The Beacon [h.s]

8

Harry styles

"What's going on?" She asks in shock.

"Now this is gonna be fun." I playfully smile at her. "I'm guessing by the look on your face that you remember me. I remember you too, by the way." I raise my eyebrows before switching places with her, I sit on the rolling leather chair now.

I lay back against it, kicking my converse clad feet on her desk. She looks flustered when she turns around to face me, looking down at where I'm sat. A grin stays on my lips while I watch her act speechless. I can see the gears turning in her head trying to make sense of this whole occurrence.

"Don't think too hard now, you might pop a blood vessel in that little head of yours." I tease, finding amusement in her as I play with a pencil I took from the tray behind me.

"How, when did you..." She then furrows her eyebrows. "Wait. Are you following me? Please tell me you aren't a creepy stalker and this is just some messed up coincidence," she stupidly accuses me.

I chuckle under my breath. "You aren't that fucking important for me to stalk, smart ass."

"So what is this? Why are you here?" She crosses her arms over her light green colored dress.

"Why am I here? Why are you here? Seems that you are the one stalking me, Nyla. Let's recap shall we?" I rest my feet back to the ground. "First, I saw you at that bar around a month ago, you watched me wash my hands in the bar's restroom like a creep, you then bumped into me at the coffee shop not too long ago, and then I see you in the office downstairs..." I squint up at her, resting my elbows on my spread knees.

"You've got to be kidding me." She gives me an absurd look. "I'm stalking you? If I remember correctly, you are the one who came to my local bar, I've never seen you there before. You are the one who came into that restroom when I was still in it. You are the one who was in my way since I was at the coffee shop first. I was downstairs because I had an interview with this company that was scheduled a month ago! And how do you even know my name?!" She scoffs, shaking her head as her voice raises.

I stand up from my seat, immediately towering over her by my height causing her to tilt her head back to meet my eyes. I look down at her as I point the sharp end of the pencil I was playing with right under her chin.

"First off, don't raise your fucking voice at me." I grit through my teeth, staring at her for a long moment before I drop the pencil and it hits the ground.

She looks down to where it dropped and then back to my face. But she seems to be trying to act confident. She stares back into my eyes, her breathing short and puffed out, doing her best to stay put together.

"Second of all, I didn't follow you or stalk you, alright? This entire thing is just a shitty coincidence. And I know your name cause my damn father told me when I entered his office downstairs with you in it," rolling my eyes in annoyance.

"Wait...father? Desmond is your dad?" Her nose scrunches up in confusion.

"Sadly." I looked around my level to make sure no one saw this exchange between me and her. Luckily since this is the last desk and is cornered, there's more privacy. No wall or anything, just a good amount of space between us and the other people working who are also too scared to even look in my direction.

"So that means you're the owner's son? You work for your father? And he treats you like a normal employee? Or do you get like some kind of special treatment?" She rambles out idiotic questions I don't have the time for.

Special treatment, I scoff in my head. I slip my phone out of the back pocket on my jeans to check the time quickly and then slip it back in.

"You ask a lot of questions, you know?" I huff. "Yes, I work for my father, and now you work for me." A small smile stays on my lips when I walk around her to leave.