised to see that they were exactly my size and as I glance at myself in the mirror, I'm wearing clothes that I would have never picked out for myself yet were completely my style.

Even though it was a simple high waisted, wide leg neutral tones tartan pant mixed with a simple black tank with wide straps that covered the space between my shoulder and collarbone, the look was both simple yet elegant enough to make me feel like royalty in it.

I was a little hesitant as I came out of the bathroom, still scrubbing the end of my hair flicking through the damp ends. Harry was still sitting at the desk, pen in hand totally expended in what looked to be business but what took my back was the small appearance change that actually caused a fluttering in my chest.

Perched upon his nose and surrounding his enthralling eyes was a pair of black framed glasses.

I liked how they looked on him. In a way it seemed to soften his features and made him look less scary and more like Clark Kent, just blending into day-to-day life before he rips open his shirt to reveal his superman attire.

"Hey" I mumble, catching his attention off guard as he double looks, taking his glasses from his face the second time.

"Hey, feeling better?" he asks, pushing all of his paperwork back together and filing it back into his briefcase.

"Much, thank you" I appreciate, moving further into the room and letting my hair fly back behind me, letting the remainder of it airdry.

"You need to eat" he asserts standing from his chair.

I shake my head urgently, "Oh, no it's alright. I can pick something up on the way home"

Harry stops in his tracks, glancing at me with the most judgemental eyes I have ever seen on someone with an amused smirk on his face. "Microwavable Poptarts are not a meal, Charlotte" he mocks.