☆ "Harry styles?"

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Just imagine, you're a fan. Harry doesn't know you and you too—don't know him personally.

You boarded the bus for the means of travelling back home from work, sitting in a seat far away from the entrance. Your mood was running offbeat—the clients from work roaming around in your head.

You sauntered past Harry styles, oblivious to the fact that it was really him.

I repeat, you stomped past Harry styles.

He momentarily glanced up at you, just as he sensed a person coming towards the empty section of the bus, and then three seconds later looked out of the window—simply, an impulse. He had his earphones stuffed in his ears.

You sat in the seat right behind him.

There were a plenty of jerks through the journey. But two, particularly, stood out for you. One, being a harsh impact of sudden brakes which leaded a set of keys to jingle around you. The person ahead of you had dropped his keys. They seemed posh, the keys I mean. It was Harry's car keys—his car was in repair hencing his bus ride.

Harry didn't seem to be aware of this.

You picked up his set and ducked between the seats to tap the person on the shoulder. You were being generous enough by returning a strangers his keys, despite of your mood being grumpy.

That's where the second jerk came in—it was a mental jerk. You couldn't help but pale up noticing the person who had just turned his head responding to your touch.

It was Harry styles. Harry styles. You blinked. This is a dream, you wondered, I'm dreaming right? Can somebody slap me?

Harry took out one of his earphones and cocked his head to a side to properly look at you. “May I help you?” His face was nuetral. He wasn't annoyed. That was a good sign.

Fucking hell, pull your shit together June. Not a time to over react, you mentally facepalmed.

You cleared your throat and fimbled with the set of keys, dangling them in front of his eyes. “Um, I found them on the floor.” You tried to smile but the shock wasn't letting you do it.

His lips turned into a “O” shape while he blinked in return. Seconds later he was gibbering out “thank you's” and “sorry's” before gently grabbing onto his keys. He was thankful of you. His face couldn't hide the sheepish, embarrassed smile that managed to make him blush.

“Oh and, um thank you again. It was really kind of you.” He finished, smiling. And you immediately nodded your head appreciating his thank you, not being able to speak.

You hadn't heard a word he said, just the last part. Your mind had completely stopped functioning, body already on autopilot mode which screamed “DON'T EMBARRASS YOURSELF, IDIOT!”

Rest being completely unimportant, he turned back in his seat and you settled into your own. Apparently you were in trauma. It was Harry fucking styles, sitting right ahead of you.

You were into too much shit to even fangirl. It was hard to believe. It was amusing thought, how your thoughts had swung from work stress to Harry styles in a matter of minutes.

Exactly twenty seven minutes later, his stop arrived and he unnoticeably exited the vehicle, owing you a small wave before completely disappearing from your view.

You couldn't help but think, did Harry just literally wave at me?

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