Monday
Adele has been dreading this morning all weekend. On Friday Bridgett had sent an email to everyone informing that the first function would be taking place on the last Thursday of term, and the Level 3 students running it will be Amy in the kitchen and Harry in the restaurant. Not everyone gets chosen, but Level 2 students do have to do at least three out of the six functions across the year.
As a Level 1, you never have to do functions, but for Level 2 and Level 3, they're a requirement. They'll never be as flash as something at a hotel, but the college certainly trains students to make it feel that important. Bridgett's email had said that Amy and Harry have chosen the Level 2s they want for help, and they'd be posted on the bulletin board outside the boy's changing room on Monday morning.
Things still aren't particularly breezy between Adele and Harry. The Sunday after they'd fallen out was weird - he wouldn't even register her existence, even though she said she didn't want things to be awkward. He was good at hiding it though, because no one at the pub seemed to notice. Something told Adele he may have mentioned something to his mum, though.
On Tuesday in the restaurant, he'd only spoken to her once, and that was to tell her, rather unnecessarily, that one table needed a water top up. Then at work on Wednesday, he'd ignored her where possible, or just ordered her around because there was stuff to be done. The odd look from the head chef in his office hadn't been missed.
Friday, he actually turned up to her house in the morning to collect her, and the first thing he did was apologise for being an arse, but it didn't quite carry the heart she expected it to. Then during the day he went back to not talking to her, and during service at college, he had Ben at the pass with him, leaving Adele to suffer with the ever delightful Ashley. At work, he was the same, but he wasn't so ignorant with it.
The Sunday shift, Harry wasn't actually in at all, but Adele didn't quite have the nerve to ask just where exactly he was. She heard later in the day he was visiting his grandparents in Hinckley after one of the chefs had asked Anne of his whereabouts. Adele's only thought was 'fair enough'.
The past week was a little easier, but conversation was still minimal. Tuesday, they'd sat on the same table at break time but nothing was said in the restaurant. On Wednesday at work, he'd asked her if she wanted a cup of tea when she arrived, but didn't offer again when her first answer was 'no'.
Then on Friday when she'd picked him up, he actually said 'good morning' and shoved his phone into the aux cable. She'd been stuck with him as a partner on meat because Roy wanted Ben to teach Ashley something with the lamb dish that he's notoriously good at, so it was hard not to talk to him. He still took Ben with him during service, though. She's sure he's been trying to prove a point. At work, he was a little more accommodating but probably only to appease his mother.
Yesterday was an odd one because his mum hadn't been in, so the assistant manager was running everything and it was a bit more awkward. Adele is pretty sure Harry isn't a fan of Mandy since he spent most of the day rolling his eyes, and he even muttered something snide to Adele on his way back into the kitchen. She'd felt a little better after that.
Harry hasn't said anything to Adele about his choices for this function next Thursday, so she's completely in the dark. People have been asking her all weekend and she's been struggling to explain to them that she hasn't got a fucking clue who he's chosen.
Once again, she hangs back until everyone else has checked the board, noticing that Bella is super pissed over whatever she is or isn't doing, and Hattie looks bored of listening to her. That bodes well.
Adele moves forward to check the list, eyes frantically scanning the page. It doesn't take long to find her name, directly under Harry's and listed as Chef de Rang.
Both Ben and Eden are in the kitchen with Amy, leaving Adele with Paisley, Hattie and PJ. Bella's irritation suddenly makes sense, though - she isn't on either list.
It's not until later on when Adele is at home doing her small bit of homework that she gets a text from Harry. It surprises her that he's bothered texting at all, but she's not going to complain after the hellish two weeks she's had.
Harry 22:37
Did you see the function rota?
She doesn't know why he's asking, or why he's bothered at all since she was apparently so completely wrong two weeks ago, but she's not going to ignore him for the sake of an easily answered question.
Adele 22:38
Yeah
She puts her phone down and locks it, not necessarily expecting another text from him since she answered his question and he's not been too talkative with her. She quickly finishes her single assignment and shuts her computer down, before changing into her pyjamas.
Adele puts her phone on charge and switches the fairy lights on around her bed before she turns her big light off, and then crawls under the sheets. She sticks something brainless on the telly that's mounted to the wall at the end of her bed, pretty certain that any minute now she'll fall asleep because her eyes have suddenly become incredibly heavy.
Her phone dings again, at least a reminder to put her phone on silent before she passes out.
Harry 22:42
Do you mind?
Adele 22:42
Of course not, it's your night. I'm flattered
She flicks the little button on the side to turn it to silent, but leaves it facing upwards on the bed after locking it in case another one comes through. That's her optimism returning again. Saying she's 'flattered' now feels stupid. No one says they're flattered at eighteen. Did she have a dictionary for dinner?
Her phone lights up again.
Harry 22:43
Good
She doesn't lock her phone just yet because the three dots on his side of the screen are still pulsing. She watches them closely, frowning when they suddenly just stop. Is he giving up already? It's torture knowing he might have something else to say but he doesn't know how to say it, or even if he should say it.
And then they start again, and she shrinks further into her pillows with nerves.
Harry 22:45
Can I pick you up tomorrow?
Adele 22:45
It's Tuesday tomorrow?
Harry 22:46
I know
Why does she suddenly feel so giddy? Adele knows she's probably being that stupid kind of optimistic again and she definitely shouldn't be. It means nothing. The only thing it means is that he's stopped being moody and he doesn't want it to be weird anymore. And neither does she.
Adele 22:47
Alright, don't see why not
Harry 22:47
I'll pick you up at 7:45?
Adele 22:47
Sounds good
She doesn't wait to see the 'read' receipt before she locks her phone again, and puts it back on the side. She's grateful to be too tired so she won't have to lie awake thinking about tomorrow morning, and why Harry suddenly felt the need to talk to her and ask to give her a lift to college. She doesn't think about much else at all before her eyes finally drop and she falls asleep.
~
Tuesday
For the first time since going back to college, Adele has actually done something with her hair. She distinctly remembers saying a few weeks ago she wasn't going to make any effort for the sake of a boy, and yet here she is. She doesn't even know what Harry is going to say. He might not say anything at all and just carry on with this weird silence they've had. She knows that's partially because she all but told him to fuck off, but she still stands by what she said.
She pulls her coat over her uniform and slips her pumps on, making sure everything is turned off in her room before she leaves. She calls her goodbye from the bottom of the stairs, and then hurries out the door before anyone can ask why she's leaving the house so early on a Tuesday.
Harry is pulled up already at the end of the drive in his Audi A3, the engine still running. Adele is sure either her mum or her dad will be loitering in the kitchen window again like they were that one Friday Harry picked her up, so she makes a conscious effort not to look that way again.
She slides into the passenger seat, attempting an even expression even though she wants to smile at him like a big idiot. Once she's shut the car door, she finally meets his gaze with a small smile. "Hi."
He's got one hand on his steering wheel and the other gripping the side of his seat, but his smile is bigger. "Hi. Y'alright?"
Adele nods. "You?"
"I'm just fine." He assures her. "Are you ready to go?"
"Think so... Why did you pick me up so early?"
"Thought we could go for breakfast."
She rolls her lips inward, but she's smiling beneath it. "I already ate."
He laughs once, putting the car into first gear and pulling off. "Then you'll be a cheap date."
Her eyes widen, but she doesn't think he notices since he's too busy looking where he's going. "Pardon?"
"M'joking." He laughs, glancing her way. "Not very gentlemanly of me to just take you on a date without asking."
"Glad we've cleared that up." Her laugh is nervous. She settles into the seat and looks forward, because it will not be good for her if he catches her staring like she could very easily end up doing.
"Where were you thinking for breakfast? And if you say the canteen I will get you to stop and I will walk to college."
Harry awkwardly scratches the back of his neck with a cringe. "Gonna have to think of a Plan B then, m'afraid."
"Harry..."
He giggles again. "There's a coffee shop in the other building. S'nothing special but it is better than vending machine coffee."
"Alright, fine."
"Will it do?"
"Dunno, see when we get there, I guess."
Harry chuckles, but turns his full attention back to driving without giving another retort.
Adele feels a lot more comfortable in his presence than she has done for a while, so even though most of the journey to the college is in silence, she doesn't feel half as weird about it as she would have this time last week. There are barely any cars in the car park, which means Harry has a pick of the spaces and chooses one right between the two campus buildings.
Adele takes her bag from the footwell and drapes it over her shoulder as she steps out of the car, pushing the door shut behind her. She steps onto the pavement in front of the car and waits for Harry, not at all expecting him to crash into her with a tight hug. She doesn't move, in fact she doesn't even hug him back because her arms are restricted by his hold on her, but she is struggling not to laugh.
"Er, Harry..." he hums his response into her shoulder, "what are you doing?"
"Giving y'a hug." He mumbles, pulling back and rubbing his scrunched up nose with the back of his hand from where her hair has tickled his face.
"What for?"
He spins Adele by the shoulders, encouraging her to walk towards the building she's only been inside of on a handful of occasions. "Because I was an arse and I'm sorry."
She looks over her shoulder at him, sure to get a pulled muscle in her neck with it. "You are?"
"Yeah. I knew I was being a dick as soon as you called me out on it, too. But I'm too proud and stubborn to admit it straight away so here we are over two weeks later."
"I said I didn't want things to be awkward, as well." She reminds him for absolutely no reason.
"I know, again - I'm an arse. My mum said the exact same thing, too. Told her what happened on Sunday morning and she gave me a right good bollocking for it." He laughs tightly, squeezing her shoulders. "Really likes you so she was like 'get your head out your backside and apologise now'. But it was a bit more shrill than that."
"Your mum likes me?" Adele asks, voice a little higher than she'd expected in its delivery.
They walk through the automatic doors, Harry falling into step beside Adele and pointing towards the cafe just on the left-hand side.
"I mean, there aren't many people she don't like, but she does like you a lot." Harry assures her, wandering into the small queue. "Thinks your work ethic is spot on, basically."
"That's always nice to know." She admits, voice suddenly timid.
"What d'you fancy?"
"Tea is fine, please." She looks at him with a smile. "Not really a big coffee drinker."
"Sure."
Harry orders once they reach the front of the queue, ordering a black coffee and a plain croissant for himself, and once he's paid, they find a quiet table in the corner on two armchairs.
"I also feel the need to clarify something..." he suddenly goes sheepish again as he pulls the end off his croissant, "'cause it's been buggin' me a bit."
Adele watches him closely as she rips the ends off two sugar packets. "What's that?"
He brings his closed fist up to his mouth as he clears his throat. "I don't have a thing for Ashley... I get along with her and stuff, but she's not really my type. She's a bit... I don't know, there's something about her that reminds me of Bella?"
What a fucking relief it is for Adele to hear that.
"She pushed me into a fucking door that Friday." She tells him with a grimace, tipping the sugar into her cup. "I don't think anyone else saw it, which I'm sure is a factor into why she did it. But yeah... I'm not a fan. It usually takes me a lot to dislike someone, but being pushed into a door is a pretty fast way to get there."
"What the fuck..." Harry frowns, bringing his coffee to his lips. "Did you get hurt?"
"Not really, which is why I haven't made a huge fuss about it."
"That's alright then. Not that you don't want to make a fuss about it, but because you didn't get hurt." He clarifies quickly.
"And I'm glad we've cleared everything up."
"Me too."
"And thank you for the tea."
His smile widens. "My pleasure."
~
Friday
"Harry, you already know what I'm going to ask you so get to it." Roy says monotonously as he passes the station in a strangely cruise-like manner. For a man with such a harsh demeanour, he seems to float through the room like a duck paddling on water.
Adele pays more attention to the way Roy moves than what he actually asked, so she's not expecting it when Harry says her name. She looks his way, blinking out of her little moment. "Mm?"
His brows raise slightly, and she does notice the way he glances to Ben quickly. "Service?" He nods his head in the direction of the pass at the front of the kitchen.
"Oh, yeah." Adele nods quickly, fastening her apron with a little bow at the front.
While Harry rounds everyone up, Adele wanders towards the front, rolling the material of her apron just once to neaten it up a little. She also collects a new tea towel and oven cloth since she seems to have misplaced hers from this morning.
Adele pays close attention to what Harry wants from her during service, though she seems to know how he works now considering she's worked with him four Wednesdays in a row during service at the pub. She's happy he's picked her today. She likes to think he only chose Ben the past couple of weeks because he was trying to prove an invalid point, but they're past that now. He's apologised, she's forgiven him, and she's also fallen hard into the depths of her stupid crush again.
She doesn't think it's necessarily a possessiveness in her, maybe more a jealousy, but everytime he talks to anyone that isn't her, she gets fidgety. And then when he is talking to her it's always good-natured, but never quite fulfilling enough, and she blames herself for that. It's like her ability to flirt has been tossed in the bin and she's an incapable and useless piece of dry soil. She needs to be watered so she can flower.
"I never pegged you as someone with a thing for older men, mate." Harry teases, nudging Adele's arm a little as they walk back towards their section.
"You what?"
"Roy - saw the way you were looking at him a minute ago."
A helpless laugh tumbles from her, and she glances over her shoulder at him as they walk. "Oh yeah, dream man."
Roy is a greying West-Countryman in his early sixties with crooked teeth and a patchy stubble. You could easily liken him to Owen from The Vicar of Dibley but with a bit more about him and a better sense of humour. He's tall, like twice Adele's height kind of tall, but his face is kind and he's always nice to her. Not in a weird way, though. He's just a good teacher.
"What is it - is it the beard or the height?" Harry prompts.
"It's definitely the accent, looks don't mean anything." She means that only partly as a joke. Looks don't mean anything, but they do help.
"That's good then, 'cause I can't grow a beard to save my life."
Adele pauses a little at the comment, trying not to accept that it seems like a vie for her affection. Ben saves her from having to produce a response anyway.
"You're still prepubescent, that's why."
"Hang on," Harry retorts with a scowl, "just because I wasn't growing body hair at the age of twelve, doesn't mean I haven't hit puberty yet."
"Were you really twelve?" Ashley suddenly asks.
It feels like there's definitely a pause in the air, because Ashley never joins in on any conversation unless it's solely with Harry. Adele has to wonder what's changed.
"No!" Ben cackles loudly. "Fourteen maybe but definitely not twelve."
"My time will come for a beard - mark my words, Dąbrowski." Harry warns, playfully pointing his knife at him.
"I don't really think you'd suit a beard." Ashley admits with a slight pout. "It'd hide your strong jawline."
Smooth.
Harry's expression lightens with pride, brows lifted once in Ben's direction. "Hear that, Ben?" He strokes his jaw with the back of his hand. "Hides my strong jawline."
Adele rolls her eyes. "Wouldn't hide your ego though, would it?"
"Hey," he whines with a pout her way.
It carries on like this pretty much for the rest of the day, right through service and even once they've got to work. Even though the time they actually spend working around one another is significantly less, one of them will somehow manage to find a way to poke a playful jibe at the other.
Eventually it encourages the other staff, and by the end of the night, everyone is in a good mood even on a busy Friday night. By the end of Adele's shift, she's poked fun at Harry's hair and the fact that he sometimes looks like a golf club with his tight clothes and big shoes, and he's only joked at the fact that her music taste is twenty years out of date. She doesn't think there's anything wrong with that and it does result in the head chef playing the entire Now! 56 discography through his speakers in support of her.
"Are you staying for a drink?" Anne asks once she's told Adele to finish her shift.
"Yes, she is." Harry answers for her. He finished a while ago, and has been sat at the very end of the bar ever since, out of the way of guests but in the perfect place to pester Adele when he can.
Anne looks from Adele to her son, and then back to Adele again. "I didn't know my son was in charge of your decisions now?"
Harry rolls his eyes at her comment, but his expression when he looks back to Adele is insistent.
"He isn't." Adele assures her. "It's already pushing one o'clock, I should probably-,"
"Adele..." Harry cuts her off, speaking in a slow drip. "It's Friday night and you don't have anything to do tomorrow. And you never have a drink and you're fuckin' eighteen."
"How do you know she doesn't have anything to do tomorrow?" Anne challenges him, a hand on her hip.
"She says it herself all the time!"
"I don't have anything to do, to be fair." Adele mutters sheepishly.
"Oh, well in that case go and bloody sit down." Anne shakes her head, bemused laughter seeping from her. "What do you drink?"
"Malibu and Coke." Harry answers again.
"Will you," Anne leans forward to smack his arm with the tea towel in her hand, "will you bloody shut up and let her answer for herself?"
Harry laughs loudly, head tipped upwards towards the ceiling as he does. "Sorry."
"Adele," Anne says on exhale, "is that what you'd like?"
"Yes please." She answers over a nervous laugh.
"Right," Anne sighs, "go and sit down."
"Thank you." She mumbles, before moving around from behind the bar to sit at the end beside Harry.
"Wasn't hard, was it?" He asks, poking her side.
"Shut up." She laughs with a shake of her head. "I don't like being a nuisance."
"Sweetheart, you couldn't be a nuisance even if you tried." Anne chuckles, already topping up her glass.
"I bet she could." Harry argues, and takes a long swig from his beer. "Been a nuisance all day."
"Don't be so rude, Harry." Anne scowls at him.
"What, she's been takin' the piss outta me all day!"
"That is true." Adele nods with pursed lips, taking her first sip through her straw.
"Yeah, but he needs it." Anne shrugs, patting her hand assuredly. "Gets too much attention 'cause people think he's got a nice face and it all goes to his head."
"What d'you mean, 'think'?" He retorts with offence. "Do you not think I've got a nice face?"
"Of course I do, my gorgeous boy." She coos playfully, and pinches his cheek so hard as she leans over the bar that he hisses with it.
Adele laughs. "Ashley also thinks he's got a nice face."
"Is that the girl who pushed you into a door?"
Adele is a little surprised by Anne's question, because it means that Harry has mentioned it to his mum. In fact, it hasn't slipped her mind that he's been talking about her to his mum when she's not around. Anne could've easily asked after her at some point, but she also supposes if she was the one to tell him to get his head out his arse in the first place then she probably checks that she's okay regularly. That thought warms her. She supposes she has a duty of care as her employer, too.
"Yeah, that'd be the one."
Anne hums with a flat gaze. "I'll never understand girls like her. Anyway," she sighs, "I'm going upstairs. I've locked the doors so come and get the key when you're ready to head home, alright?"
"Thank you." Adele smiles gratefully at her.
Anne leaves, turning the lights off, bar one or two for them, and then it's just Adele and Harry alone.
"Convinced she fancies you." Adele says distantly, blankly staring at the bar top as she sips from her drink.
"Who, Ashley?"
She nods slowly, lips slightly pouted. "Either that or she just really hates me. Couldn't believe it when she actually spoke earlier."
Harry giggles, already a little drunk it would seem. "I don't normally like to admit it 'cause it does make me look kinda big-headed, but I think you might be right."
Adele turns her head to look at him. "About her fancying you?"
"Yeah."
Her nod is easygoing. "She's one of those obvious flirts, you know? Isn't very subtle and knows what she wants. And is willing to shove people into doors if she needs to get it."
Harry's laugh is a low rumble, mouth open as he holds his gaze on her. "Got yourself on the wrong side of the rough, mate."
"What do you mean?!" She asks in a high-pitched voice.
"Pretty sure she came from The Academy." He cringes, taking another long swig of his drink.
The Academy, a secondary school on the Stockingford side of town, is one in Nuneaton with the worst reputation. That probably comes with being situated in Stockingford in general, but the students that come out of there are notoriously rough.
"Literally sounds like an institution for magicians." Adele mutters, a slight frown on her face as she wraps her lips around her straw.
Harry laughs hysterically, head craned upwards as he makes the highest-pitched sound she's ever heard him produce. She can't help but laugh with him, but hers is much quieter as she watches him with a fondness she wishes, in part, that she didn't have.
"Combination of Hogwarts and Azkaban..." He suggests with a curious tip of the head.
"All the students are Slytherin rejects." Adele adds, pointing his way with another giggle.
"Sorry, you're too evil for Slytherin so we're sending you to The Academy." Harry holds his hands up as he sits straighter, but he shakes his head like he's a bit dizzy.
Adele sighs thoughtfully. "Seriously shouldn't have changed the name, though."
"What was it before again?"
"Saint Thomas Moore."
"Oh, that was it." He nods in a manner that says he does remember. "Do you think it's better or worse than going to Georgie?"
"Georgie." Adele repeats over a laugh. It's the nickname for another rough school in Nuneaton, close to where Casper goes to school. "Dunno, I was in the catchment area for George Eliot and my parents refused to send me there."
"Not surprised, s'fucking dreadful. Went to Etone for a reason."
"Still shit there, though."
He frowns, sitting back a little. "Oh... I get it. You went over the road, didn't you? Little posh girl."
Adele is the one laughing loudly this time, for some reason highly amused by the term. "Little posh girl?! Do I fucking sound posh to you?!"
"Higham Lane is for rich kids." He shrugs passively, taking another long drink. "Everyone 'round here knows that."
"Shut up," she cackles again, "my family aren't rich or posh, you're talking utter bollocks."
"Nah, I've seen the Beamer sat on your drive."
"Company car! My parents don't earn enough to afford that normally, and you drive around in a new Audi for crying out loud."
"I paid for that car myself, and it's seven years old!"
"Then you know the value of money!"
"Alright!" He squeaks through a breath. "No need to get defensive about it."
Adele scowls at him, watching the way he finishes his bottle and promptly stands, moving around the back of her and into the bar.
"Which do you hate more?" He looks to her as he digs out two shot glasses from underneath the bar. "Sweet cheeks or little posh girl?"
"Little posh girl is way worse." She frowns, dipping her head to sip from her drink. "Kind of insulting, actually."
Harry fills the two little glasses with something but she's not paying attention to see what it actually is. "Sorry." He cringes, pushing one of the glasses her way. "When I was at school, I dated a girl from Higham and it left a sour taste in my mouth."
Adele watches him with her lips still around the straw and finishes her drink. "That bad, was it?"
He hums with a little grimace, and he tops up her glass with more Malibu as well. "She used to... bite me."
Adele is glad she's swallowed what was in her mouth because she can't stop the howling laughter that rips from her, and she has to lean down and hide her face for a moment. She covers her mouth at the thought of him freaking out over some jumped up girl biting him... God knows where, but she thinks his delivery was actually the funnier part.
When she sits straighter again, Harry doesn't look very impressed. "Are you," she chokes through her laughter, "are you not a fan of being bitten?"
"Not down there I'm not, no."
Adele squeals, covering her eyes as she rests her elbows on the bar top. "Alright Harry, that's already too much information for my little virgin ears. I don't really want to hear about your old girlfriends and their... kinks."
He barks a laugh. "So you don't want to know about Bella's w-,"
"No, I don't want to know about Bella's anything - shut up!"
"Oh, but it's alright you laughing about it a minute ago!" He scoffs, opening another beer.
"It was the way you said it!" She insists .
He idly twists the full shot glass around between his thumb and middle finger, eyes narrowing in on her with scrutiny. "Yeah, whatever. Drink this with me before one of us accidentally knocks 'em over."
"What even is it?" She asks, bringing the shot up to her eye line to study the colour, but it's impossible to tell in the dark room.
"Doesn't matter, just drink it." He demands with a smirk, and brings his glass to his lips. "Ready?"
"I don't know..."
"Don't care." He mumbles around the rim, before throwing his head back and necking the shot with it.
Adele hesitates at first, but takes the shot shortly after his disappears. Fucking hell does it immediately burn, like a hot coal bouncing it's way down her throat. She nearly chokes it up again before she's even properly swallowed it, but her efforts at keeping it down are surprisingly strong.
"What the fuck was that?" She asks through a tight wheeze, and immediately takes a long swig of her normal drink.
Harry's got one hand on the bar and the other covering his mouth as he squeezes his eyes shut, head dipped a little. "Chilli vodka."
Adele passes him his beer, practically forcing it into his hand and then up to his mouth. "Why would you do that to us, what's wrong with you?" She coughs, but she's glad he's struggling just as much as she is.
"I don't know, but I won't be again." He admits tightly, and then carries on with his beer.
The two of them drink their entire glass and bottle, and still Adele feels like her mouth is a burning building. She thinks her forehead is sweating but it's completely irrelevant given the fact that she's having to keep her mouth open in the hopes it'll cool down.
"Harry, get some milk or something." She begs, patting his arm frantically.
"No, that's cheating." He shakes his head furiously, turning to face her fully but he's got both hands on the bar. "I'll get you another drink, though."
"I think the roof of my mouth is going to collapse, I want some fucking milk." She insists, standing up to find it herself. "Can't keep drinking the pub's stock."
"S'my pub, it's fine." He brushes his hand at her, and moves to take her glass to fill it up.
"No," she stops him, snatching the glass before he can top it up, "it's not your pub, it's your mum's."
"Whatevs." He scoffs, and leans against the back of the bar while she finds the milk in the fridge. "I've got other stuff upstairs?"
Adele hopes to God that he can't tell how nervous she's suddenly become.
She pulls the milk out and pours a glass for herself, quickly drinking the entire thing. The way it soothes the burn in her throat and her mouth almost produces a little moan, but she manages to catch it before it slips through her lips.
"Sure you don't want any milk?" She asks, ignoring his suggestion.
"I'm sure." He insists. "Don't think there's any Malibu upstairs but I'm sure I can find something suitable."
She tries to subtly inhale a sharp breath, and something tells her he's not going to let up on her going home without another drink. "Alright, if you insist."
Harry grins when she turns around to face him. "I do. Might wanna get your stuff out the office so I can lock it."
"Sure thing."
Adele piles all the glasses they've used into the dishwasher and puts it on for one last wash, and then heads into the kitchen to fetch her things from the office. Harry locks the door that leads into the bar so that it's secure, and then the kitchen and office while Adele waits awkwardly in the small hallway.
"''Mon then," Harry nods up the stairs with an easy smile.
She follows behind him, keeping quiet for the meantime. Immediately, she finds herself in the kitchen of the apartment, which is modest but basic, with a breakfast table in the middle of the room. There are two doors on the left and three doors on the right, the door on the far right-hand corner cracked open just a little with a low hum from a TV.
Harry pushes open the door on the immediate left and wanders in, so Adele follows after him. She assumes it to be his room given what's in it - a small double bed pushed into the far corner, unmade, a desk covered in textbooks and notebooks, as well as a tall wardrobe and a chest of drawers. On the floor, clothes have been strewn all over the place, which Harry is quick to pick up and dump in the laundry basket by the door which he probably should have done in the first place. There's a strong black and white theme through the room - three walls white with one black feature wall, the one his bed sits under. It also happens to be the wall with the window.
"Wasn't expecting company," he laughs nervously, and then straightens the duvet on the bed, "can sit on the bed if you like."
Adele's laugh is small but his sudden sheepishness is endearing. She doesn't know if it's actually just because he's embarrassed or if it's because it's her. "I've seen messier, don't worry."
His smile widens. "I'll be right back."
She watches him as he leaves, and then turns back to the room part of her wishes she wasn't in. She toes her shoes off and leaves them neatly by the desk, along with her bag and her coat. He's left his Level 3 textbook wide open, so in her nosey nature that she cloaks as curiosity, she reads through the page he's obviously been studying, but finds herself a little lost without context.
While she waits, she checks her phone, perching on the edge of the bed as she scrolls through. She texts her mum to tell her she's still at the pub and having a few more drinks, but from her lack of reply, she assumes her to be asleep. There's nothing particularly interesting on it, but she looks through her social media anyway.
When Harry does return, he's got two bottles of beer gripped between his thumb, index and middle finger, and something that looks like crisps in his other. "So we're really boring in this house and there's actually only beer."
Adele laughs quietly, putting her phone away and taking the beer from him when he passes it to her . "It's fine, I can live with it."
"You sure? Feel like a shit host."
"Really." She promises him.
He settles in at the top end of his bed, nestling into his mound of pillows, and turns the TV on that sits on top of his drawers. He hands Adele a pillow to prop herself up, and the two of them once again slip into easy conversation about nothing in particular. Their conversation ranges from what Adele puts in her soup to make it taste so good (his words, and she refused to tell him), to their dream cars to their favourite film, and they each surprise the other with that one.
As they drink more, each of them become more unintelligible - words slurring and giggles becoming harder to contain. Crush aside, Adele didn't really expect to spend one-on-one time with him like this, so she's been rinsing it. Is that selfish or is that daft of her?
"I honestly did not think you'd be the kind of girl that's into soft romantic films like me."
"Why does that surprise you so much?"
"I don't know... I just think you'd be taking the piss out of it instead? Like it all seems a bit beneath you."
Her laughter is quiet and giggly. At this point, she's decided to properly lie down, but curled up on her side so that she can still see him. He is still sat up straight, his legs bent at the knees and he holds his bottle between his thighs.
"I don't mind a psychological thriller every now and then, but my favourite film is Clueless."
"That is a great film."
"I know." She says with an assured nod, and props herself up a little to take a swig from her drink. She's starting to feel herself tire, and she knows it's probably pushing some ridiculous hour and she really should be going home.
She sits up properly, looking at him with heavy eyes. "Can I please use your loo?"
He produces a small, bemused squeak. "Just next door."
With a gratuitous smile, Adele stands on her wobbly legs and navigates a difficult straight line to the door. She tries to be as quiet as possible now that it seems Anne has actually gone to sleep, and tip-toes into the bathroom. It's clear that only two of them live here given the two toothbrushes in the pot on the sink, and the two different kinds of body wash that sit on the lip of the bathtub.
When she goes back into Harry's room, she decides to sit beside him with her beer in hand, but makes sure she's not actually touching him. She's overthinking it and she knows it, but she still doesn't want it to be so obvious that she has a thing for him. She's surprised she's admitted to herself that she has a thing for him, but there's no point in denying it to only her when she feels butterflies in her stomach every time he walks into a fucking room.
She flops down heavily beside him, and takes a long swig from her bottle.
"Can I ask y'something?" He asks quietly, lips pursed when he looks at her.
Adele puts her bottle back on the floor again, and then meets his gaze. "Sure."
He watches her for an extended moment, warm green gaze flicking between her two brown eyes as if one says something different than the other. And then his eyes drop to her lips, and he wets his with his tongue, and her head spins. Is he thinking about kissing her or is that just her hazy mind playing cruel tricks on her?
"The nickname thing... callin' you 'sweet cheeks'," his eyes fall momentarily, like he's ashamed to ask in the first place, "did it really bother y'that much?"
She clears her throat and looks away, as if she's going to find a better answer written on his bedroom wall. Her heart sinks a little, but she needs to learn to better push her optimism aside, because constantly hoping he's going to profess his undying love for her after such a short amount of time is fucking ridiculous, even in a film world. She's confused as to why it's bothered him so much, but she has to wonder if it's a thing he does for everyone or just her.
"No, it didn't."
"So you really were jus' in a bad mood wi'me that day?"
"Pretty much..." she glances up to him with a cringe. "Sorry."
He hums a laugh, and his smile seems genuine. "S'fine. Really hard not sayin' it though, I won't lie."
"Well, you managed a whole year last year."
"Yeah, but... weren't starin' me in the face every day last year, were they?"
"No..."
"No." He smirks. He raises his hand slowly, delicately touching her cheek with the back of his index finger. "So if I happen to start using it again for you, are you going to be upset about it?"
Adele's smile widens, cheek pressing against his finger more as they grow rounder with the upturn of her lips. "Probably not."
"I'm gonna hold you to that," he leans a little closer, and her heartbeat skitters frantically, "sweet cheeks."
She pulls away when he suddenly pinches her cheek, scrunching her face up a little with it. "Ow."
Harry leans forward, stretching his arms with it. "I'm just gonna run to the loo." He glances to her around the side of his arm. "Do you want another drink?"
She shakes her head, a small smile on her lips. "No, I should probably get home before my parents get pissy."
"Alright, get your stuff together and I'll order you a taxi when I come back." He pats her leg, climbing over her without actually managing to catch her in the process.
Adele nods, but doesn't sit up as she watches him leave the room, and that's her first and only mistake. She really did have every intention of going home, yet her lack of energy truly overtook given the lack of another body in the room, and it's that reason that she falls asleep fully clothed and on Harry's bed.
~
Saturday
There's an incredibly unsettled feeling in Adele's stomach this morning. It has her grimacing, curling into herself and pressing her face into her pillow while a soft grunt leaves her lips. She inhales in the hopes it'll settle her stomach, even though the reality is it'll make it worse because she hasn't eaten anything for hours.
But that's not what pulls her into full consciousness. It's the incredibly unfamiliar, boyish and slightly sweaty smell that's somehow managed to embed itself into her pillow. She wrinkles her nose, making a mental reminder to have a shower and change her bedding when she finds the strength to haul herself out of bed.
A chill blows through the room, so she pats around for the covers to pull them up tighter to her, only to find nothing. "What the fuck..."
She lifts her head off the pillow, eyes barely opened but enough to see that this is definitely not her bedroom. She's slept in jeans and a shirt, on top of the covers. And there is a Harry on the floor.
There is a Harry on the floor. This is Harry's room! Why is he sleeping on the floor? Why has she slept on his bed? Why is she still here at all?
It looks like he's on a single mattress? Where he got that from she doesn't know, but he's still wearing his t-shirt from last night, hair in utter disarray where he's probably slept funny. His left hand is tucked behind his head, his hairy right leg poking out of the blanket and bent at the knee with his foot on top, and you can just about see his other foot poking out at the bottom.
There's a strong urge within her to drop to the floor and curl up next to him, but she's definitely not going to do that. He's sleeping on the floor because she's sleeping in (or on) his bed. Curling up next to him would completely defeat what he was trying to achieve - his own space.
And then Adele realises something - something that makes her so impossibly overwhelmed that she could burst into tears and then write a 1,000 word essay on. He's slept on the floor because she got too drunk and passed out on his bed, and he doesn't want it to seem like he's trying to take advantage of her. But he hasn't slept in a different room, either. This is his home, he could've gone and slept on the sofa and even that would be incredibly chivalrous. And still he chose the more uncomfortable option of his own bedroom floor.
Part of her hopes he'd laughed a little at her expense when he came back from the bathroom to find her already asleep when she said she'd be going home. She's embarrassed about it anyway, but she should be. She may only just be eighteen but she's drank before, and she's never passed out at the end of it. Now it just looks like she can't handle her liquor.
Adele tries to properly sit up as quietly as possible, and crawls to the end of the bed to pick her phone up off the floor where she'd carelessly left it. She presses the button at the bottom, and she panics a little when nothing happens. It's dead.
"Shit." She hisses; stressed.
For the first time ever, she's not charged her phone overnight and it's fucking dead. Her parents could be screaming the house down because they can't get hold of her, and she doesn't have any way of knowing if they are or if they're not.
Harry stirs at the sound of Adele's cursing, and her eyes dart to him in case he wakes up. That'll be her fault, too.
He doesn't open his eyes, but his head rolls to face away from the bed and his hand shifts to rest against his stomach. Adele's gaze drifts to his exposed leg again, and the dark downy hairs. Is it strange to be intimidated yet attracted to a lad's legs? Because she is.
She shakes herself and tries to come up with a plan. Firstly, she needs to use the bathroom before she wets herself, because that really would just top it off for her. Then she'll need to find out what the time is, because there isn't much in the way of a clock in Harry's bedroom and she has no idea if it's late or early or anything.
Stepping over Harry as carefully as she can, she moves towards his closed bedroom door and pushes the handle down in hopes it won't creak or squeak. She only opens it enough for her to squeeze through, and then she quietly closes it again.
"Morning, sweetheart."
"Oh my God." Adele gasps at Anne's whisper, turning to see her standing at the kitchen counter, already dressed for the day and making a hot drink. "Sorry, I er-,"
Anne chuckles, shaking her head with a kind smile. "You're alright, love."
"Drank more than I planned and well... passed out apparently."
"Nothing wrong with that. Is Harry awake yet?"
Adele shakes her head. "No, he's still pretty zonked out... I just needed to use the bathroom."
"That's alright, I won't stop you." She nods in the direction of the bathroom door. "I'm gonna make Harry his coffee, do you want a hot drink? You normally have tea, don't you?"
Adele's chest warms at Anne's hospitality. How can one woman be so kind and understanding and... non-judgemental? "I'd love a cup of tea, thank you."
"No worries."
Adele heads to the bathroom to relieve herself, and also to splash some water on her face to try and wake herself up some. She looks like a sack of shit, which is no surprise to her, but she looks especially rough this morning. While she's still in a locked room, she redoes her hair as best as she can, even though it's still a little on the frizzy side. It's certainly better than it was, though.
When she wanders back out, Anne hands her two mugs. "If you stick that under his nose he'll wake right up."
Adele giggles, nodding with it. "Alright."
Anne opens the door for the younger girl, leaving a little, "Get up, Harry. It's nearly lunchtime," and then shuts the door behind them.
It's nearly lunchtime. Jesus Christ, Adele is sure to be in for a bollocking when she gets home.
Harry groans childishly, and rolls over onto his front with his head resting on his arms. Adele sits cross-legged on his bed again, gently blowing on her tea as the idea of her mum and dad losing their minds over where she is plagues her.
Just as she's taking her first sip, Harry's nose wrinkles, and he lifts his head up. "Coffee?"
His voice is non-existent, rather just an impossibly deep and sexy croak - and that really is the best way to describe it. And still it makes her weak at the knees, even though she's not stood up.
His eyes are puffy and tired, pupils wide and distracting from his usually beautiful green irises. When he smiles at her, they close again, but he looks incredibly pleased with himself for some reason.
"S'on your desk." Adele answers quietly, and begins to stand again.
"No," he flips onto his front, "I'll get it."
She re-crosses her legs as he crawls to the end of the mattress and reaches for his mug, sitting back on his bum and blowing into the hot liquid. He'd all but stuck his arse in her face just now in a pair of tight briefs, and she's trying desperately hard not to let herself get flushed, but it's incredibly difficult with this tea.
"Sleep alright?" He asks, clearly fighting a smirk.
"Yeah." She laughs once, gaze dropping to her tea. "Sorry about that, genuinely didn't have any intention of just falling asleep here."
"No biggie." He chuckles darkly. "Was really amusing coming back from the loo to find you already catching flies and snoring."
Adele wants this bed to swallow her whole. "Do I really snore?"
His giggle is mischievous. "No, you don't."
"M'sorry you had to sleep on the floor."
"Don't mind it, have a spare mattress under my bed for a reason."
"Incredibly organised of you, I have to say."
"Glad you approve." He grins proudly.
She smiles again, taking a longer drink of her tea this time. "I hate to be more of a pain, but d'you have a phone charger I can use? Phone died overnight and I never told my parents what I was doing."
"Yeah, sure. It's just by my bed, can unplug mine." He points behind him. "I did ring your mum and let her know where you were, though."
Adele pauses on her venture to the phone charger, brows pulled together as she stares at him with a little confusion. "You called my mum?"
"Yeah." He says easily. "Obviously it was like four in the morning so she didn't answer, but I left her a voicemail."
"Harry, you didn't have to do that." Her heart might burst any moment now. "How did you even get her number?"
"Mum has it on her next-of-kin list downstairs." He shrugs, sipping his coffee again. "Used to have to do it for Bella all the time, it's honestly not a big deal."
She brushes over the part about Bella and continues to internally coo over this incredibly good lad. "Thank you."
She hands him his phone as she plugs hers in, choosing to sit on the edge of the bed now.
"She's texted me, actually." He mumbles, a quizzical look on his face. "Says, 'Hi, Harry. Thank you for letting us know about Adele and for taking care of her. Can't say I know too many boys who'd do the same. If you do end up bringing her home, make sure you come in and say hello. Gwen.' And she put three kisses on the end."
Adele breathes a laugh, shaking her head. She's sure he added the last bit to tease her, but she also wouldn't put it past her mother to do so. "Congrats, Harry. You've pulled."
"Looks like it, dunnit? Invited in for a cuppa as well." He beams, putting his phone aside while he finishes his coffee.
Once they've both finished, Harry takes Adele's empty mug from her to leave it in the kitchen to be washed up later. He leaves her alone for ten minutes to take a shower, taking a change of clothes with him. The helpless part of her watches his legs as he leaves again, and she's squeezing her thighs together from the not entirely unfamiliar but certainly unwelcome itch.
Adele calls her mum when her phone turns back on, and though Gwen seems a little short with her, she actually seems more interested in Harry and what he's like. His return is both a blessing and a curse since it's half way through her conversation with her mother, so she hastily ends the call with a, "We'll talk about it later."
He's already dressed which relieves her, because the last thing she needs this morning is a fucking heart attack. Seeing him all squeaky clean with a mop of wet hair reminds her that she needs a good shower when she gets in. If Harry does decide to stay for a cuppa, she doesn't know if she should take one while he potentially chats up her mum, or whether she should just quickly change and stick a load of deodorant on until he decides to leave. Why is she overthinking this?
Adele says goodbye to Anne as they leave, and then Harry bundles her out of the door to the car, both of them hoping none of the chefs have seen because that's sure to bring along teasing in one form or another.
As they chat in the car with the radio on a low volume, Adele notices that he's pushed his hair back with that headband again, and if she weren't so fucking obvious, she'd stare at him all day. To distract herself she makes sure she's facing properly forward, and not getting comfortable in his car. It's only a five minute drive but five minutes can make all the difference.
Harry does come inside with her, but she's grateful that the first person they encounter is someone that he already knows.
"Harryyy!" Casper sings excitedly, leaping from his place on the sofa.
"Hey, little man!" Harry returns with a chuckle, rubbing her brother's soft hair where he's immediately wrapped himself around Harry's legs.
Gwen pokes her head around the dining room door, a flat glare aimed at her daughter. Her gaze then shifts to where her youngest son clings to Harry with delight, and her eyebrows shoot up, eyes widening.
"Is that Harry?" She mouths, a little too obviously for Adele's liking.
Adele pushes her into the dining room and out of sight, certain that Harry can manage her brother for a minute on his own. "Why are you being weird?" She hisses.
"Is that him?" She whispers back, and a smug smile grows on her face.
"Yes, that's Harry."
"He's so good-looking! How'd you m-,"
"Shut up!" Adele cuts her mum off in a panicked hiss, smacking her arm in irritation.
"Gwen?!" Adele's father calls from somewhere upstairs, interrupting the two women.
"Hang on, Baz!" Gwen calls back, and then squeezes out of Adele's little trap to hurry back towards Harry. "Hi, Harry," she gushes like she's fifteen all over again, "I'm Gwen, Adele's mum."
Adele finds her already shaking his hand, he with a particularly thrilled look on his face. Casper is just crawling back onto the sofa, and the only place Adele wants to crawl is back into bed.
"Hi," Harry laughs awkwardly, looking to Adele, probably for help, "Sorry she didn't come home, that's my fault."
"Don't be silly, you've brought her back in one piece and that's all we care about."
"Until you leave and I get the 'you're so irresponsible' lecture." Adele mutters stupidly.
Gwen turns a harsh glare on her daughter, and Adele's eyes drop to the floor. She swears it's Harry that laughs at the silent exchange between mother and daughter, but she's too busy stressing her fingers into her tired eyes to actually see.
"Never talks back like that," her mother comments, and Gwen is right - she doesn't, "showing off for you, Harry."
"Mum," Adele groans, head rolling backwards as Gwen giggles at her expense.
The only lad Adele ever brought home was her boyfriend from Year 8, and Ben while he and Eden were madly pining over one another last year. Gwen has never had to embarrass Adele before but she is certainly doing a good job of it now.
"Gwen?!" Baz calls again, and Adele tries not to wince at the harshness in his tone.
Her mother sighs in a stroppy manner, looking between Adele and Harry, "Wait right here. Ads - don't let him leave."
Adele stares after her mother with an incredulous expression. "I swear she's not always this... hyped up."
Harry shakes his head, clear amusement in his eyes. "S'fine, I don't mind."
"Well, I do." She's still frowning. "Do you want a coffee?"
"Um..." he feels around for his phone, pulling it out of his back pocket to check the time.
Adele has the impression he wasn't actually going to hang around, and even though she absolutely doesn't blame him, it does deflate her somewhat. "Harry," she mumbles, only continuing when he looks at her, "you don't have to."
He smiles, a breathy laugh leaving him. "No, I was just supposed to meet Lewis in town but I can't really be arsed, to be honest."
"I'm not gonna be offended if you want to go, you don't need to-,"
"No," Harry shakes his head with another laugh, "seriously I'd rather stay here but he already thinks I spend too much time with you and I don't know what excuse to use to bail."
Lewis already thinks Harry spends too much time with you, Adele repeats internally. Does he? A lot of it is unavoidable since they work together as well, now. But they don't spend that much time together outside of that. Last night was an exception, but what else is there? They've just spent two weeks ignoring each other.
"You don't need to bail on him for the sake of a rubbish cup of tea." Adele realises that it sounds like she's all but pushing him out the door, but she just doesn't know how to act now.
Why are his friends under the impression they spend all of their free time together? Why would he tell her that in the first place, and why does he want to stay for a cup of tea when he could probably be getting drunk with his mates? Does he feel like he has to stay because her mum is a bit pushy and he feels responsible for keeping her out all night?
All these questions float around in Adele's head and she knows damn well she won't be brave enough to ask any of them.
Harry studies Adele's face for a moment, and his expression grows oddly pained. He looks at his phone again, thumbing over the screen with his ponder.
"Harry, it's your choice." She reminds him softly. "Won't be upset if you decided to go meet Lewis. My tea making skills are dire and Mum's are worse."
He smiles, eyes still on his phone. "Alright. But you're working tomorrow?"
She nods timidly. "Yeah, I'm in at ten, I think."
"Alright, sweet." He nods, a conclusive feel to it.
Adele walks him to the door, calling up the stairs to her mum before she opens it. "Harry's leaving!"
"What?!" Gwen screeches, appearing at the top of the stairs. "Why, I thought you were staying for tea."
"He has a life Mum, and your tea is crap."
"It's true!" Baz calls from wherever he is again, and it causes her and Harry to laugh.
"See," she gestures vaguely, "he's got other plans."
Gwen sighs, a soft pout on her lips. "Alright, fine. But next time, you'll stay and I will make you a terrible cuppa and you will hate it but pretend to like it."
Harry's grin is wide, a single nod given with it. "Absolutely, Mrs Hahn."
Adele rolls her eyes, moving around him to open the front door. He steps outside, and she follows behind him, pulling the door to without shutting it.
"Hug?" He questions with wide arms.
She produces a single laugh. "Can do, but I'm disgusting."
"No, you're not." He shakes his head with a soft frown, and wraps his arms tightly around her shoulders.
Adele does the same around his middle, head buried into his chest as she subtly inhales a breath to take in the way he smells. She'd smelled a similar thing on his pillow this morning, but it's cleaner now. Her head spins a little because proximity like this is not helping her feelings at all, and yet the last thing she wants to do is let him go.
But, he releases her all too quickly, and wanders down the front path to his parked car. Adele watches closely as he pulls the door open, heart skipping a beat when he looks to her over the top of the car.
"See you later, sweet cheeks." He calls, leaving her with a wink and a breezy and cheesy smile, before dipping into the car.
Adele barely manages a word in response, not that she needed to, and she does spot his lazy wave as he turns around, but her wave is incredibly tiny in comparison.
All she knows is that she hates everything about this because she's growing infatuated with him and yet the last thing she wants to appear is besotted with him because he most probably doesn't feel the same way about her. It's difficult to tell because they work closely together four days out of seven, but she doesn't particularly seem like his type.
Bella is a part time model, for crying out loud. On her weekends, she makes her money doing modelling, and Adele will never have the courage to do that. She'll never understand why Bella applied to catering college in the first place, but she thinks it probably has something to do with her parents, who both own one of the nicer restaurants in Coventry. There aren't many. But she's thin and tall, and glamorous in pretty much every way besides her behaviour.
And Adele just... isn't.