About (Harry Styles)

80.

Songs:

Both of Us - Bob and Taylor Swift

Elaine's POV

The skies are grey today, just like how it feels in my chest.  Grey, dull, .. tired.  I stare out mindlessly into the outside world with headphones in but with no music on and close my eyes.  With a deep breath, I try to rid of him from my mind but too soon, his face appears, taunting me with that smirk of his.

And of course, those irresistible dimples of his.  

Why can't I forget about him? 

Why can't I just move on?

It'd be so much easier .. to forget.  To pretend it was all a dream.  I unplug the earphones from my ears and stuff them back inside my bag but come across the handkerchief he'd given me just the day before yesterday.

How could I return this to him now?

The pads of my fingers smooth across the velvety surface of his handkerchief but I stop myself when I see a piece of white paper sticking out from the sides of the handkerchief. As I pull it out, it reads a smeared but legible telephone number.

"If lost, please ring this number." It says.

Before I allow myself to skim over the number one more time, I quickly return it inside the pocket of my bag, knowing it's his.

I can't even look at him after what he said, or what he almost said yesterday.  

I don't even know if he showed up for the interview after he left. I hope he did.  It would make today a whole lot more bearable if he didn't come. 

"Woods, can I see you for a moment?"  Mr. Jensen calls out as I walk through the doors.  By his tone, I can tell it's not going to be something good. 

Fear is etched in India's eyes as I walk pass her. I press my lips into a smile to give her some reassurance that it's going to be fine.  But to be honest, I'm not sure if it was.

"You're fired, Woods," Jensen says blurts before I can make it two steps inside.

My eyes drop to the floor, and I swallow the lump in the my throat.  I won't let myself cry. Not here.  Though I knew I had it coming, there's no way to prepare myself for such a blunt blow.

"If I may be so bold, Mr. Jensen, I would like to know the reason," I reply.

"I'm sure you're smart enough to figure out why," he says, sounding more disappointed than anything else.  "You were in charge of this and not showing up is something we don't tolerate,  even if you were sick."

"I understand."

"And because of that, our client has changed his mind about this project."

"What? He can't do that," I claim rather passionately.  Can he?

"He can, actually."

"How? Weren't there terms or conditions?" I ask, growing more confused.  It doesn't make any sense that he can so easily and irresponsibly pull out of this project for no good reasons at all.