Until you came (Zarry) /English Version

6. The Invitation

 "Good evening," I croak and take a seat opposite.

 An embarrassing silence fell. The blonde politely interrupts it. 

"Your home is very pleasant. We're still unpacking and there's no end in sight," she says in a high-pitched voice. 

What an interesting information, it comes to mind. I hope she doesn't talk nonsense like that all night. 

"I know what you mean. If you need help, just let us know. We will be pleased to help you," Gigi replies. 

What? I can't believe this lady. Why should I help them?

 "I think the Styles are doing pretty well without us, don't they Berry?" I just couldn't help myself.

 Interrupted from his thoughts, the curly head looking around. 

"Uhm, my name is Harry." 

A malicious smile is on my lips. The evening will be very amusing, I think. Gigi serves the red wine and puts a plate of food on the table.

 "Please, help yourself," she encourages the guests.

 Harry hesitantly takes a piece of meat from the plate and turns it back and forth between his fingers. 

"That's meat, Berry. It's edible." 

I irritate him and my wife's giving me the evil eye. 

 "Uhm, of course, Wayne," he replies dryly. 

Wayne? Did he just call me Wayne?  I fix my eyes on him and see a mischievous sparkle. That son of a bitch. He bites the food with relish and licks his pink lips with his tongue. Harry is aware of this. He moans and runs his tongue over his lips again. I look away and take a sip of red wine. 

"Tell us something about your life" Gigi says.

 Taylor is relieved and starts reporting. She works as a designer for a big fashion label, she is often on the road...general bla bla bla...What a boring little person. Her flow of words is unstoppable. Our women get along - much to my displeasure. Taylors voice annoys me. It is squeaky. So I'm attending to her husband and hope that he is not such a bore.

"Berry, what do you do for a living ?" I start the conversation.

 "Are you working in the fashion industry too?" 

Harry raises his head, stares at me and grins cheekily. 

"You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?" he asks. 

"What do you mean, Berry?" 

I'm pretending to be naive. I was starting to enjoy the evening.

 "Listen, Wayne," he whispers and his voice gives me goose bumps.

 It is velvety and deep. 

"My name isn't Wayne," I hiss back.

 Our eyes meet.

 "And my name isn't Berry, Darling," he whispers across the table. 

What did he just call me? Darling?  I gasp for air. 

When he bent over to me, I had the perfect view of his exposed chest. The designers could have saved themselves the button placket with him. He didn't buttoned up. His skin is slightly tanned and covered with tattoos. Wow. I am impressed for a brief moment. I didn't expect that. That was, probably his intention. He seemed like a bore for me. He seems to be able to read my thoughts. He leans back and stretches himself a little, so that his shirt covered almost nothing. My eyes fall out of my head at the sight. I clear my throat in embarrassment. Harry obviously enjoys this game and still grins.