DUO || Harry Styles

1

 And I mean never. 

 It took an extremely awkward kiss to establish that. We both came to a mutual agreement that our relationship would be purely platonic for the rest of our lives. Such a shame, it would have been nice to be with someone who understood me like she did.

Or just as tall as I was.

 I'm sure if she stood on her toes, stretched her arms real tall, she could bring down a star.

"I hope you plan on returning that." I nodded at Kim, pointing at the band tee before biting into the glazed delicacy. Every shirt of mine she took went into abyss. I never got to see them again, unless they were on her.

She flashed me a toothy grin, "I'll think about it."

"Styles, unless you want John to kick our asses, we need to get going." Mitch called, tapping at his watch. "Already 20 minutes behind." He added, mostly to himself. He took me by the arm and pulled me along.

"I mean it, Kim!" I managed to say through chewed up pieces of donut.

Mitch led me through an endless hallway before we finally met with large glass doors. I could see that the meeting had already commenced. Men and women sat themselves around an oval shaped table. Some faces were unfamiliar. Others, I may have seen once or twice. As for names — I knew one. John Hector.

Because he was the only man I knew with two first names.

And because he was sorta kinda my manager.

Mostly because he was the only man I knew with two first names.

 Mitch and I stepped in and the entire room shifted. Every head turned, it felt like.

"Nice of you both to join us." John's tone was firm. It was clear that he wasn't happy with fashionably late entrance. He gave Mitch a piercing glare, "I sent you to get him well over 40 minutes ago. Glad to see you remain incompetent with directions."

"Traffic was heavy." Mitch lied, sounding unsure of himself. "And then there was that hold up with the driver." He whipped his head to look at me.

"Yeah," I shoved my hands into my jean pockets, an uncomfortable smile dancing on my lips, "He had like all this nausea, and something was up with his bowels. There was this huge accident in the limo where he was all like.."

"Throw up. Just throw up and terrible gas." Mitch added. He began scrunching his face up into a grimace and I did the same in attempt to recollect the fake events.

"I'm pretty sure he's alright now." I reassured the audience. "But trust us, it was not a pretty —"

"Just sit down, both of you." John demanded not convinced nor amused. 

There was a small laugh from the far end of the table as we grabbed our chairs and took our seats. I turned my head in search of the culprit who was clearly entertained by our failed attempt to save our asses. She bit down on her lip to hide her amusement and we made eye contact, but she was first to break it off with a clear of her throat. I already knew who she was without the introduction.

Duo Whatchamicallit.

My eyes were still on her. The young woman had dark bedroom eyes, dark hair falling into them, dark brows. Her lips touched pink, and her nose thin. Her face was familiar. Maybe I've seen her at an event? I'm sure I would have remembered her.