ISABELLA
"Cinnamon buns. We're getting cinnamon buns."
I shake my head at him. His vibrant green eyes are set on mine, fighting to break my resolve. "We're getting crepes." I playfully yell as I slam my fist down on the dash of the car for extra dramatics.
We had been sitting in Harry's car for the past twenty-three minutes (yes, I checked), arguing about where we wanted to go for breakfast. It was half past ten and I was starved. I had insisted that we ate with Harry's mother this morning, but Harry had been quick to shoot that idea down He claimed that he wanted to spend some alone time. Not only that, but to show me the "sights" of Manchester. The first spot being this great cafe he'd frequent regularly when he was in school.
"Nice try, doll, but this is my car. My choice."
"But I don't like cinnamon buns." I whine to him. He looks at me as if I've grown another head. I didn't see how ridiculous my statement was. There was something about the cinnamon and cream cheese mixture that I didn't like. Maybe it was weird but it was all about personal preferences, right?
"How can you not like cinnamon buns?" He yells, absolutely appalled.
"Easy tiger. I just don't." I cross my arms in front of my chest. A smirk playing on my lips. I playfully turn my head away from him, directing my body away from his gaze, but instead, towards the car door.
"You're being ridiculous." He points out. I huff in faux annoyance, hoping to make my point, and in turn, get my preferred breakfast of choice. "Iz," he reaches for my arm. "Trust me on this one. They have these massive chocolate chip muffins that I think you'll like. Red velvet ones cupcakes, too."
My ears perk up at the mention of my kryptonite. The weakness of all sweets. Red velvet. "You're cruel."
"No. Not cruel. I think I win though." He winks at me. I stick my tongue out and flip him my freshly painted middle finger. This earns a hearty laugh in return. "Real mature."
"Just start the car."
"Yes ma'am."
Harry starts the engine. It stalls at first earning a string of curse words muttered under his breath. He takes a deep breath before turning the key in the ignition. Thankfully, it starts up without any problems. We drive out of the driveway and towards the main road.
We were only driving for ten minutes until we pull up in front of a brightly painted building. The streets are lined with equally as bright brick buildings. The sidewalks are full of people enjoying the early Saturday morning sunshine. I pick up my purse from the ground and sling it over my shoulder. Harry is quick to jump out of the car, and before I even get the chance to blink, he is opening my door for me. Something that I had grown accustomed to since we first started dating.
"Who said chivalry was dead." I step out of the car. A cheeky grin plastered on his lips.
"Let's go." He places his hand on the small of my back, guiding me down a block until we are at a pink painted building. There's a brown sign on top of an open door. Creme. "In here babe," he leads me inside. It's not too busy. A couple is sitting at the window, a young man at a table behind them working away on his laptop. In the far left corner is an older dark haired man, who's face is intently reading a newspaper.
I follow Harry up to thecash register. A guy, who must have been around our age, was standing behind a glass case. His head was facing down as he finished up someones drink order. "A chai latte for Megan," he calls out.
Harry is standing to the side. His eyes set on the different breakfast sweets. "Are those the infamous cinnamon buns?" I ask him. I wrap my arm around his waist, laying my head against his side. He looks down at me, a smile dancing on his lips.
"It is. Want one?"
"No," I shake my head. "Though, the chocolate croissant looks good."
"We can also get two of the red velvet cupcakes if you want."
"I want." I stand on my toes leaving a quick kiss to his cheek. He smiles down at me, before turning towards the coffee shop worker.
Harry freezes in his spot. His eyes set on the worker in front of us. "Well I'll be... Harry Styles, is that you?"
I look at Harry. His eyes widen slightly but quickly narrow. "Mason Stewart."
"It is you!" The brown eyed man laughs. He quirks his head to the side. Clear amazement written on his features. "I haven't seen you since secondary. Where you've been?"
"Around." Harry shifts on his feet. I can sense the discomfort that radiates from his body. I wrap my hand around his arm, squeezing it gently.
"Oh!" Mason shifts his gaze towards me. I look up at him but quickly break eye contact. "Who do we have here? Does the infamous playboy Harry Styles have a girlfriend?" He teases.
Harry pushes me gently behind him. His body is shifted so that he is now standing in front of me. "Since when do you work here?" Harry asks, changing the subject.
"I'll take that as a yes." Mason shakes his head, chuckling to himself. "I've been working here for the past five months. Decent pay. Helps with the rent."
"Right." Harry nods his head once. He pulls his wallet out from his back pocket. "We'll have one of your cinnamon buns, a chocolate croissant, one small latte and a large peppermint tea. Also two of those red velvet cupcakes."
Mason looks at Harry for a few moments before he turns towards the cash register. He types in our order, ringing us through. Harry quickly passes him the right amount of change before standing off to the side. I don't say anything as he pulls me towards a table in the far corner.
However the moment we sit down, I open my mouth to say something. "Who's Mason?"
Harry looks at up quickly. "Nobody important."
"Are you sure about that? Didn't seem that way to me." I'm quick to call out his bluff. It was evident that Mason and Harry were close back in the day. The way that Mason was talking to Harry was clear evidence of that. "Who is he?" I urge while smiling at him softly.
He lets out a low groan. "Not now, Isabella." He runs his hand through his hair, scratching the back of his neck as he does so. His fingers twiddle in his lap.
Mason walks over to our table, placing our breakfast treats in front of us. I look over at Harry who's eyes are focused on the cinnamon bun in front of him.
"Thank you," I say for the both of us. "This looks great."
"No problem love," Mason replies. He remains standing in front of us. His brown eyes shifting from the floor to Harry. "Mate," he begins to say slowly. I notice Harry tense up. "I know that the way things ended before-"
"Stop."
"Listen, I didn't intend for everything to get out of hand the way that it did."
"It doesn't matter, mate." Harry seethes. I stay quiet as I begin to pick at my croissant. I couldn't wait to hear Harry's explanation for this one. Another part of his past that he has yet to share with me.
Mason sighs in defeat. "At least come to my party tonight. At my place. You and your lovely lady here should come." He gives me an uneasy smile.
"I'm Izzy, by the way." I introduce myself. "And a party sounds fun."
Harry shoots me a look but I brush it off. A party sounded great. Maybe it would be a good idea to get Harry out of the house. Spend time with friends from his past. Whatever happened between Harry and Mason was clearly in the past. Maybe it was time to move past it and go forward with their lives.
"No."
"Come on! It'll be fun. We haven't gone out in a while."
Harry takes in a sharp breath. His nostrils flaring in annoyance. His shoulders have grown tense. His green eyes narrowing at me before he turns his head towards Mason. "Where is it?" His voice is deadpan, his eyes narrowing at me.
"Off of King street. Here," he reaches for a napkin and a pen. "This is my address and phone number. It'd be great to have you over, mate. The others will be there too. It'll be great to have the old gang back together. We haven't seen you in a while."
"For good reason," Harry grumbles.
"We'll see you tonight." I say breaking the awkward silence that ensued. "What time?"
"Seven, but any time after that is fine too." Mason nods his head a few times before heading back behind the counter to make our drinks.
When I know that he is out of ear shot, I give Harry a pointed look. "Why haven't you mention Mason before?"
"He's not important."
"Seems like you guys have quite the past. You and the rest of your 'mates'." I air quote using my fingers.
I don't say anything as Mason sets our drinks down in front of us. He sits our bag of cupcakes beside me, giving me a small smile. I return it, ignoring the audible scoff from across the table. When we are alone again, I look at Harry. My eyebrows quirked up, signaling him to hurry up and explain.
Moments past. Harry is too occupied in the damn cinnamon bun in front of him to talk. He eats it quickly and drinks his tea. "Shit. Fucking shit." He sticks his tongue out, rubbing it with his napkin. "That was fucking hot."
"Well you didn't order iced."
"I'm not in the mood for your snarky comments, Isabella."
"Then stop being a baby and talk to me." I retort back. He looks at me, his eyes narrowing.
"Hurry up and eat. Since you want to go to this fucking party later, we have to do what we were going to do quick."
I roll my eyes at him. Eating my croissant increasingly slower. I take short sips of my latte. I knew it was getting to him, but to be quite frank, I didn't care. Harry did this all the time. Whenever he didn't want to talk about something he'd be rude about it. He'd snap at me and clam up. I get that he has his past. I understood that he wasn't proud of half the things that he did when he was younger. But, that was his past. I didn't judge him. I wasn't going to look at him any differently. I loved him so damn much that I knew it wasn't going to change my perception of him. But of course, he didn't see that. Instead, he'd become the asshole he was when we first met.
-
"Are you done yet?" Harry calls from behind the door. I tug on the black leather skirt I had on. Making final adjustments to my outfit, I give it one last glance in the mirror. This will do.
I open the door to see Harry leaning against the doorframe. He is busy typing away on his phone. His hair styled back, his curls sticking all over. His legs are in his usual black jeans and a grey t-shirt fits to his body. "Ready?" I ask him. He looks up, pushing his phone to his back pocket.
"Yeah. Let's go."
He doesn't reach for me as I pass him. I ignore the pain in my chest when he walks straight past me. "Mum, we're going out." He calls towards his mother. Samantha walks out from the study, her heel clad feet clicking on the tiled floor.
"Alright. Have fun," she smiles at us.
"We will."
Harry doesn't say anything nor does he hold the door for me. I follow after him, shutting the house door behind me. He walks towards the car, getting in. I open my own door, the first time since we started dating, and sit in. I didn't know why he was acting this way with me. I didn't do anything wrong to deserve this treatment.
The ride is silent. Harry's grip on the wheel tight as he drives. We make our way through the busy roads until we pull up in front of a small house. Harry parks behind a line of cars.
"Let's go," Harry says to me as he finally opens the car door for me. I look at him, hoping he'd give me any sign that we were okay. His eyes are hard as they watch me step out. His hand gripping my wrist as he leads me towards this house.
I was beginning to wonder if this was a good idea after all.