Personal Assistant ➵ H.S.

36

The rest of the day went by in a bit of a whirlwind of contacting and reassuring people that everything was under control. It was hectic, but you worked well in stressful situations and knew that you'd made a good start for what would be a very interesting week.

By making and having those initials conversations with PR meant that when you came in tomorrow, you'd be able to easily pick up where you left off, planning to work closely with them for the foreseeable future until they had a handle on the media.

Getting in touch with Bear Records had been slightly tricker though. They'd conveniently been 'busy' whenever you'd called or ended up putting you on hold for an amount of time that suggested you were just being ignored.

It was frustrating, and unprofessional for that matter, but they clearly knew what they'd done and were playing hard to get. But you didn't mind a challenge.

However, what was still frustrating you, was that bugging exclamation mark inside of your head when you'd first heard the name of the company. You still couldn't get your finger on why it had struck a note of recognition, but hopefully during the week it would come to you.

By the time you left work, both you and Harry were exhausted, not having expected to come back from your weekend away to such an intense day at work.

He gave you a long kiss before you'd parted ways, deciding that you both needed your own beds tonight to make sure you got a good nights sleep and didn't get distracted in one another the moment you got home.

And you were glad, as by having a night alone you were finally able to indulge in the plethora of feelings that had been present ever since Harry had told you he loved you.

You walked in the front door with a huge grin on your face, thinking back to the steamy night after your date. Leaving your bag and coat on the table, your hand trailed across the top of the chair where Harry had fucked you, a rosy loved-up blush on your cheeks. 

When you reached your room to change into some comfier clothing, you couldn't help but just stand at the threshold and bite your bottom lip to try and contain the giddy smile as the memories of Harry in your bed flooded through your mind. When your fingers lightly touched the bed sheets you couldn't help but lean down to the pillow that Harry had used. A sigh escaped your lips when you caught the lasting tendrils of his scent still on your pillow. God, you had it real bad.

As you sat down to have your dinner, you finally decided now was a good time to open up Twitter and Instagram to see if anything had surfaced from the awards night or the shots the paparazzi had managed to get from your date.

The beautiful, HD photos from your stint on the red carpet were lovely, you had to admit. Your glam team had done you up so perfectly for the cameras you couldn't help but feel pretty, and was glad to have not been faced with a shed-load of insecurities under the intense lenses. Harry of course, looked incredible as he always did; slightly smouldering and mysterious, but absolutely gorgeous none the less.

A few keen eyed Twitter goers had even pulled up the pictures where Harry had spoken quietly to you to have some pictures alone, and the camera had picked up his proud and what you know new as a loving expression on his face and your body felt all warm and fuzzy. You'd ended up saving that one to your phone with a smile.

The pictures from your date last night weren't as well put together though. Luckily you'd kept your head down for the majority, but there had been a couple snapped of when Harry lost his temper slightly at the rude paparazzi which had led to some very incorrect headlines and assumptions.

But there was only a few like that thankfully, as most of the news outlets who deemed you and Harry important enough to comment on had combined the two stories and settled with a potential romance/look back at your relationship type article.