"How am I supposed to pretend
I never want to see you again?" -Vampire Weekend, Campus.

Yesterday, my mother informed me about the guests visiting for lunch for some financial matter. I had settled with one simple dress myself before she could pick one. My mother also requested me to do her manicure and I happily agreed. I was willing to do anything to get my mind out of the other day.

That day I had driven straight to the female restrooms, trying to calm myself down. Unaware of the time, it took me an hour in there which got Gemma and Iris looking all over the golf club except the rest rooms. How smart.

I did not bother to apply much make-up as my only duty was to welcome them and leave. The house was assembled
nicely, the fragrance of fresh lavender lingered in the air. A fresh sign that the people visiting were no ordinary ones. The person responsible for any mistake would be in massive trouble.

The guest arrived in nice suits and elegant dresses, showing the class they belonged to. I greeted the guests warmly and that was only when I had spotted the familiar faces. The Styles'.

I felt adrenaline pumping inside of me but mustered a smile anyway. I greeted all three of them, showing all the enthusiasm I could muster and did not glanced at the boy once; keeping the promise I had made. I felt proud of myself for my actions and determination and treated myself with a nice cup of frappe at a café, leaving the house full of people I had no desire to meet, at least for now.

Today, they showed up before I could acknowledge it. I was not granted time to change or even escape the place only to avoid the boy. They were all dressed casually. At least the three of them did, I ignored having a glance at the boy completely. My hair was in a messy up do, and I prayed they do not notice the slight greasy texture. Even in this cold I felt beads of sweat on my forehead and I blame it to the little working in the kitchen I did just to create a green tea I read about online.

I had no planning on settling down with them in the T.V lounge. I know how my eyes will betray me and gaze towards him and I wanted to avoid that.

"Where were you yesterday?" Gemma asks, tapping the area next to her. "We looked all over for you."

"Again," Iris adds.

Oh nowhere, I just went to treat myself at a café as an accomplishment for not looking at your idiotic brother.

"I, ah, something came up. I had to rush without informing." I lie, feeling a little guilty after that. "Sorry."

"It's alright," She waves a hand in front of her face. I felt guiltier for ignoring her offer to sit next to her, which also meant sitting in front of him. "I just wanted to ask your dress looked insanely gorgeous yesterday. Prada?" God, I should have gotten hold of her from the start and leave Iris with her own kind, Harry.

I chuckle fairly. "You're good." I point and a grin forms on her light orange coated lips.

"I knew it." She flips her hair dramatically. "You're my typa gal." She raises her left hand for me to slap at and I do just that. After that I settled on coach besides her and we had quite the deep discussion about a few brands and she rants about how people overdo their dressing making them look like Lady Gaga. I laughed too hard on that one. Iris and Harry accompany each other for while a before Iris breaks into our conversation.

"Don't you have to prepare the fruit tea of yours?" Iris looks at me, rolling her blonde hair in bun on top.

"It's green tea." I correct her and she mutters a 'whatever' under her breath.

"You make those?" Gemma takes my attention and I nod, feeling slightly proud.

"That's great, what type?" She inquires. Harry is looking at me; I can feel his burning gaze.

"Many, but I was just trying that cinnamon apple one."

"Really? Harry loves cinnamon." Oh.

"Wanna try some?" I offer her, ignoring her previous statement.

"I'd love to." Before I could exit the area, I hear Iris.

"Indie, won't you ask Harry?" Iris asks. This woman, I swear...

"I'm good." At being a bloody jerk? Yes!

I turn away after hearing his answer, not that I was going to wait anyway. I walk towards my room to change the annoyingly warm material shirt and switch it with a much thinner fabric. I make my way towards the kitchen, rolling my hair up into a more presentable up do.

The green eyes, that I've had been successful at avoiding were the first thing that caught my site when I entered the kitchen. My blood had wasted no time in rushing to my head. He was leaning against the counter, a glass filled with water in his hands. I look away, calming myself.

"Ah, Mrs. Barton?" I speak, trying to divert my attention towards something else.

"Yes." She turned, wiping the beads of sweat on her forehead with the back of her hand.

"I can't seem to find the cinnamon powder." I inform. "I remember telling Mr. Barton to bring some when he leaves for the groceries."

"Why don't you try cinnamon sticks?" She offers, Harry watching me. "They are better and I assume more natural too."

I nod at her and she points towards the second last cabinet signaling me its placement. When I open the cabinet, the box is on the extreme top shelf and even on my heels we have 2 inches between us.

"Ah Mrs. Bart-"

"Let me help." Harry places the glass on the kitchen counter.

"No, it's al-" He gives me no time to protest and makes no struggle in handing me the box I wanted. A little part of me felt penitent for not saying a simple 'thank you' and I shrug it off.

He walks with me towards the stove and leans against the counter, keeping a fair distance between us. I felt like leaving but then he should be the one exiting the place, he had no business here.

"How long will it take?" My body stiffs at the lack if distance between us which I assumed was fair but his voice proved me wrong.

"Can you pass me that, please?" I ask Mrs. Barton, pointing at the green colored tea bag box and ignoring Harry's question. Why is he talking to me?

Mrs. Barton rubs her hand against the apron to remove any excess food on it and hands me the box. Harry's gaze was uncomfortably earnest. I return my focus on the appetizing aroma of cinnamon and apple.

"That smells good." Harry expresses and I exhale. What does he want? What problem does he has from me? I slide the saucepan to the cooler stove. Wincing at a simple touch which would have caused no harm, I gain his unwanted attention, again.

"You alright?" He asks and I ignore his comment, I don't know what else to do. My mind is mixing my decisions. It wants to turn around and leave but is confused about his behavior, and a tiny part wants me to stay here and wait for him to try gaining my attention again. I decide on getting two cups and leaving so this tense situation could come to an end, at least for now. I turn around to garb the two mugs, only to get cease by Harry.

"Um, excuse me?" I almost mumble it to myself, not willing to gaze at Harry. Harry doesn't moves, or says anything for a while and when I look at him; he has that devilish smirk I'm getting used to.

"You're pretty edgy, you know that?" He says.

"If you're here to throw insults at me then you can leave, I wouldn't care less." I wanted to walk past him but he was faster in blocking my way.

"No,"

"What no?"

"No, I'm actually here to offer you a drive to some ice cream parlor."

You scream, I scream, we all scream for Harry.
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