Talulah's P.O.V.
I don't think this week could get any worse.
Last week was hell, more in terms of being occupied. It was one of the busiest weeks I have ever had working for Mr. Styles and at Flood & Strobel in general. This week though, was personally one of the worst weeks of my life.
After I woke up on his couch after accidentally passing out the other day, I instantly felt guilty when I saw his keys were on his entry table and his plaid coat was hung by the door. It was only 5pm, so he wasn't expected home for another hour or so. I felt twice as guilty when I realized one of the blankets that usually stayed folded on the edge of the couch was placed over me. I put myself together and refolded the blanket before I walked to his office and knocked on his door.
"Mr. Styles,"
"Come in," he called out.
I opened the door and saw him behind his desk. His head was down in his hands and I noticed that he had already poured himself a glass of whiskey.
"I just wanted to say that I am sorry for falling asleep. I didn't sleep a lot last night and I only intended to nap for like 20 minutes," I walked up to his desk, pulling a tissue out of the box and placing his drink on top of it so it wouldn't create a ring on his nice wooden desk. "I guess I slept through my timer, I am so, so sorry."
"You're fine," he says with a sigh.
"Oh," I say with confusion. "Okay. Is there anything I can do before I head out for the night?"
"No. Go home Talulah." The way he said my name made me want to cry right there. I knew I shouldn't have fallen asleep, it really was a total accident. Granted, the dream I was having made me want to stay asleep forever, but still, I was going to wake up before he even got home.
I understood that he was upset with me but I didn't know why this much. Sure, to the average eye you might think that I got off lucky. But, like I have said, I am very observant when it comes to him. We have always kept our relationship professional, sometimes bordering on the possibility of friends, more like casual acquaintances, but there were always certain things he did. He always keeps chocolate and vanilla swirl pudding cups in the fridge for me. (He claimed they were for his nieces and nephews who rarely stop by.) I knew they were for me because he caught me eating one the first night we met and ever since then has called me Puddin. That's the other thing. He doesn't say it often, but he always says it when we say goodbye. That was my first sign that something was wrong. Like when you're texting a friend and they respond with just a "k." Or when you're talking to someone and they're nodding along and you can tell that they didn't care in the first place. This was that. It wasn't a big deal, but it keyed me in on the fact that something was wrong, and it only got more and more frustrating from there.
The next morning my car battery died. I was already running late because I forgot to dip the cream puffs I had made the night before in the chocolate, so by the time I was in the car I was ready to cry. I wanted to call Ben, but I didn't know if Mr. Styles was using his car or not and I didn't want to be a hassle.
I called Niall who luckily was able to give me a lift to and from work every day this week until my car got fixed. When I got to work it wasn't too late, only about 20 minutes behind when I usually come in. I walked into Mr. Styles office with his usual coffee, extra sugar packets in case he needed them (although I know he keeps the extras I bring in the drawer.)
"You're late," Mr. Styles said without tearing his eyes away from his computer.
"I'm sorry sir I-"
"I don't care why just don't let it happen again."
My stomach dropped a little at his harsh tone. If he was this on edge I knew better than to provoke him, but I knew this also meant he was stressed, so I left the box of pastries on the table by his door, knowing he would dig into them later.
"I updated your calendar so everything should be synced up to your phone and computer. Is there anything else I can do for you today?"
"There is a problem I need dealt with at the house. I trust you know how to handle it?"
Translation for anyone who hasn't been working for this man for months - He had a one night stand and he needs me to make sure the girl actually left his house.
He is weirdly trustworthy when it comes to leaving women in his house. I mean he keeps his office door locked when he isn't in it but still to just leave women in his bed.
"Yes, sir right away," I started to walk out the door messaging Ben that I was on the way down and needed to borrow him. When I got out of his office I realized that he didn't correct me when I called him sir. How badly did I mess up with him?
I slid into the expensive black SUV and slammed the car with and let out a frustrated groan hitting my forehead on the dashboard in front of me.
"That bad?" Ben asked
"No, I'm being dramatic. It could be worse. In fact I am sure it is going to get worse. You and I are now heading back to the Styles residence so I can kick some long legged, size 0, model, with perfect skin out of his apartment - which is going to be a great boost to my self esteem."
"What's got you down sugar? Finally ready to admit you like Harry?" Ben asks with concern.
"No I-" I let out another frustrated groan. "I don't but I am not going to sit here and say that he is unattractive because hello I am not blind. It's just that, I don't know, being his assistant, always doing the small things for him, most of which he doesn't realize which is fine, it is my job, and I like making him happy. And I am not saying that I want him to see me as something more, but seeing these Victoria Secret Angels in his bed is just another reminder that someone like him will never look at someone like me, in that way. I'd rather clean his bathrooms than have to do this."
I let my head roll back on to the headrest and close my eyes. Then, Ben took it upon himself to pinch the fat of my arm.
"Ow! What the hell man," I snapped at him.
"Don't talk about my friend like that! Talulah you are a beautiful girl. You have one of the prettiest faces I have ever seen and you shouldn't let anyone make you feel insecure about your body. Your body does amazing things, including housing one of my favorite people of all time. There is nothing wrong with you. I am so sorry that there are people that make you feel like that but frankly they can fuck off."
"Woah, oh my god." I had never heard Ben curse before.
"Seriously, take care of what is up here," he taps on my temple. "And everything will work out." I nodded at him and went back to trying to calm myself down.
After a beat of silence Ben looked over at me and said, "I know what will help," and turned up the radio.
Papa I know you're going to be upset
'Cause I was always your little girl
But you should know by now
I'm not a baby
♛♛♛
I turned my key into the apartment building. There were random pieces of clothes strewn throughout the lobby and up the stairs. I picked up the clothes, his in my left hand, hers in my right hand. I rolled my eyes putting two and two together. If her clothes are here, so is she.
I start walking up the stairs, mentally preparing myself for whatever petite model with a shining personality is waiting in his bed.
"Harry? Back so soon?" Jesus was she really gonna wait all day for him to come home?
"No he's at work," I say while I open up the door.
She shrieks and throws his white duvet over her body.
"Yeah yeah hide your perfect body. I'd get out my note cards but I think I have this speech memorized at this point so here goes. Hi I'm Talulah, Harry's assistant. You're probably waiting for him to get home, but unfortunately he has sent me to make sure that you are not here when he gets home. Call him an asshole or douche bag, whatever you want, doesn't matter, I've heard them all. Do you have something to go home in? Do you need me to send anything to dry cleaning for you?"
She looked at me bewildered. Yeah I am sure she isn't used to most of her one night stands having a whole routine of kicking her out. At least not one that features another girl.
"Umm, I can wear what I had on last night," she says and I hand her the clothes I had collected. Thank god. I really didn't want to explain the pile of extra shirts he keeps for one night stands. He knows that girls like to wear his clothes home as if it means something, so he keeps a drawer of plain, brand new black t shirts to hand out like party favors. Kinda a dick move but honestly pretty smart.
"I'll be downstairs to make sure that you leave. Take your time getting dressed."
I went down to the couch and sat there on my phone. I looked through Mr. Styles' calendar to see what he had coming up. There was a business dinner with the Berkley development that I really wanted to go to. There was also the annual company banquet that was coming up. I had to still find a dress for that. I don't even know how the hell I am going to afford it. I guess I should cut back on the pastries this week. But he already seems to be having a bad week and even if he is mad at me I know cookies make him smile. Maybe I should just try to make something with whatever is in the house. I think I have some macadamia nuts, and he liked when I made those last month.
I was lost in my head thinking about what I was going to wear to this banquet when I heard last night's conquest pad her way down the stairs.
"Is this really what you get paid to do? Sit here and kick out your boss's flings."
"Yeah one of the many things."
"Aw, that's sad."
"I don't need your pity. It's my job, and I do it happily."
"I just meant that it was sad that you have to sit here and watch your hot young boss sleep with half of the city when he will never want to fuck you."
"Well I have a lot of jobs, none of which concern you. However, it's typically the house keeper who takes out the trash, but I guess it was my turn today. Have a nice day."
She scoffed at me and walked out.
♕♕♕
The next day started better than the last. Niall picked me up early and even greeted me with some early morning Madonna to make me happy. We had a jam session to all of our favorites and the other songs that were on our playlist.
I had a smile on my face when I went up to Jim at the coffee cart. He made me a large latte even though I only ordered a small. I had a lovely chat with Connor at reception until I heard "TALULAH," from Mr. Styles' office.
That's when my day started going down hill. He was in a terrible mood and on top of it I didn't have any type of pastry to curb his mood. He gave me a list of things to do, which was longer than normal.
Oh but my favorite part of the day was when I went to Mr. Styles' home, ready to give my Oscar worthy monologue when I found not one, but two skinny blonde girls in his bed. I swear feminism left my body for a minute because I wanted to do nothing but lose my shit and shame them for... I don't know what. Being beautiful? I was just upset. If anyone should be shamed it's Mr. Styles, I should mark out a date in his calendar to get him tested. He hasn't had me pick up condoms in a while. Could he be doing things for himself for once? I would be shocked.
When I got back to the office after completing the unnecessarily long list of things he had me do, everyone was leaving. The door to Mr. Styles' office was unlocked so I let myself in. I didn't see his usual black and white plaid jacket with the red and yellow stripes by the door so I assumed he left.
Sometimes when I have time I would draft on his nice vintage drafting table. He doesn't use it much any more because he is usually busy with contacts and billings. I think he keeps it there as a reminder of the designer he used to be. When I draw on it, it's mostly just to play around.
Even though I thought Harry had left it still didn't feel right sitting at the table while he seemed to be so upset with me. I sat on the long couch that faced the windows of his side wall.
"Jesus fuck, you are everywhere." I jumped at the boom of his voice.
"I'm your assistant? It's kind of my job to be everywhere you are," I probably shouldn't have been sassy with him, but I was so tired from today. He was clearly avoiding me all week, making me do more busy work than normal.
"I know but it is after hours Talulah, go home."
I stayed staring out the window. I was frustrated with him and I knew the second I looked at him I would crumble. I wasn't going to be rude with him. I just think he should also know how upset I am without me directly calling him on it. "I am. I'm sorry I am not trying to hang around after hours I am just waiting for my ride."
"Your ride?" He asks, his voice mixed with shock and annoyance.
"Yeah my car broke down Tuesday morning. That's why I was late. So I'm waiting for Niall to pick me up."
"Who?" He moves from the doorway into his office. Instead of sitting next to me and sits on the arm of the couch, spreading his legs wide to balance himself.
"Oh he's my friend. He's been driving me to and from work, but he got held up at his own job so I am waiting. Your door was unlocked so I figured I would sit and watch the clouds for a bit."
"Why didn't you just have Ben drive you?" He asks, like it is the most obvious solution in the world. It is, but I just didn't want to give him the satisfaction.
"Well he drives you most mornings and at the end of the day so I didn't want to take him from you. I can manage. It's fine. Plus, being out of a car I have to use Ben during the day so I am sure he is sick of me by the end of the night anyway."
"I don't think anyone can be sick of you," he whispers.
You seem to be, I want to respond.
He clears his throat and tears his gaze from me, looking out the window the same direction I was. "Seriously though, have Ben drive you to work and home until your car is fixed. I can drive myself."
"Mr. Styles I can't," I go to argue but he immediately cuts me off.
"You can and you will," he states matter of factly.
"Well thank you very much," I say to him. My phone lights up in my hand and it's Niall telling me that he is here. "My ride's here. Goodnight Mr. Styles,"
"Goodnight Puddin'"
Butterflies erupt in my stomach when I hear the familiar nickname again. I relax knowing that he isn't as mad at me as I thought. That didn't mean the week got any easier.
♛♛♛
By Friday evening I was exhausted. Mr. Styles had put me through chore after chore, then barely gave me breaks before dragging me to dinners and meetings. I ended up sitting in on the Berkley deal like I wanted but it just deflated my ego. It was another round of locker room talk, which I should note that Mr. Styles rarely partook in, and was always clearly annoyed by it. I tried not to let my clear annoyance show on my face, but with how tired I was, I am sure my poker face had pretty much dissolved.
Every once in a while Mr. Styles' arm would reach around my chair and stay there. When particularly rude comments would come up, I would feel him squeeze my shoulder lightly. None of the comments had to do with me of course. I wasn't a person in their eyes, nor was I even an object. I was just extra space. That's how I felt all week. Not that I was a waste of space, it just seemed to upset people that I took up so much of it.
That is how I ended up in a bar on the nicer side of town spending money I didn't have on tequila shots. The bar was called The D Train, and I had only been here once or twice on random dates. This was before I became Mr. Styles' assistant because now do I rarely have the energy to go out and date. The interior was sleek and dark. The bar stools were black leather, matching the dark wood of the actual bar. It was very dim, similar to a train car at night. There were green LED lights running parallel on the ceiling to mimic train tracks. It could be an intimidating environment, but as I slid onto a barstool towards the end of the bar, I felt a little bit of control come back into my life.
I don't know what I was thinking. I guess I was just trying to find the mentality of well if I look good, I will make myself feel good.
I put on a purple sequin mini dress with long sleeves and a deep v-neck that showed off some cleavage. I didn't have a lot to show off. You know it's not really fair being plus sized and not having big tits or a big ass. There is little to representation to begin with in the "plus sized community" but even then, every model you see is the same. They may be plus sized and therefore deemed unfit to be in the regular modeling community, but even then, they are all proportional. I try to love my body. Like Ben said, it houses me, and takes care of me. I wish I could be self confident and preach self love, but I am just not there yet. And that is okay, I try to remind myself, because at least I am trying.
A few guys tried to hit on me but I didn't have time for their mental gymnastics.
The first guy sat down next to me and we were actually having a pleasant conversation. That was until he touched me, and when I politely asked him not to, he instantly turned cold. He kept trying to make advances on me, and when I finally shut him down fully he snapped at me, telling me that, "I should be lucky he was hitting on me," and "he expected a bitch like me would be an easy lay."
Ah the magic of womanhood. I ordered two more shots.
I was about 5 shots in when another man approached me. I wasn't drunk yet, just a little floaty and warm. It's all fun and games having a high tolerance until you get the bill. That's why I allowed this man to sit down next to me and order me some stupid fruity drink. I didn't care as long as it was on his tab.
We made small talk for a while. He was telling me about his thrilling life as an electrician. I was talking to him about being an architect as if it was my actual job. I didn't owe this man anything, so I guess I could at least pretend like I was living a more glamorous life than my actual day to day. We were talking for about 20 minutes when another girl sat down about 5 barstools away, and in the middle of my sentence he had gotten up to go chat her up.
I couldn't even find it in me to care or be shocked. I made eye contact with the bartender who had been serving me all day and he started making his way over with two shot glasses and the bottle of tequila from earlier.
He placed them down and started pouring the liquor into both of the glasses until they were practically full. I slammed them down without a second thought, only wincing slightly when the burning sensation slid down my throat.
"Rough night?" the bartender asked me.
I rolled my lips into my mouth and nodded. "Rough night, rough week, rough month, take your pick."
"Ah well in that case," he started refilling the shot glasses, "here these ones are on the house."
I was starting to lose count which I know wasn't very responsible of me but the few drinks I'd had with the previous man threw off my count. Either way, I was definitely beginning to feel it.
I felt my eyebrows push down and I waved a finger at him accusatory, "Are you trying to get me drunk mister."
He chuckled at me, "Yes that is kind of my job."
"Well in that case," I took them back a little too quickly. The second one threatened to come back up but I held my ground and made sure it stayed down.
"You're very pretty...." his sentence trailed off so he could get my name.
"Talulah and thank you, I know," it was getting harder to keep my eyes open.
"Well Talulah, do you need me to call you a cab?"
"No huh, I got it. I will however have two more of these babies," I gesture to the shot glasses in front of me, "because if I am gonna go bankrupt tonight it is going to be on alcohol, not a ride home."
I pull my phone out of my purse and open the phone app and go straight to favorites so I can call Niall to come pick me up. I hit the name at the top of my favorites and it rang twice before someone picked up.
"Hello?" I heard the deep male voice on the other line.
"Hiiiiiiii Niall," I hiccuped into the phone. "Can you come pick me up? I'm a D Trrrrrrain, and I think I drank a liiiillltle too much? Not a lot, well maybe a lot because I needed it. I'll tell you about it when you get here but Mr. Styles was so fucking mean this week it was crazy. And it's not even like he was outright mean, no no he was fucking with my head. He wouldn't call me Puddin', well sometimes, but only when he wanted me to be nice to him, it's complicated but I know that he knows that I know what it meansssss. AND! he was such a little whore all week. No fuck that, a massive whore. Sending me to do his dirty work, making sure his tarts left his bed, it was crazy. I don't care how hot and sexy and kind and good the man is, I am fed up with his shit. God, remind me to put in his schedule to go get tested at the clinic." There was silence for a moment. "Wait why did I call you again...OH RIGHT can you come get me or not?"
"I'm on my way." The line went dead and I turned back around to the bar. The cute bartender from earlier was gone and there was a female bartender in his place. I tried to sound as sober as possible and asked for two more shots which she happily poured me and I wiggled to the music playing waiting for Niall to show up.
Harry's P.O.V.
I am an asshole. Apparently I am also "hot and sexy and kind and good," but all I can really think about is the fact that I am an asshole.
When I left Talulah on my couch that day because I didn't want to wake her from her dream, I went to my office and tried to forget about it. Key word being tried. I told myself it was just a little crush and that she would get over it. In reality, I was the one who couldn't get over it. The intrusive thoughts just wouldn't end.
She called me Harry.
She never calls me Harry.
I liked the way it sounded when she called me that.
I wonder what I was doing in the dream to make her say my name like that.
I would get mad at myself and try to ignore it. I did everything I could to keep her away from me because I didn't know how to handle it. I sent her on extra errands, I increased her work load, I tried to pull back with the pet name. Looking back on it, I guess it wasn't really fair. When drinking didn't help, I decided to take out my frustrations in other ways. I would pick up some random girl, or in the case of that one night girls, and try to forget about Talulah.
But I couldn't.
The worst part is I saw that it was starting to upset her. In all honesty, having her kick out the girls the next morning was more for my mentality than hers. I wasn't trying to send her a message or rub it in. I was trying to remind myself that she was my employee, not a random fuck.
But she's not a random. She's Talulah. She's my Puddin'. And I didn't want to take advantage of my position as her boss. But she was all I could think about. I brought her along to meetings when I missed her and did my best to keep my hands off her. We have never been extremely touchy, and I had never been overly friendly to her, Talulah is overly friendly to everyone though, it's who she is.
After this week I was determined to treat her better and get her out of my mind.
I was going to remain professional but nice. Strict but caring.
And then my phone rang.
And the words spoken on the other end absolutely shattered me.
"Mr. Styles was so fucking mean this week it was crazy. And it's not even like he was outright mean, no no he was fucking with my head. He wouldn't call me Puddin', well sometimes, but only when he wanted me to be nice to him, it's complicated but I know that he knows that I know what it meansssss. AND! he was such a little whore all week. No fuck that, a massive whore. Sending me to do his dirty work, making sure his tarts left his bed, it was crazy. I don't care how hot and sexy and kind and good the man is, I am fed up with his shit. God, remind me to put in his schedule to go get tested at the clinic."
The second she said she was at D Train and needed a ride I was instantly throwing my shoes on to go get her. She clearly was in no condition to drive considering she fully called the wrong person and didn't even recognize it was me when I picked up. I was getting in my car when she started talking about me. Suddenly I felt like I was the drunk one and I was ready to puke. Of course she caught on that I was trying to distance myself, and like a fool I led her into believing that it was her fault. Also her calling me a whore and insinuating that I had STDs was a little harsh but I couldn't blame her and if it wasn't painfully true, (the being a whore part - not the STD part. I'm 100% clean), I would've laughed at her bluntness.
Walking into D Train and seeing her at the end of the bar I felt a sense of relief, and a sense of dread came over me at the same time. I heard her before I saw her. I was making my way through the crowd when I heard a dramatic gasp followed by, "OH MY GOD I LOVE THIS SONG." If her voice wasn't enough to pull me to her, the fact that the song she was referencing was Like a Prayer by Madonna gave it away that my Puddin' was in the back.
God I hope she wasn't so pissed at me that she wouldn't let me help her.
"I'm telling you Brad, Madonna is one of the greatest performers of all time. We truly don't deserve her."
"Hi Puddin'" Her head snapped to me but it clearly made her dizzy. She squinted at me to make sure I was actually there. She even poked at my chest as she wobbled forward.
"Harry?" I don't think I will ever get used to her calling me by my first name. She looked stunning in this tight purple dress and it was doing bad things to my mind and my dick, but I needed to concentrate on making sure she was okay.
She leaned onto her finger that was poking into my chest and fell towards me. I wrapped an arm around her so she wouldn't fall over.
I looked at the bartender and pulled my wallet out. I grabbed my black AMEX card and gave it to him to pay off her tab.
"Hey Puddin' can you sit up for me? I'm gonna take you home."
"No," she shook her head like a child. Rolling her lips into a lazy smile she said, "I called Niall he's on his way."
"No Talulah, you called me. It's okay I got you."
"Ughhhh. Fine. Let's go." She grabbed her purse and started walking for the door and wobbled a little bit. I wrapped an arm around her waist to keep her steady. "I can't wait to see Ben. He lets me blast Madonna."
"Sorry to disappoint but I drove, but I will still let you listen to Madonna if that makes you happy." Her jaw dropped dramatically. "What?"
"Pfffff" she started laughing and waving her hands in front of her face. "Sorry, I just can't imagine you driving."
"How do you think I got to work all week while Ben drove you?"
She pursed her lips together and tapped her pointer finger on her lips to pretend like she was thinking. I wanted more than anything to grab her wrist, pull her to me and smash my lips against hers. I wanted to hold her tight against me and kiss her until we couldn't breathe. But she was drunk, and I was her boss. It couldn't happen.
"Teleportation? Ooooooo Maybe a magic carpet?" She giggled at her own joke. God she was too cute for her own good.
"Oh so you're a funny drunk," I state.
"No I am always funny you just never let me show you. I do however have no filter, so I am trying not to focus on the fact that I'm not going to remember any of this and probably get fired in the morning."
"You really think I would fire you for being drunk off the clock and calling for help?" I helped her into the car and leaned over to help her buckle.
"You've done worse," she slurs.
God I hated how she saw me. I had to make it up to her. It was going to be a struggle to make it up to her, but I knew I had to. I would find the balance between casual and professional, but I wouldn't lead her on. It would kill me to hurt her.
When we got in my car I plugged my phone and played the generic Madonna playlist on Spotify but it made her smile for a second. I buckled in and pulled onto the road. I got on the street and I realized I had no idea where she lived. I probably should have her address memorized considering all the times that I have sent her holiday gifts or thank you baskets but I was drawing a blank.
"Where do you live again Puddin Cup?" I looked over to her in the passenger seat to see that she was knocked out cold. Great. My place it is then.
♛♛♛
There are few things as comical as getting a drunk Talulah up to my apartment. First there was getting her out of the car which was ... something. I mean she woke up but she was still pretty out of it. Luckily the doorman at my building knew her otherwise it would totally look like I was trying to take advantage of some poor sad drunk girl.
"Evening Mr. Styles. Everything alright Miss Talulah?" Troy asked her.
"Mhmmm," she nodded and flicked her nose with her hand. "Alllllll good" She gave him two thumbs up and almost fell again.
"I'm just going to make her get some sleep and a lot of aspirin."
When we finally made it up to my penthouse she walked in like it was her own place. It kinda was, she probably spent more time here than me.
"Can I get you anything? Do you want to take a shower or do you just want some extra clothes and go to sleep?"
"Yeah don't worry I'll help myself to the gift shop," She was still slurring her words but at least she was forming actual sentences.
Wait hold on.
"Gift shop?" I asked.
"Mhmmm," she nodded. "It's what I call the drawer of clean t-shirts for your one-night stands. It's not like anyone uses the bigger sizes anyway. I'm surprised you haven't had me put gift bags together. I can get your name printed on tote bags if you want. Maybe include little bottles of dry shampoo! We could patent this! I am going to make you millions Styles you watch."
"You really don't have a filter when you're drunk. Hey stop," I placed my hand on her shoulder as she went to open that bottom drawer. I went into my own closet and found an old Rolling Stones t-shirt and a pair of loose boxers. I go to hand her it and she looks at me confused. "Is this okay?" I ask her.
She takes the clothes out of my hands, "Uhh, this probably has some deeper meaning that I am too drunk to process so thank you I guess."
"You can use my shower," I nod towards my bathroom.
"OOOOO I can use the whorepoo!! That's what I call the girly shampoo I keep stocked in your shower for your whores so they don't have to use yours. I know I shouldn't call them whore because you know feminism and all that but I can't help it you know? And they're just so mean to me which isn't their fault because I would be cranky if I had amazing sex and I was waiting for some magic 6ft British man to walk through the door but nope its big ole me here to ruin their fun," She kept going talking as she started towards the bathroom and turned the water on. "Like who would want to see Pepper Potts when they are expecting Tony Stark?"
She's going to be the death of me.
"Yeah," she calls over the water. "But this isn't a Marvel movie and I certainly am not Gwenyth Paltrow."
I shook my head and changed myself. I threw on a pair of sweatpants but decided against a shirt. I got an extra blanket out of the closet in case she wanted it. I didn't have to get anything for bed because I knew that the guest bedroom was rarely ever touched.
The water shut off and then I heard something clatter to the ground. I got worried that she fell so I called out her name. I didn't want to go in case she wasn't dressed and she didn't want me to see her. "Everything okay?"
"Yeah I was just looking for the makeup wipes I keep stocked in here." How much does she do around here that I don't know about. She really buys shampoo and makeup wipes for the girls who spend the night here? I mean I'm sure she puts it in on my card but still. My stomach drops a little out of shame. She really is too good and I do not deserve her in the slightest.
I sit on the bed and wait for her to come out of the bathroom. I was lost looking at work emails when I heard, "Motherfucker," I looked up at the sound of her exclamation. I've never heard her curse. When I saw her my mouth went dry and I clenched my jaw so it wouldn't drop. "You know you're not really being fair. You know I am drunk. I have done nothing but compliment you all night and here you are in your tattooed six pack glory. It's like your the human equivalent of a big red button that says 'DO NOT PRESS'"
She should talk.
I never let anyone wear my clothes because girls tend to get over attached and think it means more than it does. Plus I tend not to see the same girl twice so that's why I started buying generic t-shirts so they could think that they were wearing my clothes but were just cheap packs. I didn't want to Talulah to be associated with those girls. She was so much more. I just didn't anticipate the reaction I would have. The boxers just barely covered her behind so I got a look at her amazing thick thighs that I just wanted to bury my face between and suck love bites into the insides of. The t-shirt was a little tight, but that was what was giving me heart palpitations. I swallowed down whatever was in my throat while I tried not to think about how much I wanted to squeeze her soft hips and run my tongue over her breasts while she unraveled underneath me.
Yeah I needed to get it together.
I cleared my throat and ignored her comments. She climbed into the bed next to me and slid under the covers. "I'm gonna go sleep in the guest room. I'll see you in the morning Puddin'"
She yawned as she grabbed onto my wrist. "No. Stay please."
Oh god. Yup, plan my funeral because the self control I am about to muster might end my life early.
"You want me to stay?" I ask. I know I shouldn't.
Really. I shouldn't. It's crossing a line and she is probably too drunk and, and, god she makes it so hard to say no.
It's no big deal right? I would stay on my side and she would stay on hers. I shouldn't. My inner struggle marched on.
"Please," she said softly.
That was it. That was the moment I knew I was a goner. Talulah Knight had me at her mercy and I was more than okay with it.
I nodded sheepishly and slid into the bed with her. I made sure to stay about a foot away from her, but when I twisted my body to turn off the bedside lamp she had snuggled up to me. I laid back and she laid her arm around my torso as I wrapped my inner arm around her to pull her closer.
"Oh Puddin'. You're gonna be the death of me." She laughs.
"Well if you're gonna fire me in the morning I might as well sneak a cuddle in."
"How many times do I have to tell you I am not going to fire you."
"You'll change your mind in the morning. Goodnight Harry."
I ran my fingers through her hair that laid damp on my shoulder. "Night Puddin'"
I stared up at the ceiling trying to figure out what the fuck the last three hours had been. Talulah Knight was in my bed and there was nothing sexual about it. And yet, my heart felt like I was running a marathon. I was completely and utterly fucked. I didn't know what the morning was going to bring, I just knew I would do whatever it took to make sure that I fell asleep like this every night.
I thought that she was asleep when she mumbled, "I'm gonna miss you."
I paused my fingers in her hair. "Talulah I am not firing you for the 100th time."
She shook her head into my chest. "No no I just can't work for you anymore." She was so drowsy I could barely make out what she was saying. If my heart rate was fast before, it was dangerous now.
"What do you mean?" I felt a drop of water roll down my shoulder and I didn't know if it was a tear or just from her hair. I curled my finger under her chin so she would look up at me. "What's wrong?"
She sniffled and looked up at me, "Mum's sick." Her eyes are half opened threatening to close. "My paychecks go home to her so I can't afford to live here anymore. I'm leaving in a few months."
My heart broke for this beautiful girl in my arms. I had no idea that her mom was sick. With the amount of time we spend together, you would think I would know basics about her, but she really does keep to herself. I feel like she knows me better than I know myself but I know next to nothing about her. Another thing I need to change.
"Don't worry about it Puddin'" I squeeze her arm and pull her into me. "You're not going anywhere," I leave a kiss to the top of her head. "Not if I can help it."
"Can I do anything else for you?" She whispers like it's a secret.
My fingers trace up and down her arms to coax her to sleep. "Dream of me?"
"I always do."