Tangerine

Chapter 74

Soundtrack: Pink Floyd - Coming Back to Life

Dedication: eleanor (@PropertyOfTomlinson) helloooo thank you for being such a lovely reader and voting for so many chapters in a row, i can tell that you read a lot of books :) i really hope you're liking this story so far and hope to hear from you soon, much love x

·

As Harry and I wake up from our sleep, we can barely hold back our dazed smiles. It takes only a moment for my memories of last night to flood back to me.

It happened. We had sex. Or, at least, a little bit of it.

We didn't use a condom. Neither of us planned on sex, or anything, for that matter, last night, so we were wildly unprepared and a little reckless, if I must admit. Harry pulled out. However, now that it's the morning, I'm a little concerned. More than anything, I want to be safe.

My manager has an assistant for the time being in LA. I'm not close to her in the slightest ‒ I've barely said ten words to her this entire trip; she's mostly behind the scenes when she's not with Mitch ‒ but I don't know who else to talk to in this situation.

After a slightly awkward, "Good morning," and, "Can I talk to you in private?" I'm able to lead her aside for a moment without the others taking much notice.

"I need a small favour," I tell her by the end of the hotel corridor.

"You know I'm your manager's assistant, not-"

"I know," I nod. "You're the only one who can help me with this."

"Okay... in that case..." she looks at me to go on.

·

Harry snuck off to his own room this morning, to make it look like it was the least bit used. I didn't see him for a good hour or so after that. Now that it's nearing ten, the lot of us plus the crew have taken our turns down the staff lift to get out of here unseen.

Three Suburbans are waiting for us in the underground car park.

Once I near the vehicles, I spot Harry chatting with his own temporary assistant next to the Suburban I'm instructed to climb into. We barely have time to pretend to greet each other for the first time today, we're guided into the vans so fluidly.

Mitch isn't here. He left slightly earlier on, planning to meet us at the airport. And thank god, because I really didn't feel like having another confrontation at such an early hour. I'm happy just to be here with Harry, and Harry alone, and to be led around by faces we barely know, thank you very much.

I look over at the younger lad, closing the backseat door behind me. He fiddles with a small fruit in his hands, peeling the rind into one long curly strip.

"Where did you find that tangerine?" I ask, having no recollection of any breakfast this morning. I was told that our first meal would be on the plane.

Harry looks down at the fruit in his hands and shrugs, "It was in a box in a lift."

I laugh out loud, hiding my face with my hand.

Sometimes I just want to carry around a big sign that reads, "Stop Harry Styles," and protest around the streets of London. Other times I want to praise the lad for his strange humour and get down on my knees for him. Right now, I would prefer to do both.

"Can I have a piece?" I buckle myself in next to him.

Harry watches my motions, blinking his eyes serenely as he smiles at me, "Of course, you can have a piece."