Seven Days [Harry Styles]

Two

Chapter Two - Tuesday, We Talked

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It was really quiet today.

Today was just a normal Tuesday, like many others, but the amount of customers that came in were fewer than usual. We were supposed to be packed with people, but apparently they thought against getting a coffee to warm themselves.

Maybe it was just the fact the winter was ending soon, who knew? I'd only been working as a barista for less than a year anyway.

There was this small family in one of the booths we had, the children laughing and smiling as they wore santa hats and played chase with each other. I could feel my eyes water slightly looking at them, so I chose to abruptly turn away from the joyful sight.

The counter was facing the front doors, so I could see people passing by, whether it be families, or couples or just businessmen trying to rush around and make it to work on time. Shaking my head slightly, I spin around, prepared to put my apron up and call up the next person working shift. Mine was ending in approximately two minutes and I couldn't wait to actually drink coffee.

Walking inside, I hang my apron up - which was more like a basic uniform to make us look more professional - before ringing up the person who was apparently supposed to take next shift. I really didn't bond with the staff that much, and it's not because I couldn't, I just didn't want to.

Picking my purse up, I grasp the coffee - the one that I'd made for myself earlier on when no one was ordering - and push the side door of the counter open. Scanning the room for a seat to make myself comfortable with while waiting for the person working the next shift, my eyes widen slightly when I spot the same curly haired boy from last night.

I don't exactly ever remember serving him or even talking to him. Did I miss him? It wasn't that busy and I would've clearly remembered if he came in.

He sat there with the same cup from yesterday, staring dazedly out the windows of the coffee shop, the only movement occurring is the slight rise of his chest as he breathes.

Somehow, I find my feet moving and before I know it, I'm standing to the side of his booth, staring at him.

"Could I sit here?" I suddenly ask him, without warning.

Where did all this courage come from?

He looks up at me, his dazed expression turning into a soft one as he nods his head in approval. I sigh in relief as I slide into the seat opposite his, setting down my cup.

Just like a replica of yesterday, silence befalls us both as we both sit there. It wasn't a tense silence, but it wasn't a comfortable or relaxing one either.

Glancing down at his cup, I realise that it is the exact same one from yesterday, only that it was now dirtier in comparison to last night. I couldn't really tell if there was any remainder of latte in it, since it was completely opaque.

Why didn't he just order another cup? Maybe he just wanted to sit down and enjoy the warmth so he used the cup to act like he ordered something. I wouldn't say I've never done it before, of course I have. I chose against commenting on it. What good would it do me anyway to bother with someone else choices?

He won't exactly be obliged to tell me, as so he had said the previous time.

After he'd left last night, my thoughts were swarmed with his statement towards me, and somehow, I just couldn't keep that fake smile on my face the rest of my shift yesterday and today. It was almost impossible after those words.

"Violet."

"Huh?" I slur, snapping out of my thoughts.

"That's your name right?" he responds, his eyes still fixated on the windows

I nod awkwardly, and started tapping my fingers against the table.

"Yeah...that's my name. How did you know that?" I ask stupidly, seeking conversation.

"It was on your name tag, and I just happened to remember," he replies, laughing slightly. I really am an idiot.

I smile, trying my best to hide my embarrassment before asking him another question.

"What's yours? Like as in your full name..."

"Harry."

"Don't you have a last name?" I prod, confused.

"Violet, was it? I do have a last name, and it's only that you didn't tell me yours yet and as I had said before, on the first time we met, that I'm not exactly obliged to tell you anything." He cheekily smiles, turning his head to face me.

I was feeling terribly puzzled after hearing his words. I couldn't tell if he was being serious or that he meant to joke around with me. Of course, what he mentioned was right too, I'd dismissed common courtesy and he was not forced to tell me anything. I was just this girl that happened to take his order.

Do I tell him my last name? What should I say?

"Why did you come back?" Is the first thing that escapes my mouth as I move strands of hair away from my face.

I didn't even understand myself on why I even asked that question. It's obvious that he probably liked the atmosphere of the place and that's why he came back. He's probably going to tell me off again, I should really learn to keep my mouth shut, shouldn't I?

"Multiple reasons, one of them being the atmosphere of this place."

He startles me with the response I never hoped to receive. I'd expected him to tell me that he's not obliged to tell me anything. I don't say anything, afraid to speak and say something wrong.

As awkward the situation was, I was really enjoying talking to this mysterious boy. I was feeling something in my heart I hadn't felt in a long time. Interacting with him...just felt so exhilarating.

"You're not the type to just stop asking questions, Violet," he inquires, pushing back a strand of hair on my face behind my ear. I feel a blush make it's way onto my face as he draws his hand back.

What did he want from me? Did he want me to ask questions or did he want me to not say anything at all?

"What's the point of asking you questions if you're not going to reply to them?" I mutter, loud enough for him to hear.

"I never told you that you couldn't ask me questions, love. I just told you that sometimes I have the right not to tell you certain bits of information freely."

I stare at him, trying to comprehend his words. Finally understanding what he meant, I speak up again, my curiosity getting the better of me.

"So, Harry, what's your last name? My last name is 'Falls' and it's weird, I know, but I can't really change it."

"Since you so graciously asked," he begins sarcastically, grinning, and after such a long time, I can feel a real smile plaster itself on my face, "my last name is 'Styles'," and mimicking me, he continues, "it's weird, I know."

I smile slightly at his behaviour before responding delightfully.

"Nice to meet you, Styles."

"Same goes for me, Falls."

I am about to respond when I glance over at the counter and I see the next person working shift appear, preparing to start hers, and I emanate a sigh. Her arrival also meant my departure. I look back at Harry, prepared to tell him that I need to leave, when he stands up, grabbing his cup with him.

Without saying another word, he pushes his chair in and walks towards the front door, but not before stopping beside me.

"Keep that smile on your face, Violet. Believing you won't be as hard with that smile etched to your face," he whispers into my ears, his breath fanning my ears.

I stand there, my cheeks turning a crimson red as I am at a loss for words. I don't get to reply to him as just like yesterday, the door chimes, signalling he's left, and by the time I turn around and run out the door, he's nowhere to be seen.