Parachute | Harry Styles Short Story

Milf & Dilf hours!

She has an enchanting smile and he watches her walk over to him, digging into her tote bag with the other hand.

"These people told me my food would be ready now, can you imagine that?" the woman rants and looks up.

The sight of the beautiful curly haired man throws her off and she gives him a soft smile. He looks a little uncomfortable but she's not sure if that's it.

There's a little distance between them and Harry slowly focuses on her lips, in case they will have to do more talking. She gets out her wallet from the bag and shakes her head in disappointment.

Harry studies her facial expression and he can tell that she's upset. The woman looks at him and exhales, trying not to be a nag at a holiday cafe.

"I'm sorry, I'm just hungry," she waves it off with a smile.

Thankfully, she enunciates in an almost perfect manner and Harry understands by reading her lips.

This relaxes him and he clears his throat with a little more confidence than expected.

"It's....fine," he replies, hoping it makes sense.

The woman catches how different he obviously sounds and she shrugs it off with a small smile.

"Are you on holiday?" she asks.

"Yes," Harry says.

"Me too. Are you here alone?" she asks, politely.

Harry doesn't catch this because he looks to check if Blue is done and he calmly returns his attention to the sweet woman before him.

"S-Sorry," he breathes out with a weak smile.

A knowing smile shows on her face and she nods in understanding.

"Here alone?" she enunciates even better.

"No...you?" he asks, actually having a verbal conversation.

"I'm here with my partner, I'm Carla," Carla introduces herself with her wide smile.

This is one of the words he struggles the hardest with and he knows that because people often tell him it's not said correctly.

It's ironic because that word is his name and it's a weird joke to tell. He clears his throat again.

"Harry," he is almost tempted to start signing from here on.

He's been clearly gesticulating in the conversation and it's a thin line for him to descend into full British Sign Language.

The woman gives him a soft smile and she nods in understanding as she takes the initiative to figure out what the name obviously is. She lands on the most obvious word and quickly nods.

"That's a nice name, Harry," she says, hoping to be right.

"Yes," he awkwardly says, hoping he was right.

"You have a different accent, are you from the UK?" Carla smiles.

"Yes," Harry is loving these one word replies he can easily provide.

"Amazing, I'm American," she rolls her eyes.

The waiter waves at her and she breathes out in relief, excited about her food. Harry catches her reaction and turns to see the waiter saying stuff to her.

Carla catches the little hearing aid nestled in his ear as he turns and her suspicions make more sense.

Harry points at the waiter with a smile and turns back to Carla.