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"I'm gonna stick like glue
Stick, because I'm
Stuck on you"


We've locked up the bar this Wednesday, and it's been three days since my little meltdown over my mother's anniversary tomorrow - however, that's the last thing on my mind right now.

I look at Harry, finishing stacking the stools and lean against the bar from my place behind it, drumming my fingers against it and wonder why he'd keep something like this from me.

I've been honest with him about the important things, I've told him things I've barley told another soul - or not told anyone but him, trusted him with my most private secrets so I don't understand why he wouldn't tell me this.

Omission is the same as lying, when it's intentional, I should know - I've been guilty of it before, but I know Harry wouldn't keep something from me without a good reason, I just can't figure out what the reason is.

I've been wracking my brain about it since I found out on Monday.

I trust him more than anyone I've ever met, but I'd be lying if I said it didn't hurt when I found out he had kept this from me, mainly just from confusion as well, I thought he could tell me anything.

"Harry... Can I talk to you for a minute?" I ask cautiously, and see his body freeze holding a stool at the tone of my voice.

He places the stool down slowly, turning apprehensively and there's worry written all over his face when he looks at me.

"Of course - what's wrong?" he asks, walking towards the bar as he swallows thickly.

I dart my eyes down to the bar as he reaches it and stands opposite me, resting his palms flat against it, but his eyes stay cemented on me with concern creased firmly in his brows.

"So... On Monday, I had to sign some paperwork, for your tax, since I'm not just paying you cash in hand anymore..." I start slowly but Harry cuts in.

"And like I keep telling you, you don't need to pay me to work here, not to mention I'm trying to pay you rent that you won't bloody take either but even then, that rent money is coming from you any way. You've done so much Joey, I owe you, I don't want the money"

"Of course I have to pay you - this is your job, you work, so that means you get paid and you don't owe me a damn thing Harry, understand? I helped because I wanted to and because I care, not so you would be indebted to me. You appreciate it and you show that every day, so we are even." I reply, looking at him like its ridiculous for him to think he could work as hard as he does and do it for free.

"I can get a second job" he tries to argue "I hate taking your money Joey"

"It's not my money, it's yours" I tell him firmly "Technically it's the customers paying you, not me - so it's not my money. You earn that money ten times over and I'd rather you get it than one of the useless twits I've hired to try and help me here"

He pouts and huffs petulantly, sticking his bottom lip out and I smile, unable to resist and lean over the bar poking his bottom lip.

"Besides, if you get a second job, it means I get to see less of you - unless that's what you're trying to do? Sick of me already are you pretty boy?" I tease, trying to sound convincing feigning being hurt but I have to scrunch my lips to fight my smile.

"Sick of you being such a smart ass" he squints, fighting his own smile and leans over the bar, stealing a quick peck to my lips "And by the way, I'll never get sick of you - you're gonna have to fight me off with a stick to keep me away from you. I keep telling you Joey - you're stuck with me"

Unforgettable |H.S.| Harry Styles|Where stories live. Discover now