Broken Misery (H.Styles Fanfic)

Chapter 19

I'm so sorry for the delay❤

-Katexx

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Chapter 19

 “So, am I a superstar yet?”

He glares. “No. But I think some people might have seen us together at your school and at the mall,” he mumbles while chewing, turning the screen for me to see. Though not a single picture has leaked, or at least not to our current knowledge, most messages sent to my account ask how I know Harry Styles, and if yes, how. “It’s nothing we should be concerned about yet. I’ll call management and they’ll handle it.”

It has never even crossed my mind that hanging out in public places could result in getting Harry recognized to a point where I would also be. Some people had seen Liam and I in the spring when we’d gone shopping and visit the city, wondering who the mystery girl was, but it hadn’t gone any further. Now, over fifty thousand people seemed to know, or at least think they know, who I am. 

Since Harry doesn’t seem too concerned about this, I simply nod and he hands me my laptop back, his hands going straight for the food he’d temporarily abandoned. 

From above the lid of my computer, the hundreds of crumbles falling from Harry’s mouth catch my eye. He doesn’t seem preoccupied or paying any attention to the mess he’s doing since his eyes are crossed and fixing the Nutella toast in his hand, a full drop if the chocolate dripping down his chin and another one on his bare chest. By now, the crumbles are probably pooling at his feet and I’m sure that when he’s ready to leave the living room, he’ll get up, step on them and pretend half of them aren’t glued under his feet and spreading through the entire house. 

I cringe when a massive, all melted chocolate drop falls directly on the floor from the toast. Harry looks down at it, his mouth stopping mid bite, and I can’t really see what he’s doing but as he wipes the corner of his mouth with his thumb, though completely missing the Nutella on his chin, and his leg moves. His. Leg. Moves. And it doesn’t only move as though he’s shifting for his leg not to get numb. I can sense the movement from here; I can see the drop of Nutella spread under his toe as he wipes it carelessly, the chocolate setting between the minuscule particles of the rug. 

But the worst is when he wets his thumb with his tongue, bends down a little and brings his foot up against his other knee, and wipes the chocolate off of his big toe, and then cleans his thumb on his boxers. 

“Fuck no,” I hiss at him, closing the lid of my laptop at the same time. He looks up, mid bite again with his eyebrows reaching his hairline. “You’re cleaning that.”

“Cleaning what?”

I examine the rug closely where the round stain has settled right by his feet. At the same time I notice a tattoo on his toe that I’ve never really noticed before, but then again with the amount of tattoos covering his body, I’m not surprised to find one in such a random area. “You’re going to go get some cleaning product, a rag, and you’re going to clean this.”

When I look up, he still hasn’t move to comply. Harry watches me with surprised eyes as if I’m stupid, or as if I’m the one with a Nutella stain on the chin. Yes, it’s still there. “Can’t I finish my toasts first?”

“No, because the stain will set! If you don’t clean it now we’ll have to take the rug to the dry-cleaners and it’ll cost you a freaking fortune, Harry.”

He rolls his eyes. “Then I’ll pay.”

“God, you’re impossible,” I yell. 

I push my laptop to the side and jump to my feet when Harry doesn’t move from his seat. He doesn’t move when I look through the cupboards for cleaning products; he doesn’t move when I turn on the faucet and wet the rag with hot water; he doesn’t move when I’m on my knees and furiously wiping the stain on the carpet until all we can see is the large wet circle from the water and Hertel. He does watch me, though. His eyes are piercing through my head as he licks his fingers and eats the last few crumbles of bread on his plate, but he doesn’t say anything.