Suit & Tie (Harry Styles au) [REPOSTED]

Chapter 51 - Knocking knees & tired talk

"That's great," I replied, nodding up and down and trying to sip my wine at the same time and how the fuck was I supposed to focus when Harry was still removing articles of clothing, this time the deep red tie from around his neck. I swallowed thickly and averted my eyes. "I'm glad it worked out."

"Once everything is final, we can be together. It will be normal."

I choked on my wine. "Is that — you want — what?"

"We can be together," he repeated, eyes cool and assessing as they settled on me, where I was choking unattractively with only a single seat cushion beside me. "Yes?"

It took a solid minute of me clearing my throat (and then another ten seconds of downing my drink) before I could respond. "I thought you didn't want that? Remember the whole not showing up to the hospital fiasco, then the whole walking out of the hospital shit? You don't have time for that, or whatever."

"That is why I hired the assistant, Norah." Harry snapped. He looked like he wanted to roll his eyes at me, but instead settled for clenching his jaw and resting back against the couch, the very expression of causal dominance. "Niall was right that I could make time. You were right."

At the point in the conversation, all sense of the English language had slipped from the corners of my mind, because there was no way to even begin to think about what Harry was saying. The apologies slipped out smoothly, backed by a soft, steady voice, and they came too easily.

Really, the entire situation seemed as if it were too easy. I'd seen Harry fire someone for calling him too late, and I'd seen him take complete control over a room simply by setting a foot in the doorway. Whatever this was, it was too easy. It didn't make sense.

I gave him a disbelieving look. "Are you drunk?"

He finally gave into the eye roll he'd been holding back and set down his wine. "No, Norah. Everything can be put into simple terms. I will make time for you, for us, and you will have your side of the bed. There are drawbacks, yes, but we will still both benefit."

"Don't spit out all that business shit at me, Harry. This isn't some kind of deal we're making."

"I know it's not."

"Well, it sounds like that's what you're making it into. Like, benefits and drawbacks? That's not how normal people talk about relationships. Like it's some kind of investment deal where we're both going to make money off of."

His expression faltered, lips turning down and eyes softening slightly. "I don't know how to talk about it."

"Why'd you call then?" I implored. "You must know what you want to say if you called. I know you. You wouldn't invite me over if you weren't sure."

Harry stared silent. I watched as he brushed his thumb over his cheekbone before moving his hands to slide through his hair, combing through the soft curls before gently tugging on the ends. His eyes dropped to both of our now empty glasses on the table.

The grandfather clocked ticked somewhere in the background, and this was probably a stupid fucking idea to come because Harry was still so, so quiet, his hands now gripping onto his knees, fingers going white at the knuckles in strain.

My eyes trailed up his arm to where the black imprints could be seen faintly through the expensive fabric, to the undone button on his collar, then over his clenching jaw before finally settling on his eyes. Contrary to the purple bruises beneath them, his gaze was clear and steady.

"You're staring," He said quietly.

I flinched back. "God, I'm so —"

"Do not apologise, Norah."