About (Harry Styles)

77.

Songs:

Looking For You Again - Matthew Perryman Jones

Elaine's POV

It's raining outside this morning.

Great.  I guess the garden is no longer a valid option. It's just my luck.

While on the bus, I pull out and look through the list of questions India had emailed me.  I had to print them off since I needed a physical copy.  There were many questions concerning his music career.

How he's been since the One Direction break?
How he got into the producing side of things?
What inspired him to become a producer?

There were also few personal questions regarding relationships and marriage. Even though hearing the answers to that already concerned me, there was a set of questions that I knew was over the line.  I'd have to talk to India about those.  I don't think he would share such personal information with us. Mostly due to legal reasons.

He never even shared such things with me.

From the bus stop to my workplace, I literally had to run three blocks, passing by strangers who were flashing me with either pitiful or amused looks. The rain really picked up during the bus ride.

I'm soaking wet by the time I enter the building. My clothes, my hair, my bag is completely drenched. As I walk towards the elevator, I shake off the remaining droplets with my hands.

I notice there is only one person waiting at the elevator doors, and I envy that he is not one inch drenched from the rain as I am.

"Forget to check the forecast this morning?" The gentleman asks, and I chuckle.

"Yes," I reply before I turn to look at him.

The smile on my face completely vanishes when I realize it's him. I stare at him unconsciously, completely in shock.

As I realize he's staring back, I snap out of my daze and avert my attention to the red numbers at the top of the doors in distraction.

From the corner of my sight, I see his hand reaching out to me, a light blue handkerchief to offer me.  Even though I don't think his small handkerchief will do me any good, I don't want to leave him hanging so I take it out of courtesy.

"Thank you," I reply without looking at him, swiftly grabbing the corner to ensure that our hands don't accidentally touch.

There is one thing I do notice however when I grab the handkerchief. 

Something missing.  Around his wrist.  The bracelet that hugged his wrist so snuggly.

What did you expect, Elaine?   For him to still wear that stupid bracelet you made five and a half years ago.

Why do you expect so much? 

He probably threw it away after all these years. Our relationship is over and it would only make sense to discard something that ceased to exist a long time ago.

Once the elevator is on the first level, the doors slide open, and I immediately rush in towards the back as he stands on the right side, pushing the button with the number 10.