Twist Of Fate

Harry Styles Is Spending A Night At My House

"Mus, I'm getting bored!" Harry whines, stepping out from behind a bookshelf. He stops when he sees what I'm doing. "What are you doing?" Harry narrows his eyes and I lower the book from my nose.
"Sniffing a new book." I say, as slowly as possible because I know I sound stupid.
"Sniffing a new book? What..." Harry trails off when I hold the book toward him.
"Sniff it," I say. "Go on." Harry takes the book from my hand, looking at me like I've grown a third eye. He sniffs the cover of the book. "Not the cover, Harry! A page from the book." He opens it to a random page and sniffs. I giggle when Harry hums in approval.
"This smells better than the perfume that I use," Harry says. He flips to another page and smells it. I take the book from him, giggling.
"Don't spoil the book!" I tuck the book underneath my arm and grab another from a shelf.
"Mus, I'm tired, hungry and bored. Let's go!" Harry tugs on my right arm like a child.
"Yeah, one sec. Can't decide which one to get," I murmur. "The book that I want is available, but then they have another book that I really want to read that hasn't been available for a bit. I'm conflicted, Harry. Help."
"Buy both," Harry says simply.
"No, I will not let you buy me two. Just one," I shake my head.
"Okay." Something's fishy about Harry's tone, so I lift my eyes from the book and raise an eyebrow at him. "I'll just head back to the children's section and grab a book."
"Children's section?" I look at him, confused.
"My cousin's birthday is coming up, he's four. I need to buy him a gift and what's better than a book?" Harry strolls casually toward the children's shelf.
"I think I've decided a book," I say after a minute or so.
"Okay," Harry appears beside me. He eyes the books in my hand, and shows me the one he's chosen for his cousin. I smile at the title.
"My grandmother used to read that to me." I say, smiling at the fond memory.
"Then it must surely be good. See Mus, even my choice is great." I chuckle, and place the book that I'm not buying - even though I'm leaving it on the shelf with a heavy heart - and clutch the other one tightly, as if it'll reassure me. "Mus, give me the book and I'll pay. You go wait by the bike." I nod my head, and hand Harry the book.
"Come fast." I call, as I exit the bookstore. The bookstore's window front is covered with a huge poster, announcing a sale, so I can't see Harry. He doesn't like reading. In fact, he says when he begins a book he can't finish it. I don't believe the man. Reading is the best thing in the world; it's a blessing. I can't imagine a life without books. Harry steps out of the store with two paper bags in hand. He hands me both and I take them.
"Thanks again for the..." I trail off, as I open the bag with my book. Instead of one, it has two. I look up at him, shaking my head. "Harry, return it! Right now."
"They have a no-return policy. Sorry, Mus." Harry says and shrugs his shoulders. Huffing, I cross my arms across my chest. He gets on the bike, and I get on behind him. I will not put my arms around his torso this time. Harry needs to see that what he's done is wrong. The bike lurches forward, and on instinct to hold something so that I won't fall, my hands tug at Harry's shirt and he chuckles.
"Hold on tight, Mus." Harry says, smirking. I will show him my anger later. I will vent it out in another way. The bag hits Harry repeatedly thanks to the wind. Thanks to the wind. I smile to myself.
"Finally!" Harry sighs, as his bike zooms over my lawn, crumpling my untamed grass. "Now I'll be able to check for that bruise the bag has caused me." I roll my eyes and get off the bike.
"Stop being such a wuss," I murmur.
"Heard that!" Harry yells from behind me, as I enter my house.
"You were meant to!" I slam the door shut and head toward the lounge. Gregg is not here. I pout and head toward the kitchen.
"This food is amazing!" Gregg moans when his eyes land on me. Boxes of food are lying on the counter in the kitchen, and Gregg is sitting on the bar-stool, devouring the food in them.
"Gregg, don't finish it all." Harry says, entering the kitchen and standing behind me.
"I left a lot for you guys." Gregg waves at the other boxes that are lying on the counter.
"Geez, thanks." I place the bags on a counter and grab a spoon.
**********
"Next time Harry, you're never ordering food." I say, rubbing my stuffed belly. "Apparently, when you order food it's too tasty and too much."
"You loved it," Harry mumbles, his eyes shut. "That's why you ate like a...hippo." If I wasn't so full, and sleepy I would slap Harry, or defend myself. However, I can't.
"I did," I agree. A few moments of silence pass by and then we hear the front door shut, telling us that Gregg's left. I glance over at the clock, it's one in the morning. I don't know how time passes by so quickly when I'm with Harry. "I'll get us something that will help with our digestive system." Harry nods his head, as I get up and take slow, languid steps toward the kitchen. Walking is the most torturous task right now. I take out the jug from the fridge, and grab two glasses. To hell with a tray. I retrace my steps and enter the lounge to find Harry lying on his stomach on the couch, his right hand lying limply by his side.
"Harry, have some lassi." I say, placing the glasses and jug on the table.
"What's that?" Harry asks, turning his head to face the table. "That looks like milk." I chuckle, as I pour lassi into the glasses.
"It's a drink that's made out of yogurt, an Indian drink. People usually have it in the summer because it cools the body," I explain.
"Oh," Harry murmurs. "It better not contain poison."
"Trust me, it doesn't." I assure him, holding a glass toward him. Harry sits up and takes it. I take a seat on near his feet, leaning against the couch.
"Mus, where were you all my life?!" Harry exclaims. I turn around to find a lassi mustache across his upper lip.
"What do you mean?" I ask, giggling. I take out my phone from my pocket and take a picture of Harry.
"First, you make me smell something...out of this world and now you make me taste this heavenly drink. I want more, Mus." Laughing, I nod my head, and hold my chin toward the jug.
"The jug's not even half empty. You can finish it," I say.
"Thank you for all of this." Harry holds the glass up. "Mus, one day you need to make the boys, or at least Niall taste this." I nod my head. After that, Harry and I talk for hours. I tell him how I migrated from India, when I was thirteen, to Canada. I tell him about my mom and dad. He and I can relate to our parents divorce. We talk about our step-siblings, he has one step-brother and I have two. It's fun to talk to Harry because we can relate to a lot of things. Before I know it, the clock that's on the wall shows it's five in the morning.
"Harry, I think we should retire for the night...or morning," I say.
"Yeah, I'll head home." Harry says, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.
"No, you can crash in the guest bedroom." I pick up the dirty glasses and jug of lassi. Harry made me make two more jugs because he kept chugging them down. "I was expecting a relative to come over, but he didn't, so everything's ready. You can stay there."
"Thanks, but...are you sure?" I turn around to face Harry and look at him, an eyebrow raised.
"Yes, Harry, it's fine and I'm sure. Go and just sleep." I head over to the kitchen, the cold floor coming in contact with my bare feet.
"Good night!" Harry calls from the lounge. "By the way, where's the guest bedroom?"
"The room that's opposite mine. First door to the left," I say.
"Thanks. Night," Harry gives me a small wave. He makes his way upstairs, as I clear up for the night. The realization suddenly dawns on me that Harry Styles is spending a night at my house.