Adore You [H.S]

22 // The Coffee's Out

THANK YOU FOR 10k !!!!!!
* * *
"Are you ready to leave?" Harry asks as we've finished eating and have now been chatting for the past 20 minutes or so.

"Yeah," I say, smiling.

Before today, I almost thought Harry was the shallow kind of celebrity. But now that I've gotten to know him, he seems like a real human being. The media paints such an awfully unrealistic picture of who Harry really is. After talking for so long and really getting to know each other more, he seems like the kind of person I'd want to hang around.

"Thank you so much," I say appreciatively after standing up whilst holding my bouquet of lilies in my arm.

"No, thank you," he turns my comment around. "I had a great time."

I smiled to myself as we started to walk away from the booth we were seated at. Harry walked beside me until we came across a thinning of the aisle way where the tables were closer together. He then stepped behind me, allowing me to walk first. Though I'm sure he thought it was a good idea, to begin with, it ended up not being one at all.

A waitress who was walking backward and wasn't paying attention to her surroundings bumps into me, spilling a hot, dark liquid all down the front of my white top. It was so hot, I could practically feel it burning the skin underneath my shirt. I almost shrieked but kept it in by masking it with a few rapid gasps for air. Harry rushes to my side to make sure I'm okay as I hold in my screams of pain.

The poor waitress cursed under her breath as her eyes travel down to see the mess she made on both me and the floor.

"Oh my god, are you okay?" She asks worriedly.

"Yeah," I shudder out, Harry quickly grabbing napkins from a nearby table. He hands them to me and I try to dab up some of the spilled coffee. Nothing happened whatsoever.

"I'm so so sorry," The girl apologized sincerely. Her forehead deeply creased with signs of distress. All eyes were on the little scene going on.

"It's okay," I breathe out, fanning myself, "you didn't do it on purpose."

"Ugh, I feel so bad," she says, offering me even more napkins. After I take them from her, she places her head in her hand. She begins to cry.

"Hey, hey love," Harry says soothingly, placing his hand gently between her shoulder blades, "you didn't do it on purpose, did you?"

"Well, no." She sniffs, looking up at him with red eyes.

"Then there's no need to cry," he states, trying his absolute best to calm her down. "You didn't mean to, and it's just a little coffee stain. No big deal."

It wasn't just a coffee stain. It was more like a coffee stain plus a coffee burn all down the front of my body. But I get what Harry was trying to do. This poor girl was about to have a panic attack.

"Yeah, I'm totally okay. This stain will come out, so everything's fine," I add on.

"See?" Harry switches his glance from me back to her.

"I guess you're right," she says, her face still slightly red. "I still feel bad for startling you. So much for the first day."

"I'm sure you'll get the hang of it," Harry encourages, smiling dimply. He extends his hand out, silently asking for her to shake it. "I'm Harry. I come in here a lot."

"Olivia," she introduces herself, taking ahold of his hand and giving it a shake.

I had to hold back my giggles as I heard her name. Being a former One Direction fan, my mind immediately thought of the song 'Olivia.'

"I'd really love to stay and chat, but I have to get back to work. And I think she should get home and change," she advises. "Wouldn't want her to smell like coffee all day."

"I wouldn't mind," I joke, referring to my loveeven the smell of coffee beans. "But yeah, I think I should run back to my hotel to change my shirt."

"I could come with," Harry says quickly, obviously way quicker than he meant to. "I mean if that's okay with you."

"Sure that's fine," I say, shrugging. "As long as you don't watch me change."

"No promises," he jokes

* * *

I slip my top off as Harry is in the bathroom. I took this time as the perfect opportunity to get a quick change. The outfit I was changing into laid on my bed as I let my pants form a pool around my feet.

I hum the tune of 'Olivia' as I grab my clean, stainless shirt off the end of my bed. I apparently was humming so loudly that I didn't even hear the toilet flush. Or the bathroom door open. And before I knew it, there Harry was, standing next to the bathroom door, his face bright red.

I'm quick to cover myself with the shirt as Harry just stands there, stunned.

"I-I...uh," he stutters. He shakes all the thoughts out of his head before speaking up again. "I'm so so sorry, I'll just-"

"It's fine," I say quickly, looking down at the ground, "could you just give me like...two more seconds?"

"Yeah, of course. I'll wait in the lobby if you'd like," he suggests. I told him that would be fine and he then left the room completely.

I let out a sigh of relief and plopped down on the edge of the bed, now procrastinating getting dressed. I stare at nothing as thoughts just float around my head.

Harry Styles just saw me half-naked. What am I supposed to do? Have a party?

I don't like my body. I never have. Growing up, I always felt ashamed of it. When I'd wearing something that showed too much skin, I was told "no one wants to see that." That shit messed me up. School dress codes didn't help either. I felt so ashamed if I liked something that showed my midriff or too high up on my thighs or even my shoulders. Not that I was allowed to wear it in my household anyway. In high school, I was always really sick to my stomach and never knew why. Being sick caused me to lose a ton of weight and everyone thought I had an eating disorder. From there on, including now, I've been slightly underweight.

It's not like I did it on purpose or anything. It's not like I wanted to be that skinny. My body just didn't really keep the food I was eating for very long and there wasn't much I could do about it. I tried all the gluten and lactose-free diets you could ever imagine and they still didn't work. I got blood drawn and nothing came up. My allergies showed I was allergic to practically everything, and even staying away from those foods completely didn't help. Later I found out I had anxiety-triggered IBS.

After starting counseling and other methods besides medication to help treat my IBS, it eventually went away. And here I am now, almost 8 years later, and haven't had a single problem for almost two and a half years.

I finish getting dressed and composed myself once again. If I was embarrassed, even though I change in front of people quite often, I couldn't imagine how embarrassed Harry must've been for me. I didn't tell I was changing, I thought kinda thought he would think of that on his own, considering that was the reason for coming back to the hotel in the first place.

I made my way down to the lobby where Harry was taking pictures with an older man, who must've been a fan. As they pulled away, I approached them.

The man's face lit up once I stood next to Harry.

"Is this your girlfriend?" He asks, gesturing to me with his finger.

"No," I laugh, "we're just friends."

Harry shifts uncomfortably where he stands next to me. I look over at him, smiling.

"Just friends," I repeat.