The air begins to cool and I shiver. Harry hasn't spoken for a while. He looks deep in thought, his brow furrowed.
It's hard for me to imagine Harry chasing after a girl like Violet. She seems like a girl who's too caught up in her own life to stop and fall in love, much like Harry.
At the same time, anger and a bit of envy bubbles inside me. How could Violet be so cold towards Harry, leaving him in the dust while she goes to Los Angeles? Didn't she know that she had all his love? Why didn't she stay for him, and give him the love he deserved?
He deserves love. I think to myself as I watch him. He deserves it more than anyone, even if he doesn't believe in it.
"Harry," I say, breaking the silence.
He looks up. "Hmm."
"I think we should go. It looks like it's going to rain."
He nods and rises, stretching his limbs as he reaches his full height. I stand next to him, still wary of the fifteen stories below the glass.
"Do you need to hold my hand again?" Harry asks teasingly.
"No," I retort. The air has changed between us, I can feel it. It's from revealing our secrets, I know it. I feel just a bit more comfortable around Harry knowing that he knows my dark past, and accepts it.
Harry smirks at me and we begin walking off the glass. I look at my feet, swallowing at the vast height we are above the lobby.
A split second later, Harry shoves me slightly, saying, "Watch your step!" in my ear.
I squeal and grab onto his arm as he laughs. I loop my arm tightly around his, almost leaning on him as he continues to laugh at me.
I shove him away once we're off the glass.
"Douche," I say, crossing my arms over my chest.
"Aw, Rosie, are you afraid of heights?"
"No," I snap. "I just don't appreciate it when British assholes tell me to watch my step where we're fifteen stories above the ground."
Harry laughs again. "British assholes," he repeats. "That's a new one."
"Yeah, I have a lot of new ones saved from the time I haven't seen you," I tell him as we wait for the elevator.
"Hmm, can't wait to hear them." Harry's eyes smile along with his lips.
We take the elevator down to the lobby and walk out to Harry's car. I slide into the passenger seat and sigh. I catch my reflection in one of the side mirrors.
My hair is slightly wavy from the shower I took earlier, and my cheeks are flushed from the cold. My eyes are bright and lively, although I can't figure out why. I think it might be Harry's influence, but I'm not quite sure.
"See, that wasn't so bad," Harry says, smirking. "You made it out alive."
I roll my eyes. "I'm never walking out onto the window again."
"You believe that, Rosie."
"Oh I will."
We smirk at each other.
Harry turns on the radio again, and I suddenly feel overcome with sleepiness, no doubt from my earlier flight. I rest my head back against the seat and my eyes flatter shut.
I hear Harry hum quietly along with the song on the radio. I listen carefully to the way his deep voice hits each note, almost like honey.
My thoughts drift to Violet. I wonder what she's doing now. Does she even think about Harry, when he must think of her all the time?
All signs point to no.
I fall asleep shortly to the sound of Harry humming and rain starting to fall outside the car as we drive along.
It seems like only seconds later when I hear Harry's rough voice in my ear, my name falling from his lips.
"Rose," he says again and I open my eyes.
The first thing I see when my eyes open is black.
I panic for a moment, the realize I'm looking at Harry's shirt, and that he's carrying me, my head leaning against his chest.
My first and only thought is, what the hell is happening.
I take in the feeling of his strong arms holding me so effortlessly, and the incredible scent emanating from him. I've never been this close before--well, not since the night he kissed me--and he seems to invade my senses as my thoughts go wild.
"What," I finally say groggily.
"I need your keys," he says. "You fell asleep in the car."
Still not fully awake, I fumble for my keys in my pocket and carelessly hand them to him, nuzzling my head back into the crook of his neck and closing my eyes again. I feel him chuckle as I heat the door unlock and then shut behind him.
Keys clatter onto the kitchen counter as Harry's light footsteps echo through the apartment. Rain falls heavily outside, adding to my drowsiness.
Moments later I feel Harry set me down lightly on what must be my bed. I sigh in my sleep state and keep my eyes closed.
"Do you want me to take your shoes off?" I hear Harry ask.
Entirely too exhausted to reply verbally, I nod to the best of my ability and Harry chuckles. I feel his hands close around my right foot as he unties the laces on my Keds, slipping each shoe off.
At this point, I'm almost completely unconscious again, barely noticing what happens after that.
I vaguely remember Harry pulling my comforter over my body and tucking a piece of hair behind my ear gently before leaving my apartment.
The next morning, I wake up still in my clothes from last night. I rub sleep out of my eyes and check the time. It's seven am on Monday--time to get ready for work.
As I slide out of bed, I notice a piece of paper sitting next to my clock on my dresser.
Intrigued, I unfold it.
Rosie--
You fell asleep in my car last night. Don't let in happen again.
--Harry
It was at that moment, as I read and reread the simple note ten times over, a silly grin spreading across my face, that I realized I have fallen for Harry.
Hard.
"Welcome back, Rose," Mr. Greenman greets me as I walk into the office a few hours later.
"Thank you," I smile, stopping to talk to him.
"How was New York?"
"Brutally cold."
Mr. Greenman chuckles. "Any snow up there yet?"
"Not quite, usually we get the first snow mid to late November."
"I see. Well, it's good to have you back."
"It's good to be back."
I set my things down on my desk, my organization skills immediately kicking in as I replace my items to where they should go.
"Morning, Rose."
I look up and smile at Zayn. "Hi."
"How was the trip?"
"Pretty alright. How was your art convention?"
"It was great, actually. I won a small award for one of my pieces, actually."
"That's fantastic!"
"It is, isn't it?" He grins and leans forward slightly. "Oh, and I ended up buying Perrie an 'I Love New York' mug for her coffee." He nods towards Perrie's direction and I turn in my seat to see that she is indeed sipping from an 'I Love New York' mug, a small smile on her lips.
"Good choice," I tell Zayn. "The home soda maker was a bit of a flight risk."
He grins. "I thought so too."
I begin my work for the day, wondering where Harry is. He hasn't showed up yet, and it's almost nine o'clock. He's never this late.
I had barely finished thinking this when Harry slides into his desk, running a hand through his hair.
Like a shark, Mr. Greenman steps out of his office and over to our desk cluster. "Styles, late again," he sighs.
"There was actually traffic this time," Harry says, glaring up at Mr. Greenman from his desk.
"How many times have you used that excuse, Styles?"
"I'm not lying this time."
"This is the fifth time you've come in late this quarter. You have five strikes, Styles."
Harry furrows his brow. "Mr. Greenman, I know I'm not exactly from America, but I don't believe that's how baseball works."
I can't help it. A loud giggle escapes my lips and both their gazes flash to me.
"Something funny, Miss Knight?" Mr. Greenman asks.
I flush. "Uh---no. Sorry."
Mr. Greenman nods before turning back to Harry. "Shape up," he snaps at him before walking away, back to his office.
Harry smirks at me.
"Shut up," I say to him before he can talk.
He laughs, picking up his rubber band ball and beginning to toss it in the air. "Looks like Rosie the goody-goody almost got in trouble back there."
"I'm not a goody-goody." I scoff.
"Alright," Harry snorts, rolling his eyes.
I narrow my eyes at him. "Do your work."
"Want to come over here and make me?"
He raises his eyebrows, his smirk never faltering.
"No, I'm good," I answer. "I don't want your British germs."
Harry laughs. "British germs, eh?"
"Did I stutter?" I raise an eyebrow.
"Damn, Rosie, you're feisty this morning." He tosses the rubber band ball in the air again. "Guess you're trying to prove to me you're not a goody-goody." He raises his eyebrows humorously.
"I don't have to prove anything," I retort.
"Alright, Rosie."
I roll my eyes at him and look back down at my work. With Harry sitting five feet from me, it's going to be hard for me to focus, with his teasing smirks and devilish grins. If only he could do his work, I would be able to do mine.
I almost laugh out loud at the thought of Harry actually doing his work.
Incredibly, I manage to get a quarter way through my manuscript by lunch hour, when my red pen runs out of ink.
"Shit," I curse as I scribble over post-it notes, trying to get it to work again.
"Having trouble?"
Harry stands above my desk, smirking, as always.
"My favorite pen is dying," I say, continuing to attempt to revive it.
"Rosalie, it's time for lunch--"
"My favorite pen is dying," I repeat, looking up at him.
"Rose---"
"My favorite pen is dying!"
"For fuck's sake, it's a pen. Here, have mine." He reaches for a pen from his desk, dropping it onto mine.
I take his pen in my hand, clicking it open. I scribble over the post-it note.
"Oooh," I say. "This is a nice pen."
"I know. It's my favorite."
"Well, if it's your favorite, I can't take it." I hold the pen back out to him.
"No, it's yours. I know where to buy another one, anyway."
"But it's your favor--"
"Take the pen, Rosalie, before I have to tape it to you." He smirks again.
"Thank you," I say, rising from my desk.
"It's just a pen."
"I like pens," I say as we walk to the break room.
"I can tell." Harry rolls his eyes and I smack him lightly on the arm.
"Ouch," he says humorously as we sit at a table with Zayn, Perrie, Lana and Phil.
"Are you going to cry?" I ask Harry, widening my eyes in humor.
"I think I am," Harry say dramatically, placing a hand over his heart. I laugh.
The other four stare at us as we banter back and forth. Zayn accidentally spills his Coke on himself, and we all burst into laughter.
"Have an accident there?" Harry asks and Zayn flips him the bird.
Lunch passes quickly, and soon Harry and I are walking back to our desks. Suddenly, Harry grabs my arm and pulls me against the wall of the break room, his face serious.
"Harry, what---"
"Shh," he shuses, peeking around the corner at the reception area.
Unable to see anything happening, I comply, thoroughly confused.
Voices carry from the reception area.
"Can you tell me where Rose Knight is, please? She doesn't seem to be at her workspace."
I freeze.
"Aaron?" I mouth to Harry.
He nods and looks back around the corner. My pulse quickens.
"I'm sorry, I'm unaware of her whereabouts. Can I--" Marion starts.
"We need to see her, now." A different voice.
"I'm sorry, but--"
"It's lunch hour, isn't it? Is she in the break room?" The same voice asks.
"I don't know, but--"
"Check the break room," the voice says, most likely to Aaron.
I freeze. If they come to the break room, they'll definitely find Harry and I.
Harry pulls his phone from his pocket and rapidly sends someone a text. I remain frozen.
He locks his phone and looks at me. "When I say so, we're going to sneak out the front," he whispers.
"What? They'll see--"
"Just trust me, alright?"
I look into his eyes and nod.
Just then, I hear another voice.
"Aaron, Alec, what are you doing here?" Zayn asks.
Alec.
Alec is the second voice, the one I didn't recognize. Fear shoots through me.
"Malik, where's Rose Knight?" Aaron's voice snaps. Aaron knows Zayn?
"Rose Knight? I think she went upstairs to talk to Crystal."
"Crystal? Of course. Aaron, let's go." Alec's cold voice sends shivers down my spine.
I hear rustling and suddenly Harry grabs my hand, pulling me from behind the wall and out the door.
He nods to Zayn and continues to tug me until we're a few stories down, in the stairwell. The elevator was "too slow and too dangerous," in his words.
Harry leans back against the wall, running a hand through his hair.
"Okay," I say. "I think you have some explaining to do."
Before Harry can open his mouth, footsteps are heard in the stairwell and I whirl around.
"There you are, Rosie," Aaron says, his eyes flashing dangerously. "My uncle and I have been looking for you everywhere."
I widen my eyes.
Uncle?