No Control • hs

twenty-four

We walked in the door that led straight to the food court, hands still intertwined. There was a plastic play structure right smack dab in the middle of the dome-shaped food court. Shopping cures every sickness for me, even if I have the flu, I'm going shopping no matter what, especially if someone takes me for no reason.

"Why would you bring me shopping out of all boy-ish things you could've picked?"

"Since when did shopping become just a girl-ish thing?" Harry took a step back and crossed his arms.

"I mean, this was the last place I would've thought you would take me to."

"I chose mini golf already, plus most girls like to shop. I'm very observant of you and your shopping, Starbucks, Victoria's Secret, the fluffy boots...it's all common stuff."

"I don't know if I'm more blown away by you willing to go to the mall or that you know what Victoria's Secret is."

"Uhm!"Harry clears his throat and begins talking in a high-pitched 'girly' manner. "Well, down the mall to your right is only my go-to! Their new bra- line is to die for! Who doesn't want multi-colored lace bra-lets with crystals on it?" He giggles.

"Harry." I shake my head, burying my face in my palms.

"Was that guy talking about bras?" A blonde kid half the size of Harry butts in. The way he said bras cracks me up, he made them sound like a death trap; which they are sometimes.

"Oh, no, just go keep playing." Harry says, waving him off.

"No! You were talking about bras! And you're a guy!"

I start in, "I was telling him about the latest line. It has more support than ever before. Do you want to hear about it?" I add, trying to save Harry the embarrassment.

"No! Gross!" Oh children and their 'cooties'.

"I think you would be an A-1 cup." I say.

"What's that supposed to mean?" The boy says, brows knit together.

"Dude, would you stop yelling and chill out? I'm talking about bras here." He crosses his arms over his chest and I carry on explaining the alphabet of bra sizes to a five year old...oh, and the blonde kid too.

"Kyle! Don't run off like that! You scared me half to death!" A voice emerges from behind the play structure.

"Mommy! This girl is talking about bras to me and she is calling me names!" The boy whines.

"What kind of names?" The mother looks up at Harry and I and gives me a weird stare.

"She called me an A-1 cup." My face turns beet red and the mother immediately turns around and walks away with the kid. I feel like crying I'm so embarrassed.

"I'm sorry!" I yell to them but the mom just looks back, smiles and shakes her head, mouthing 'your fine.' I turn to Harry and we head to the Chick-fil-a. "How is it fine? I literally just taught your five year old son bra sizes!" Harry chuckles and we reach the line. "What do you want?" I ask, flipping through my wallet.

"No, I'll pay, it's fine, don't worry about it."

"What if I want to pay though?" I raise my eyebrows, crossing my arms.

"You aren't." Harry retorts, not maintaining eye contact.

"Harry just--"

"Chicken sandwich and waffle fries and..." Harry turns to me. "The same thing?" I roll my eyes and nod slowly.

***

"Thanks again for paying." I say, walking to throw my trash away.

"No big deal." We wipe our hands clean as we walk toward the stores.

"Next time, I'm paying."

"We'll see." Harry smirks. He always smirks when he says something clever, it wasn't that clever though. Oh well, he's Harry.

I roll my eyes. "How many times do you think you roll your eyes per day?" Harry asks, pretty seriously. "I'm kidding." He says. "But you might want to stop, they might roll to the back of your head."

We come up to a 'Caution: Wet Floor' sign. My flooded apartment flashes back to me, Niall and Zayn invade my thoughts and I stand in the food court, breathing unevenly. I get a hot flash and I feel lightheaded. My body is becoming numb. "Peyton!" I see people's eyes stare as my vision starts blurring. Someone runs over, he looks like a mall cop. "I think she's having a panic attack." Harry says through muffled voices. I was. Harry had done this to take my mind off the apartment, not to distract me from sickness.

Harry's arms pick me up and I examine his tattoos. I just stare at his arms and it relaxes my troubled mind for a while. I feel myself being sat on a chair. I look into Harry's emerald eyes, they calm me with their subtle color, I see worry in his eyes. I slow my breathing and my hot flash goes away. Everything around me comes back into focus. "Are you alright?"

I nod. "Thank you."

"For what?" Harry rubs my back.

"For everything."