Lennon.
"You're late."
I sighed evidently and pushed past Nia, avoiding her and the front counter as I dragged my feet into the kitchen. She hadn't even looked up to check if it was me or not.
But it was Monday morning; the only income we get is the business species that are too late or too lazy to wait in the queue at the generic brand coffee shop down the road. Not even the old biddies were awake at the time.
I decided not to explain my unusual lateness - no doubt she would ask later, she still wouldn't get a profound answer. If I told her the truth she'd lecture me, again, and then most likely again.
It had only been at most forty eight hours since my unwanted visit to what I referred to as the 'Big Boys Palace'. I liked the very unimaginative name I thought of, it undermined them, in my mind anyway. However, despite the small time period, Harry Styles himself had managed to worm his way into my life once again.
Coffee is a staple supplement in my diet thus no morning can start until I've drowned myself in caffeine. And by drown I only mean one cup, anymore and I'd be on the toilet all day. So when I left my humble abode and 'bumped' into Harry waiting around the street corner with two cups of freshly brewed coffee in his hand, I declined. It wasn't a coincidence he bought two. It wasn't spontaneous of him to appear from around the street corner. It was planned and it irked me. Not planned well enough to know I can only handle one cup of the guilty drink in the morning.
I tried to ignore him, in fact I brushed past him as if he wasn't there. Harry being Harry had other ideas.
"Where do you think you're going?"
"Work." I quipped extremely bluntly - he didn't get the hint or didn't want to, that I didn't want to share small chitchat with him.
I kept my fast pace up, trying to head towards the tube station without a little follower. Much to my displeasure he had longer legs therefore longer strides and reached me before I had any further say. I turned slightly to look at his amused face. Annoyed by his bipolar emotions I halted, taking him by surprise when he had to steer a few feet back.
"Is it safe for you here?" I narrowed my eyes at him before scanning the area.
"What?!" He practically shouted, a panicked look etched across his face as if I said something I ought to have not. I narrowed my vision once again. He was seemingly crazy.
"We're near a school, are you sure the single mums won't fling themselves at you?" My initial question was to be followed up with a very sarcastic joke, and even though I said it something about him was off. He laughed, almost too much and most definitely awkwardly.
"Are you saying I'm good looking?" That stupid smirk of his appeared for the first time that day.
"No I'm saying you're a man whore." I deadpanned.
"Still thinking of going into the comedic industry then?"
"What are you even doing here? Haven't you got gang stuff to do? And aren’t you supposed to be staying away from me?" I began walking again, half hoping he would leave me alone. The other half wanted him to stay because I found great pleasure in mocking and annoying him.
"Gang stuff." He repeated and laughed. "Who says I'm not doing gang stuff now?"
"The two cups of coffee in your hand."
"Most people would be thankful for a cup of coffee on a Monday morning. And just for the record, I like to break the rules, or rather bend them."
"Of course you do.” I muttered. “And most people aren't followed by strangers on a Monday morning."
