Hidden [h.s]

NINE (EDITED)

I walk into work on Monday dreading to see Harry.

It seems all he wants to do is annoy me, which wasn't difficult to realize. I wish we had never met.

Surprisingly, Harry's already at his desk when I arrive.

"Late," He says, spinning in his chair. He always seems to do that.

"I'm not late," I bite back.

"Are too."

"Are not"

"Are too."

"I'm not doing this with you."

I sit down at my desk, opening my manuscript.

"How many pages?" Zayn asks, leaning over his desk.

I flip to the back. "Two oh five."

"Not bad."

"You?"

"One sixty six."

"Lucky! Trade?"

"You wish." Zayn grins, sliding back into his chair.

I smile and focus on my work. I click my red pen open and begin making notes in the margins. I sip my coffee on and off as I make edits in the story.

I'm so immersed in my work that I barely notice when I'm hit with a paper ball.

And then another.

I finally look up after the fifth hit me. Harry smirks, crumpling up another paper, ready to throw. He brings his arm back and tosses it, nailing me on the arm. I narrow my eyes.

"Stop," I hiss.

"I was aiming for the trash can, I swear."

"Then get it in the trash can," I say through gritted teeth.

"If could, I would. I'm a terrible shot."

"Find something else to do," I snap.

"Like what?"

"Work."

Harry throws back his head and laughs, like I've just told him the funniest joke in the world. "That's almost as laughable as the sick medical intern."

I exhale slowly and angrily. I look back down at my manuscript.

Harry is hot and cold. Sometimes he'll be like this, annoying the living shit out of me, or he'll snap at me. Talk about bipolar.

Another paper ball hits me and I snap, grabbing it from my desk and hurling it back at him. It hits him right in the face and everyone around us bursts into laughter. I put a hand over my mouth. I never thought I was a good aim, but karma proved me wrong.

Harry's cheeks flush and Zayn howls with laughter. Lana wipes tears from her eyes and Phil high fives me.

I lean back in my seat smugly, feeling powerful. I raise my eyebrows at Harry, challenging him to throw another one.

"Lucky shot," He snaps, leaning over his desk and picking up a pen.

"Whatever," I retort and turn back to my own work. Moments later, another paper hits me and I scowl. I'm about to throw it back again when I notice blue ink on it.

I open up the paper, smoothing it out.

You'll pay for that, it says in block handwriting. It's surprisingly neat. I didn't expect Harry's handwriting to be so clean.

I click my pen open and scrawl a reply.

You deserved it and you know it.

I toss it back and he catches it with one hand.

It lands on my desk a second later.

Watch it, Rosie.

I grimace and toss the paper into the trash. I can't stand him calling me my pet name. The only people I allow to call me Rosie is my family and Aaron No exceptions; at least, not since what happened between my sister and I.

I hate that Harry knows it sets me off. He knows all he has to do is call me 'Rosie' or 'Rosalie' and he'll automatically win. I wish I knew something about him to taunt him with as sick as that sounds.

I lose myself in my work for the rest of the day, managing to ignore Harry's teasing. He reminds me of the boys that would make paper airplanes and fly them around just to annoy the girls in second grade. So basically, he acts like a second grader.

The weather seems to be getting colder by the day. I shiver in my sweater and turn on the heat in my car as I drive home. My dark hair spills over my shoulders and my cheeks are rosy red from the cold.

I throw my keys onto my couch when I get home, sighing. Aaron hasn't contacted me since last night. I don't want to seem like a clingy girlfriend, but he should have at least called me right?

I pick up my phone and dial his number, then hang up. If he wants to talk to me, he can call me.

I turn up the thermostat and make myself some tea. I turn on the TV and let my mind wander.

Before I know it, I'm asleep. I had no idea how tired I was. It must be Harry and all his antics making me this exhausted. I decide to ignore him from now on, and just focus on my work. Maybe if he sees he won't get a rise out of me, he'll stop bothering me so much.

One can only hope.