Matilda: A Harry Styles Fanfic

the purple lotus

Waking up to an empty house is something I'm not used to. Ella took Lizzy to school this morning, and my parents are both off at work, leaving me to my own devices. Not that I mind. I always am. I'm used to it.

My heart flutters in excitement as I remember what's happening today. I, Matilda Jezebel Thompson, am going out to lunch with Harry Edward Styles. This is fucking insanity. At first, I wondered if yesterday was all a dream. But receiving a good morning text from Harry himself told me that it was definitely real. In the text, he said that we can meet at noon, and it's currently 6am. Considering I'm getting lunch with my favorite person, I should probably look perfect. That leaves me six hours to complete all of my chores and get ready.

After I finish my morning routine, it's time to get things done around the house. As I walk into the kitchen, a bright yellow sticky note catches my eye. It reads:

"I expect the entire house to be spotless by the time I come home. Your father and I won't be home until 11pm, luckily for you. Don't go out and be a slut again."

I'm assuming this was written by my mum, considering that my father isn't considerate enough to leave a note. Even if my mum's note is anything but considerate. She's not exactly the kindest person, though. Not wanting to deal with the consequences of them returning to a messy house, I deep clean every fucking surface for two hours straight. I've been absolutely starving the entire duration of my cleaning session, but pushed through to make sure the house is sparkling.

Now that the cleaning is finished, I can finally eat breakfast. I'm going to have my favorite- tea and toast. Two pieces of bread are popped into the toaster to get lightly crispy, just how I like it. I grab a kettle and put it on the stove, waiting for the water to come to a boil. My mug gets placed on the countertop before boiling water is poured in. My favorite tea is an insanely delicious blend with herbal notes.

Breakfast is consumed very quickly. I need to get a move on if I want to look good by noon. After washing the dishes, I walk upstairs in a hurried pace. I may have over three hours to get ready, but this is lunch with Harry Styles. There's an extremely high chance that this will be my only opportunity to do that.

I learned yesterday that I barely own any makeup products, which makes me think whether or not a quick trip to a beauty store is necessary. Ultimately, I decide it is. I'll go and spend a small amount of money. Nothing too crazy, but enough to spice up my appearance.

I hop onto my bike, pedaling in the direction of the local shopping center. I'm almost positive that there's some sort of makeup store in that general area. The old two wheels of my bike bring me to a store that looks to be well stocked with a variety of makeup products. I walk inside, immediately feeling overwhelmed at the selection. Jesus Christ. How am I ever going to choose only a couple of things?

The aisle stocked with eye makeup catches my attention. Eyeliner, eyeshadow, and mascara sit in front of me. I feel so dumb. How am I even supposed to know which is the best option?

For some reason, I feel drawn to the pink eyeliner. It's a beautiful shade, similar to the one shown on the cover of Fine Line. But will Harry think I'm too desperate? Having makeup inspired by his album might make it seem like I'm just using him. And I'm definitely not trying to give that impression. The eyeliner is tossed into the basket I'm holding. Fuck it. Who really cares if I happen to be wearing the Fine Line colors? Besides, I think Harry's too kind to care about silly things such as that.

A couple of other items are placed into my basket- lipstick, a new eyeshadow palette, and some nail polish. I spent a little over what I was originally hoping to spend, but that's okay. The stuff I got will last me a while. I speed home, as I was out for an hour. That leaves me only a little over two hours to do everything I need to. My bike is laid on its side, right outside the front door. I'm going to bike to the restaurant anyways. There's no point in putting it away in the garage.