Stall 2

Chapter 22.

"Bad things are comin this way
Get down on your knees and pray
Best get ready to fight or start runnin
Cuz Bad things are coming"

***

Harry has been sweet.

It's scaring the shit out of me.

It's been three days since the stunt I pulled, where I left him hard and frustrated on knees after he acted like a total prick.

I expected to pay for it when I got out of the shower.

But I didn't.

Instead I was greeted with a calm Harry waiting on the bed, who stood and came over to me; giving me a soft kiss before he said, "Hope you had a good shower baby, I'm gonna go have one now. I have something to take care of."

I watched speechless as he strolled to the bathroom, with a nonchalant expression and closed the door.

Fuck.

The next day after I finished work, Harry picked me up and I nearly choked on my spit when I saw him. He'd gotten a haircut, that was almost identical to the one he had when I met him again almost a year ago.

It was slightly longer on top now though, the lengthy shaggy puppy curls that he'd let grow out over the months were now styled into the shorter hair cut, pushed back off his forehead except for a   single rogue curl that had escaped to dangle above his brows.

He was dressed in a sheer black button up shirt, that had barely any of the buttons done up; exposing his chest under his fitted suit jack.

I got into the car, trying to pick my jaw up out of my lap as he greeted me with a coy grin, holding onto his chin with his fingers with his elbow resting on the car door while the other kept hold of the steering wheel.

"Hi"

I gulped, in no way able to hide my gawking and I closed my legs tight together as I replied with a tight, "Hey... you got a haircut?"

Harry leaned over the console, pressing a quick kiss to my lips before starting the car and humming, "Mhm, you like it?"

Like it? My god damn ovaries have a pulse over it.

I give him a wordless nod, still just awe-struck and the smug lopsided smirk that dips his dimple into his cheek as he focuses his attention on the road is making it harder to get air into my lungs.

"Good."

If I thought I was lost for words in the car, when we got home and I watched him go sit on the couch and call Jimmy I damn near fell over.

As soon as I heard the words "Yeah - look, I called because I need to talk to you about something. It's about the things you say about Abby."

I was tempted to punch myself, to make sure I wasn't lucid dreaming.

He'd pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a frustrated groan, "I know you're only joking Jimmy -- Yes, I'm aware Abby doesn't have a dick -- No I know you don't want to fuck her -- Oh my god will you just let me speak!"

He rubbed at the back of his neck, before scratching his fingers through his hair and I could tell he felt completely out of his comfort zone, "I don't like when you talk about her - Like when you say shit about her body and all that," he pauses before muttering, "It makes me uncomfortable and kinda upsets me... Like, genuinely bothers me. I'd appreciate it you'd stop."

Kinda upsets him? That's the understatement of the century.

"No - Jimmy, I know you were joking -- Jesus calm down, stop apologising so much - No I don't need a happy meal" there's another pause as he listens, while cracking his knuckles on his free hand with his thumb, "Alright. Thanks - I appreciate it. Yeah I'll see you later."