R O O M 1 9 7 // Harry Styles & Louis Tomlinson Edition

Six

~Saturday 24th December 2016~

09:33am

The city of Chicago buzzes with activity the week approaching Christmas - shoppers buying last minute presents for their loved ones, twinkling lights over every street and festive music playing from every store.
A woman carrying a handful of large shopping bags rushes past Harry, as he makes his way towards the entrance of The Magnolia Hotel, two takeaway cups of tea in his hand, turning to awkwardly wave at Harrison parked by the sidewalk, before entering the hotel with a joyful smile on his face.

Working for Mr Tomlinson has been such a good thing for Harry. He feels happy and appreciated in his work, something Mr Peckham could never offer him. Harry passes the hotel manager in the lobby, flashing him a half-friendly grin as he starts to ascend the stairs. The elevator is fixed now, but Harry has gotten into the habit of climbing the stairs instead.
He arrives at Room 197 two minutes later and knocks his knuckles against the wood, before letting himself in. Mr Tomlinson is sat at his desk and he turns in his seat to grin at Harry, as the young man closes the door behind him and hands the business man his cup.

It's now when Harry notices the birthday card sat upright on the desk beside him, and remembers a conversation a few days earlier when they discussed their birthdays. Harry feels ashamed and guilty that he hasn't bought anything for his boss' birthday, but the replacement printer of four days ago had emptied his bank account. Harry smiles at Mr Tomlinson instead, and nods towards the card.

"Happy Birthday, Sir." He begins, and Mr Tomlinson looks up from his laptop and smiles again, wide this time, nodding his head in gratitude. "I would have got you something, but I couldn't find the time to pick anything up. I'm sorry." Mr Tomlinson sips his tea slowly, but gulps it down quickly as Harry speaks, shaking his head.
"Harry, don't apologise, please." He says, his tone of voice smooth and assuring. "I wasn't expecting anything from you. The outstanding work you do for me, stepping up everyday and putting in the effort is a birthday present enough. Plus, you still won't let me pay you back for that printer. So, honestly mate, we're even." Harry's heart skips a beat at the word 'mate', and he returns Mr Tomlinson's wide grin, flashing his dimples.
"If anything, I'm in debt to you." Mr Tomlinson says, with a playful tone but his eyes serious. "All the amazing work you do for me. I should be apologising to you." He laughs at his own words, his off-white teeth accentuating his smile. Harry just shakes his head, disagreeing as he turns, reaching into the cupboard to grab his cleaning cloth.

The two men instantly snap into their daily routine, working around each other, force of habit by now, and the rest of Mr Tomlinson's birthday carries on as any other day. Louis risks a few swift glances towards the young boy, as he vacuums the carpet, wondering if there has ever been a more charming, joyful man than Harry.
It's now that Louis realises that he has left his reading glasses in the bathroom and stands to retrieve them. The sound of the vacuum cleaner is loud, as Harry works on the space of carpet by the bathroom door, so he doesn't hear when Mr Tomlinson asks if he can get past, and when he notices the businessman stood behind him waiting, it startles him, making him jump. Mr Tomlinson chuckles softly and places a hand on Harry's shoulder as he switches the loud machine off, apologising for frightening him. Harry just smiles in response and moves backward into the door frame to let Mr Tomlinson pass.
They're both slim, but the door frame is narrow, and Mr Tomlinson has to squeeze past slowly, the vacuum cleaner becoming an obstacle. He steps over it, maneuvering his feet carefully, before looking up and realising just how close his face is to Harry's.
His fingers brush against Harry's hand for a second and their eyes meet, a still and sizzling silence between them, before they look away and Mr Tomlinson finally grabs his glasses, returning to his chair, without a word. Harry clears his throat, ignoring the strange moment that just passed and resumes vacuuming.