Faking, Falling | Harrison Osterfield x Reader ✔

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Strangers stared at you and giggled with their partners, his friends said some stuff probably some insult, but you couldn't hear anything as your mind was full of embarrassment and heart well... broken. Harrison then walked closer to you, you wanted to move away but your legs were frozen as ice. He slowly pushed those wet curls behind your ears and used his finger to wipe off some alcohol that was dripping from your chin. He leaned in again, whispering close to your ear—

"Sorry, darling but I don't do feelings. And anyways you are not my type of girl."

That's when you pushed away his chest and tried to run, only to trip over the beer and fall on the floor. He stretched his hand in your direction but you rejected it.

"Ooh, sass." One of his friends booed. You looked at Harrison one last time with tears bursting out of your eyes. He wasn't laughing anymore and that made everything worse.

Sympathy? Haha, really?

No way!

You ran out of the door and drove home in your little drunk state. You don't remember what happened after that, maybe you slept but the one thing you knew clearly was that you fell for the wrong guy and he definitely was not your type either. But you also knew that it would take time to get over him and accept every sweet moment with him was fake and part of that bigger prank. His dates, him dropping you home on busy days, him bringing you coffee, him telling you that you looked lovely, him telling how great your costume designs were, him bringing some new recipe he tried, him taking you roller skating and what not.

Truly a magic boy who knew nothing but cheap tricks.

***

Right now, you were getting ready to go home. Being a costume designer on set was a good start, although you joined in late and had nothing much to do rather than working on old designs that the previous designer left, yet it was your first big project.

You had to clear away everything because your assistant was on leave— your other friend Simon. You were already getting late because of the extra work you had to do on his behalf and were just about to step outside the door of your little room when you collided with Harrison.

The lenses of your spectacles pressed against your cheeks getting them covered in your moisturizer that covered your face, making them blurry. You didn't look up, rather got to the side, mumbling a 'sorry', rubbing the lenses from the edge of your top.

"I guess it's time for getting another eye checkup, specky."

That was his new thing— making fun of trivial things. Idiot, trying too hard.

"I said sorry and my vision is perfectly fine!" You said pretending to be super confident.

"That's why you wear them?" Harrison chuckled, pointing at your spectacles. You wore them back looking directly at his face.

"For your kind information Mister Harrison Osterfield, more than thirty percent of humanity wears glasses. Let alone so many people on this set, even our director. You can't just make fun of me, especially when I only need them at the time of drawing or sewing. It's even a fashion symbol!" You stated like a diplomat, but it felt as if your words fell on deaf ears. He didn't care to hear you, rather started scrolling through his phone. You sighed at the lack of response.

"Okay now get out of the door, I need to go home."

"George wanted to see you though. That's why I came here." He said without even looking away from the screen, getting inside the room from the side.

So, what was that argument for? You sighed yet again, walking to George's office, the director on set.

"Harrison said you called for me." You got inside the office, seeing George already packing up.