Saving Styles

Sinatra & Shelves

Harry's POV

I locked my truck as I walked across the parking lot towards Hannah and Ashley's apartment. It was Tuesday morning and Brian had called me the night before, saying Ashley had been nagging at him to fix some stuff around her place and he could use a hand. My day wasn't too busy so I offered to stop by in the morning and see what they needed.

Someone was coming out as I approached the door, so I just went right in and up the elevator to the fifth floor like he'd told me. As I stepped off the elevator, I recognized the soft sound of Frank Sinatra coming down the hallway and I smiled to myself at the randomness of it. I'd always been a music lover, of all kinds. Music had always been a way that I could find words that described how I felt, since I'd never been good at it for a multitude of reasons. I could put on a song and feel the lyrics, whatever mood I was in. Frank Sinatra just happened to be someone who had provided some very fond and short-lived memories of dancing with my sister and my grandmother in the living room when I was little.

It got louder as I neared the end of the hallway, realizing it was coming from Hannah and Ashley's apartment. I laughed and shook my head as I knocked, I assumed the girls were at school so I was trying to imagine Brian listening to Sinatra, he had never been one to appreciate the classics. I knocked again, realizing he probably couldn't hear me knock over the music, so I tried the door and it was unlocked. I poked my head in and looked around for Brian as I entered.

"Hello? Stoner?" I called out.

The music seemed to be coming from the kitchen along with the familiar smell of breakfast. There was no way Brian was cooking so I realized one of the girls must be home. I made my way to the kitchen, peering around the corner as I saw Hannah by the stove.

I leaned against the doorframe as I watched her for a minute, dancing along to 'I Won't Dance' barefoot in a t-shirt that went down to the middle of her thighs. I couldn't help smiling to myself as she danced around, moving her hips and shoulders along with the music as hummed along with the song. Her hair was in a pile on top of her head and she looked to be having quite a time alone in her kitchen.

She turned around to grab a plate from the cupboard and jumped when she saw me.

"Jesus Christ!" She yelled as pure horror crossed her face, before she recognized me and let out a relieved chuckle. "You scared the shit out of me." She laughed as she clutched her chest and tried to get her breathing back to normal.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. You okay?" I asked as I took a step towards her, putting my hand on her shoulder. I felt bad I'd scared her, but she looked adorable as she looked up at me and laughed.

She got a look of realization on her face as she looked around and realized what she'd been doing. She turned to turn the music down, but only slightly, before she nervously pulled at the bottom of her t-shirt. Her cheeks got slightly pink as she went back over to the stove and took the pan off the heat.

"How long were you standing there?" She laughed.

"Long enough." I chuckled. "You like Sinatra?" I asked as I handed her the plate she'd dropped on the counter after I'd scared her.

"Who doesn't?" She scoffed as she put a pancake on her plate and took a bite of bacon as she turned to face me.

"Losers, that's who." I laughed.

She smiled and nodded her head in agreeance. "Obviously."

I heard the familiar instruments of 'New York, New York' come through the speakers as she poured syrup on her pancakes and I stood behind her. I smiled to myself as I cleared my throat behind her so she turned to face me. I put my hand out in front of me in a gesture to dance, she smiled put down her plate. She took my hand and let me spin her around, before she came back to face me and I placed my hand on her back.