Seven Days [Harry Styles]

Four

Chapter Four - Thursday, We Exchanged Numbers

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"Hello, may I take your order?" I ask, smiling happily, as I close the register.

Like I said, smiling isn't that hard anymore...I suddenly have a reason to smile, and I can't help but feel that reason is a certain green-eyed boy.

Even though last night did end with a very noticeable tension, I couldn't help but look forward to seeing him again today, I didn't really know why. That chill he gave me when he spoke, when he confuses me, I needed an answer why. I wanted to understand why he was making me feel that way.

"Can I have a vanilla latte?"

The response I receive make me pause for a moment before I look up immediately, my expression holding a knowing look as to who this mysterious customer was.

"Back again, Harry?" I ask, my eyes meeting his as he smirks slightly.

"Glad to know you recognise me so easily. There isn't really any reason why I wouldn't come back, Violet," he speaks, pulling off his beanie and shaking off any snow in his hair.

I turn my back to him, as I start to make his vanilla latte whilst continuing to talk to him.

"You never really told me anything about yourself, Styles. Would you be kind enough to do so? Or must I go through a lengthy process just to find out what your favourite colour is?" I tease him, the smile on my face never leaving as I mix the mixture of ingredients in the cup.

He chuckles slightly at my response before answering.

"Are you sure?"

"Hm?"

"That you're not talking about yourself? You didn't even tell me your favourite colour and thus I should not be obliged to tell you what mine is."

Not this again. Did I really not tell him what my favourite colour was?

Sighing quietly, I reply, "Just tell me about you and what your favourite colour is. And I absolutely do not require a lengthy process of introduction."

Turning around, capping the lid on the completed latte, and I see him raise his eyebrows doubtingly at my response. He says nothing as I place the cup onto the counter and he grabs it straight away with his hands.

"If you really need to know, my full name is Harry Edward Styles and I was born on the first of February, and I refuse to tell you my favourite colour. And I reject to that statement, Falls. Lying is a sin and you've just committed it," he replies, before sipping lightly on his latte.

I glance at his lips as they become slightly moist from the drink as he runs over a small droplet that's strayed with the back of his hands.

"Who said I was lying?"

"You're lying to yourself by trying to conv—" he starts, but it cut off by the vibration of what I would assume is his phone, coming from the pockets of his jeans.

He sends me an apologetic looks before pulling out his phone out of his pocket and accepts the call, placing it against his ears. I don't manage to hear anything from the conversation he was having with the person on the other side of the call, since he talks in a very hushed and worried tone. I don't bother really listening in, because it has nothing to do with me, it's none of my business, and I shouldn't interrupt. But I was still curious, obviously.

After a few moments of speaking, he stops the call before placing his phone back into his pockets, a dazed expression back into his face, just like the first time I'd met him. He looks slightly lost in thought as he hands me the exact amount of money as payment for the drink.

I place the money into the register and when I look back towards him, he pulls out his phone, again, but this time, he opens up his contacts.

"Can I have you number, love?" he asks me, handing me his phone.

This time, it's my turn to raise my eyebrows doubtfully as I try to reply in my most serious voice, but failing miserably as a small laugh escapes my mouth.

"I hardly know you, Harry Styles. You could be an axe murderer."

"There's always that benefit of the doubt, isn't there?" he replies, laughing.

I don't say anything but laugh as I snatch his phone from his grasp before typing in my number - that I never really used for anything - and passing the phone back to him. With that, he stuffs it back into his pocket before leaving the shop, not saying anything else.

•

The rest of the day passes by quickly and before I know it, I'm settled under the duvets of my bed as I prepare to get ready to rest and energise myself for work tomorrow. I can feel myself slowly succumbing to sleep, when a vibration from my phone on my side table jolts me up, my eyes widening. Who in the world would message me at this time, or nonetheless, at all?

Grasping it, unlocking the screen, I click on the notification, opening my messages.

Unknown Number:

Hey, it's Harry here xx

I feel the urge to bury myself in my covers at my forgetfulness. I didn't remember giving my number to him that clearly, but it was probably the exhaustion just kicking in. I change his contact to his name before rapidly moving my fingers across the keyboard to type out my response.

Me:

Why are you messaging me at midnight? And when did I ever give you my number?

Harry Styles:

The least you could do it say 'hey' back, Violet. Don't you remember? You gave it to me right before I left when you accused me of being an axe murderer. xx

Me:

My apologies. And it just clicked, don't blame me, I have really short-term memory at times.

Harry Styles:

It's ok. Do you mind if I call you? It's better to speak to each other so I can hear your lovely voice :) xx

Me:

Sure.

Right after that message sends, I receive a phone call and with my cheeks burning from his compliment, I accept the call, putting the phone to my ears.

"Violet?" A low voice speaks through the phone, making me freeze slightly.

"Harry?" I reply timidly, my voice extremely soft, as I turn on the lamp on my side-table to provide a fair amount of lighting.

"Hey," he replies breathlessly, and I feel the warmness in my cheeks increase.

"Hey," I reply, my voice continuing to become softer rapidly. "Why did you call me, it's almost midnight and I have work tomorrow."

"I called in to tell you goodnight, love."

The air around me suddenly feels much warmer than it was moments ago as I throw my duvet off of me.

"Goodnight, Violet. See you tomorrow." I can feel his smile through the phone as one makes it's way onto my face too.

"Goodnight, Harry."

Before I get the chance to reply, he stops the call and I am left there, my heart palpitating as lie down on my bed, turning off the table lamp. I was feeling the exact same way I was this morning, and I just couldn't put my finger on it...what this strange reaction actually was.

Closing my eyes, my thoughts completely filled by a certain chestnut haired boy, as I slowly drift into a state of unconsciousness.