Fat // Harry Styles

chapter nineteen

(early update, short chapter, just a filler, but ayye you get to meet Nicole. love you lots & thank you for reading xx)

chapter nineteen

"HARRY, YOU HAVE not properly lived until you've had my grandma's baked turkey," I declared while skimming the list in my hand that Mom had given me.

"Isn't it just baked turkey?" he asked, eyebrows knitted together.

I glanced over my shoulder to gape at him. "'Just' baked turkey? Curse words, Harold. Never speak them aloud."

He smirked. "You know, Harold isn't actually my real name."

"Well, for most people Harry is short for Harold, therefore I will call you Harold in a time of crisis."

"This is a crisis?"

Finally, I turned fully to look at him, placing a hand on my hip. "Yes, it's a crisis. You don't seem to believe that my grandma's turkey will cause a puddle of drool to form at your feet."

He held his hands up in surrender. "I never said such a thing. But I will be suspicious until I've tried it for myself."

I nodded approvingly, beginning to walk again. "Okay, we're looking for scallions. Have you ever had shrimp salad?"

"Can't say I have."

I tutted. "You've got a lot of catching up to do, Harold."

He was pushing the cart, following me as I weaved in and out of aisles with a concentrated face. We'd already had to circle back around to a couple of aisles because I'd overlooked what Mom had written. Harry didn't seem to mind, though. Occasionally he'd stop to look in the bakery section, and I'd have to grab the front of the cart to get him focused again.

"Will you be making another of your delicious cakes?" he questioned.

"Do I need to?"

"I mean, I'd eat it if you did..."

I laughed. "We've got to go back to the other side of the store, then, for ingredients."

Harry was already spinning the cart around. "You're the one who needs to catch up now, Delilah. Double time!"

"I assure you, it isn't going anywhere. Besides, we'd have to come back here. Let me just finish getting all the produce."

He pouted, his bottom lip jutting out.

I gave him a look. "Really? The 'puppy' face? You honestly expect me to give in just because you made your eyes bigger and sad-looking?"

His puppy face didn't falter when he said, "Is it working?"

"No."

"Damn."

"See, you've made us take longer now. I could've already had potatoes if you hadn't of held me up."

Harry let out a dramatic sigh, throwing his head back. "I just want some cake."

Taking Harry through the store was like looking after a child. Whenever I would stop to grab something, he'd bump the cart into my butt as a sign to hurry up. When I told him we'd have plenty of sweets Thanksgiving and he didn't need the bakery cupcakes, he threw on another pout and I eventually had to ignore him for him to let it go.

The toy aisle was even worse. The only reason we went down it was because they had bathroom necessities and I needed more shampoo. He'd found a Nerf gun that was broken out of its package, and I instantly felt little foam bullets hitting my arm. I'd glare at him; he'd snicker to himself and venture to pick them all up before reloading and shooting me again.