"Harry, this is getting ridiculous," I sighed in to my phone.
"So, I'm guessing you got the flowers?" Harry smirked on the other line.
I rolled my eyes. "More like the flowers got me. Jesus, where did you even get a boquet this big?"
"It's a secret," he laughed. I sighed again. Ever since we had that strange conversation before the radio interview a few weeks ago, Harry's been on this stupid little mission to "prove" himself to me. Actually, I didn't even know exactly what he was trying to prove. Whatever it was, it involved a lot of gifts.
This insanely large boquet of flowers that I just discovered in my car was the latest in a plethora of Harry's tricks to try to woo me. Others included chocolate roses, stuffed animals, a gorgeous pair of Louis Vuitton heels(which were probably ridiculously expensive), a gift card to a Chinese restaurant, six more copies of the Breakfast Club, a signed picture of himself, and a hardcover copy of my favorite book, although I have no idea how he found out what that was.
Most of those had come with an offer to go out on a date with him, but I politely declined him every time, although I had seriously considered it when he gave me the Louis Vuitton's. But for some reason, he thought this was some sort of game, and would just laugh when I would refuse and continue spending ridiculous amounts of money on presents for me.
"Seriously Harry, this is cute and all, but it's getting out of hand," I responded, my eyes on the road as I headed home from a long day of a read-through with my client, Perrie, of her new script, then going with Niall to a photoshoot and interview promoting his new album, and finally a meeting with Modest! to discuss some new reforms. I had found the flowers in the backseat of my car after the Modest! meeting, and while of course I had been flattered, it was starting to get old.
"Well, you should probably not go home then," Harry said, and I swear I could hear him grinning through the phone.
I groaned. "Oh, god."
"Oh, come on Ashton, don't act like you don't like all this."
"Don't call me that," I said, but I couldn't help but chuckle.
"I'll do what I want. I'm a rebel."
"I don't even want to know what you did to my house."
"Ashton Anne Winter--"
"That's not my middle name."
"Ashton Anne Winter. I know you like this attention."
"Harold Edward Styles--"
"How do you know my middle name?"
"Harold Edward Styles. What did you do to my house?"
He laughed, though I didn't know if it was directed towards me copying him or me asking what he did. "Oh, nothing," he said mischeviously.
"Well, I'll find out in a minute," I mumbled as I pulled into my driveway and pulled the key out of the ignition. Harry giggled.
"Stay on the line. I want to hear your reaction," he instructed. I groaned. This could not be good.
I made my way up to my door, the only sounds being my feet tapping the pavement and Harry's light breathing on the other end of the call.
As I slipped my house key into the lock, I said, "I swear to god, Harry, if this is another--" I paused mid-sentence and sucked in deep when I opened the door. "Oh my god."
