The Artist

Chapter Thirteen

I pace back and forth the room. What am I doing?

This is ridiculous. I barely know him. He's horrible to me. But I can't stop thinking about him. And I've just agreed to stay here, in this hotel room with him.

I go to grab my jacket from my bag. My bag. Shit. I left it outside the goddamn elevator on the top floor.

I grab the key card and run. I catch the door just before it shuts and step inside, hitting the button for the top floor. I give the lady in the lift a friendly smile as she gets off two floors up.

I take one step out of the elevator and run right into someone. I look up to see a huge man in front of me. Hes essilly six foot five, with shoulders as broad as I've ever seen. His head is bald and he's dressed in a black tuxedo.

"Sorry." I say and try walking out of his way. He outstretches his arm and pushes me back.

"Floor's restricted." His voice is deep and hoarse. But not like Harrys, in an intimidating and rough way.

"Ok, but I just need to get my bag. I left it here earlier." I can literally see my bag, I push past him again and I'm shoved back. My body hits against the elevator door behind me.

"Are you deaf? Restricted floor." He growls, his eyes forming narrow slits, like a snakes.

"Christ. Fine! Can you just past me my damn bag?" I point behind him. He turns to look then hisnpath of vision is returned to me.

"No. Now can you fuck off back to wherever you came from before I have to use force." His voice raises slightly.

"Don't speak to me like that! You have some nerve." I raise my voice too. Who the hell is this guy. "Either you're giving me my bag or I'm taking it!" I shout and he raises his fist.

"What the fuck?" I hear someone curse. "Jesus Christ. Back the fuck away from her." He snaps at the man. To my surprise, he listens to Harry and takes a step back from me. "What in fucks name are you doing here?" He growls in my ear.

"Getting my bag." I say smugly. He rolls his eyes and I can tell, of we were anywhere else, I'd be getting an earful.

He picks up my bag and shoves it in my hand. He smile happily at him and he shoots me a warning glare, putting me in my place.

"Raise a hand to her, or any other woman again and you're out of a job." Harry spits venomously at the man.

"Fuck off Styles."

"Wanna say that to Harper?" Harry barks and he shuts up. "Come on." He takes my elbow and pulls me into the elevator.

He's silent the entire way down and the length of the walk to our room. I decide not to talk to him. The way his nostrils flare when he breathes and his fists clench as he walks tell me he's not happy.

He uses his card to open the door. I follow him in, setting the bag that caused all the trouble down on the table. He walks over to the window and when he hears the door click shut, he let's rip.

"What the fuck Ellen?!" He snaps, throwing his arms up in the air. "Jesus! Do you know how close you were to being fisted in the face?! Do you know how dangerous that was?" I jump back when he shouts. He notices and sighs out loud.

"I'm sorry. Maybe if you hadn't left me here I'd have-"

"Don't blame me! I'm not always gonna be there to save your ass when you walk into trouble!" He walks towards me.

"I don't need you to be! Anyway what was going on up there!?" I bark back. He must think he's my night in shining armor! Far from it.

"I think you do." He says, his voice lowering to a normal level.