(COMPLETED)
Angelina knew the Amalfi Coast like the back of her hand. After all, she visited it twice a year. Harry Styles was sent there to film a music video.
Meeting in a pottery class wasn't expected, nor was the future they both built together.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Knowing that, yesterday, Harry had drunk more than me makes me decide to let him sleep the hangover off as I wait for Gemma to get to Mitch and Sarah's home. Through last night's dragged words and incoherent thoughts, Harry let me know that she was taking a taxi right from the airport and that she was staying in a hotel as she's going to be here for a short period of time to promote her business.
As much as I don't want to remove the warmth provided by the bed from my body, the awful smell of sweat and the faint traces of alcohol on my breath ask for a shower. Harry kept telling me how much he liked the sweet smell of almonds on my hand cream. So, in one of my many escapades to get food, I got us an almond-scented conditioner that got me a lot of thank you's in response to something Harry vastly appreciated. He mentioned that, whenever he wanted to feel like he was near me, all he needed to do was run his fingers through his hair and the smell would reach his nose profoundly.
The sight could be odd for others—seeing a person smiling because of a conditioner. However, it makes me start my day in a good manner.
When I go downstairs to start breakfast for all of us—assuming that Gemma might be hungry—I hear a car parking outside. A yellow taxi sits on the greenish path just as she comes out of it along with the driver, who smiles at her and leaves after getting paid.
Once she turns around and catches the sight of me waiting for her in the doorway, the same smile I've seen so many times on his brother emerges on her face.
"Hi, there," I open the door wider to let her in. "Gemma, right?"
"Hello! Yes," she kisses my left cheek while dropping her coat on a chair. "It's always bloody busy in here."
I laugh at her comment, noticing a stronger accent compared to Harry's. "I can't say I've faced it here, though Harry told me about you living in London so you must be as used to it as I am."
"Definitely," she tucks her hair behind her ears. "It's rather annoying but it's what you get when you live in a busy city."
I nod ever so slowly, gesturing with my head if she wants any of the breakfast that I recently prepared. And, when she agrees, I start getting the tea ready. "Milk? Sugar?"
