Broken Misery (H.Styles Fanfic)

What happens in Tesco stays in Tesco

A Chapter in their lives...

For the hundredth time since we got to Tesco, I take out what Harry just put in the cart-my apologies, the trolley-and put it back on the shelf. My long sigh doesn't go unnoticed, but really, who needs four packs of chocolate chips cookie mix?

"What if you make one batch and it fails? You burn it and bam, no more," he argues with a pout, taking the three packs I just put back up. "At least you'll have other packs and you can make more."

I roll my eyes. "If I burn my cookies, I'll just take it as a cue that I wasn't meant to bake them, and I'll make them another time when I buy a pack."

He throws the packs back in the cart anyway and winks. "Well, I'll want more so you're gonna make them for me."

Again, I roll my eyes and push the cart further. Usually, Harry is the one to push the cart. Not that he didn't offer to do it this time, because we argued for over five minutes at the door on who was going to push the cart. He always does it, and we always end up with too much junk and not enough actual food. Today I won by telling him that I wouldn't be giving him any sex for the weekend-in other words, the entire duration of his stay- and he simply threw his hands in the air and mumbled, "Jesus, woman. No need to get your knickers in a twist." I scolded him.

Harry wanders happily in the cereal aisle, pulling different boxes from the shelves and dropping them in the overloaded cart. I sigh when the fifth box is put on top of all the things. "Harry! You're here for the weekend! How are you going to eat all of those within three days?"

He shrugs. "I won't. But at least the cupboard won't be empty when I'm back for good."

I raise an eyebrow. "That's in a month, Haz. They're going to be expired by the time you come back for good. Put them back and stop touching everything, otherwise we'll never be out of here."

So he listens like the good boy that he is and places the boxes back on their respective shelf, but the smirk on his face doesn't face. I'm about to ask what the hell he finds so funny about acting like a five-year-old in the middle of a store when he comes behind me and places his hands next to mine on the cart. My breath hitches when I feel his chest pressing against my back, pushing me forward but in a different way than just helping me push the heavy cart.

When his lips make contact with my ear, my heart stops. "And why are you so eager to be home soon? Got anything in mind?"

From this angle, he can't see my face, so I pretend that the blush creeping on my cheeks isn't affecting me. "Yeah, like kicking your butt," I mutter, and I'm proud of myself for sounding so confident. He's hardly been back for two hours and the little shit is already being cocky.

"Yeah?" he whispers, biting at my earlobe, and I quickly look around to make sure no one saw that. And well, no one seems to be paying much attention at the pop star practically raping me in the aisle. "You like to touch my bum, don't you, babe?"

His fabulous butt... "No clue what you're talking about."

"Sorry, then. Let me give you a little reminder," he chuckles, removing his hand from the cart. I jump and squeal when he grabs my ass and gives a firm tap where he squeezed.

"Harry!"

He growls in my ear and laughs. "At least you know what name you'll be screaming later." A chill runs through my body. Is it just me or the entire store just got very hot?

We travel in the second to last aisle-milk, eggs, and cheese. I'm just grateful for the refrigerators to cool me down a little. Harry stays behind me, still tightly pressed against my back, and I barely have enough room to move to pick a dozen eggs.