evergreen ↠ harry styles ✓

+19

The smile on her lips slid into a pouty line. The smile in her eyes faded like a rainbow after a storm. To River's ears the only sound in the room was her bottom against the leather armchair as she sat down, and the pitter-patter of her fingertips against the flat and smooth arm rest.

"Why do you hold a grudge against me?" she asked him, and it stilled Harry into a frigid position. Surprise crawled to his features, set his jaw straight, his eyebrows softly furrowed. "If this is because of my initial lack of knowledge of your position within the company, I apologise."

"I don't hold a grudge against you," he said.

"Are you certain?" she pressed further, and kept her eyes on his face. Harry remained the same, starved for the challenge, it seemed. "You often make it clear that you believe I care for no one but myself."

"I do not do that," he argued, the supposed work he needed to get done on the back bench for the time being. Interesting, River concluded, how he chose to entertain this banter like it was easier to fall into conversation if they picked on each other than if they were to communicate like normal people. "How could I believe you do nothing for others when you helped me on multiple occasions?"

Harry was right and River felt silenced. It seemed to encourage Harry to continue to make a point. "I don't hold a grudge against you, and I certainly do not believe you only care for yourself."

"You make off comments, like before, and it completely contradicts what you're saying now," she pointed out, slightly confused. Heartbeat accelerated, palms covered in sweat. Something about this conversation made River nervous, almost like if they didn't find a common ground she'd never get to see him again.

"River," the way he said her name still seemed difficult to digest. Riv-uh. It took all of River's willpower to hold back the grin in the corner of her mouth. Above all else, she noticed another thing about him—how he only used her name when he tried to get her attention to say something important. "I'm taking the piss when I say that stuff. I don't mean it to come off rude or hurtful."

That sounded... better. More than that, it gave River some peace of mind.

"I'm pretty sure you don't need me to tell you all the good you do for others so please don't embarrass me by asking to do that," he smirked and pushed his chair back slightly, leaned back, fingers interlocked on his stomach. "You know," he added. "I never thought I'd be the one to give you a confidence boost."

Suddenly embarrassed, River leaned forward and took one of the cups of coffees for herself. "Be quiet," she mumbled, completely out of her comfort zone. She almost felt soft in Harry's presence, especially because she knew he watched her every move and most likely felt pleased with himself to know he had the upper hand.

"Is that for me?" he pointed to the other cup and leaned across the desk before River could've responded.

"Black like your soul," she answered before she tasted her coffee. Harry hummed and got comfortable in his chair, too. "I suppose it is also fitting for what I wanted to talk to you about."

"Just so you know, boss, this doesn't count for my break," he added as he pointed rapidly between them, a way to refer to this conversation.

"Why would I care when you take your break as long as you get your work done?" she asked him genuinely, somewhat taken aback by the irrelevance of this information. River held herself to a certain accountability and she always exercised the same principles with others. "Now, tell me, how do you approach and care for someone who is going through grief?"

"I'm sorry—do I look like a therapist?"

"No, you look like you're headed to a meeting when I precisely remember you telling me you didn't have any today," she said.