DUO || Harry Styles

2

H. Styles

So that was it. We were a duo. Harry Styles was now Harry and Dua, or was it Dua and Harry? They both sounded quite horrible to me however you said it. The meeting went on for well over an hour, going over the schedule we were to follow, requirements we were to meet. I was to give up my habits — staying in less, getting out more. We were supposed to be attached at the hip. Attending events together, studio time together, checking out the same hotels. The changes were to be made immediately with a release of the news all over the internet. There was even an event in our honor tonight at what was described as a vast warehouse somewhere in Upper East side New York. Invites were already sent out a day in advance, as if John knew that I'd agree, and a personal stylist was sent to prep me. The rules were placed. Everyone had a role to play.

"She's actually pretty hot, Harry." I was bombarded with Google images of the dark haired Dua Lipa when Kimberly shoved my own cell in my face.

"You too?" I huffed, yanking my phone from her grip and advancing to the mirror of the suite's bathroom. My face twisted in disapproval and my hands went to mess with my hair until it was fit to my liking. The stylist had combed it so far back, anyone would've genuinely mistaken me for John Hector. No offense but forty something year old married man wasn't exactly the look I was going for.

My tired eyes followed Kimberly in the mirror. She was plopped on the bed, pizza stuffed her face, clicking away at her Macbook. The short red dress she wore was fitted, hugging at her hips, revealing a figure I rarely saw during her working hours as an intern. Her tall heels were clear, complimenting her long tanned legs. I shook my head and focused on my own simple clothing. A white cotton button down with perfectly rolled up sleeves accompanied by dark jeans and a pair of boots. There wasn't much to it. I decided to join Kimberly on the bed.

"Seriously, I mean look at her." She was now facing the laptop in my direction, revealing yet another cluster of photos. "Have you heard Be the One? Extremely catchy."

Kim began to hum the unfamiliar tune and I groaned in utter annoyance. "If I have to see her face one more time, I think I might explode."

As if on cue, the door creaked open and in peered the brunette through the small space of the door. Except there wasn't an explosion.

Unfortunately.

I could only see the top of her, hair pulled back in a low style, soft subtle shadow around her eyes and a stain of pink at her already pinkish lips. They kept her simple just as me.

"Sorry, I was going to knock, but the door was left ajar.." Dua's voice trailed off, one of her thick brows raised, and I found her brown orbs focused on something that wasn't me.

I followed her eyes.

Shit.

I scrambled to shut Kimberly's laptop, and ran my hand over the top, patting it awkwardly before sliding the object away from me slowly. I felt the heat creep at my neck as I began to scratch at my head. It was said it only took four seconds to create an uncomfortable silence. Well, how did the rules apply to ten?

I could hear what I presumed to be the shuffling of her feet, and her eyes were in search for another place to set her sights on before continuing, "The limo is out front.. John Hector wants us to leave the hotel together. He says the paparazzi is out there and that some camera time would be good for us."

I wanted to say something.

Anything would do, actually.

Why wasn't I saying anything?