Buttercup [H.S]

Chapter Eight

It was a week later and I was sat in Lucy's garden, where she lived with her mum, Janis. Sipping a glass of wine, I tilted my head back to let the warm sun rest against my cheeks.

The sun was just beginning lower in the sky, a red-orange hue taking over the long winding garden. The sweet scent of foxgloves and hydrangeas filled my nose. Lanterns that hung from the fruit trees had just began to light up, the multi coloured glass shining and reflecting agains the ground like church windows, and the low fire pit between the chairs had been lit to take off any chill that the evening may bring with it. I'd always loved coming to Lucy and her mums house, it felt consistently cosy and homely.

Whether it was the chit chatter from the group of ladies in the front room from Janis' book club, or the reggae music that the neighbours played out, or the endless offers of a cup of tea, there was nothing empty or quiet when I came here. It was the perfect end to a busy Saturday, to be here.

Work had been busier than usual and I was feeling suddenly optimistic that I'd made a decent profit for once. I'd sold out of pastries and cakes nearly every day this week, meaning I'd spent every evening busy with baking. In turn I hadn't rolled into work with my usual hangover each morning. I was feeling pretty good for once.

Even Harry had notice the uncharacteristic spring in my step recently, having caught him watching me with a bemused smirk as I chatted away to my customers, or gave a toddler a free cupcake when she'd dropped her ice cream and fallen into a fit of hysterics.

"What?" I had said to him when I spotted him grinning at me.

"Nothing," he'd laughed, shaking his head. "You just seem more like the taking candy from a baby type than handing it out is all."

I rolled my eyes but instead of snapping back, I'd taken a couple of bottles of water from the drinks fridge behind me, handing one over the partition between us to him. He'd hesitated to take it.

"Don't worry, poison isn't part of my plan to off you," I'd laughed. "Come on, take it, it's boiling in here."

Still unsure, Harry had slowly approached me before gingerly taking the water bottle from my hands and mumbling a thanks.

"And I'll have you know, I love kids", I'd said as I took a sip from my water bottle.

"Mhm," he'd hummed dubiously at me over his own bottle as he tipped it back, taking a long sip. He wiped his shiny lips on the back of his hand and I couldn't help but watch. His nails were all painted green this week, apart from his pinky nail which was a warm, buttery yellow shade.

"You're checking me out again."

His low, raspy voice snapped me out of my haze with a jolt.

"You wish, Styles," I'd huffed out a laugh.

"Mhm," he hummed again, but I'd noticed he hadn't turned away yet like he usually did. Normally when he'd caught me staring like that, he'd make a joke then turn away uncomfortably and ignore me for a few hours.

But instead he'd stood there with his water raised half way to his mouth. He wet his lips with his tongue before I watched his eyes slowly slide down me, to my bare shoulders and my white tank top, to the same paint stained denim shorts that I'd worn when he'd first shown up at the market. A smirk twitched at the corners of his mouth as he took in the yellow Buttercups apron that I'd tied around my waist, before they slid achingly slowly down my exposed things until his eyes flicked back up to mine.

"You checking me out now, Styles?" I breathed out. I couldn't hide the waver in my voice despite trying to force out some confidence. I wonder if he could see my heart vibrating beneath my shirt.