Matilda | Harry Styles

TWENTY-SIX

"Oh, they're perfect, Izzy."

Ally's eyes were fixed on my laptop, which I'd shakily placed on the desk in front of her. It was later in the evening, now, and we were all in her hotel room - her, Stella, Harry, and I, to look over the shots I'd taken. She'd been surprised that Harry had requested for us to show her and Stella an end result so soon, but Harry had been quick to tell her how I hadn't stopped working from the moment she'd requested my help.

The photos had turned out even better than I'd envisioned. We'd tested out photos with each of the fruits I'd bought, before finally settling on the pomegranate. Harry had asked if I'd wanted it broken up, and when I'd told him that I had, he'd grabbed a rather blunt butter knife from the tray that our breakfast had arrived on, and begun hacking at it.

I'd eventually taken the knife from him, following the line of the shallow cut he'd begun to make in the shell of the pomegranate for a few more strokes, before I'd drawn it back out. I pursed my lips. "Maybe we should just pull it apart - so it looks less uniform."

He didn't hesitate to draw his fingers into the gash we'd created, then, and yank as hard as he could. His face strained for a mere second before he'd torn the fruit into two halves. My eyes widened at how quickly he'd managed to separate it.

He'd taken one of the halves back over to his position in front of the wall, and had continued to mess around with it. And following my direction, he'd dug his fingers into it, whilst simultaneously sinking his teeth into it, causing the juice to run along his wrist and drip down his arm, coating his sleeve in translucent red. I'd snapped multiple photos, including one where he'd torn off the bite into his mouth, which I'd also chosen to give to Ally. But from the moment I'd taken the first, with his teeth sunken into the fruit, his eyes squinted but still fixed on my lens, I knew that was the one I was hoping they'd pick.

I wasn't quite sure how I'd done it, but I had - I was past thirty-six hours without sleep, now, and my body was just about begging to give up on me - but I'd done it. With Harry, I'd done it.

I exhaled, bringing my hands over my face as a deep sense of relief overtook me. I felt my shoulders drop, finally, as the weight lifted off them. I felt Harry's arms immediately wind around me, dismissing the fact that we were in a room with both Ally and Stella, pulling me into his chest without a moment of hesitation.

"I told you," he murmured against my hair, as a breathy, relieved laugh escaped my lips, against his chest. If I'd had any plans to make an attempt at keeping my cool, here, they were out of the window - this felt amazing. He repeated, then, kissing the top of my head, "I told you, Iz."

He had. He'd told me exactly that. He was a flawless model, to say the least - that had, somehow, made it even more difficult. The majority of the photos we'd taken would've been feasible; he just worked, at every angle, but when we'd finally narrowed it down to two, he'd promised me that Ally, and every other person she'd have to consult, would be obsessed.

"I mean," Ally leaned back in her chair, her eyes still fixed on my laptop. She continued, after shaking her head slightly in disbelief, "I can't imagine anything that would've been better. Everybody's going to love them - right, Stella?"

Harry's arm remained snaked around my waist as Ally peeled her eyes from the computer, only to look at Stella, in the seat beside her. But Stella's eyes didn't even appear to be on the computer - instead, they were fixed exactly where Harry's arm connected with my body, a stony expression on her face.

She blinked, then - harshly, suddenly - and drew her eyes back to the computer. Her tone didn't at all match the look I'd received only moments before; it was bright, and amicable, "Definitely."