late shift (harry styles fan fiction)

run

I sat there, unable to move. As the figure stepped into the sliver of moonlight that trickled in through the gaping hole in the window.

She looked around 50. Tough though, with crazily dyed pink hair, straggly and short. Her face looked crinkled and leathery, but her eyes far from tired. The sparkle in them was clearly visible. Unfortunately the anger in them was obvious too.

"Connie, what the hell are ya' doin' here" she shouted, in an accent I had trouble distinguishing.

So she did know Connie? Did this mean I was off the hook for technically breaking an entry?

Connie smirked at me crookedly. "see Harrehhh, this is Lynn." she said infuriatingly.

Who is this Lynn?!

The lady stood watching us, seeming maybe even more confused than I was.

Opening her mouth to speak, I dreaded the words that would surely follow.

"Yes Connie, I am Lynn, your bloody boss...and it seems to me that you, and your undoubtedly handsome man friend I must say, have smashed your way in to my already shitty home ... Oh, and am I right assuming that you are both completely and utterly hammered?"

"Not me Lynn... er ma'm" I stuttered " I am sober"

"Then what the bloody hell are you doing letting this nutcase break into my house" she asked astonished.

"I .. um" god dammit this lady was persistent. Truth be told I had no clue how I ended up being right in the middle of this ridiculous mess. And I certainly didn't have an explanation for this pink haired woman.

She seemed to at least acknowledge my rather helpless state and sighed.

"Take her upstairs, there's a spare bedroom on your 2nd right." she ordered me.

I gratefully obliged, beginning to lift her, having to steady myself, mentally praising this woman for being so crazily spontaneous. I spaced out for a few minutes, only coming too when I heard something I really didn't want to hear.

"Oh and you sleep beside her or on the floor or whatever"

What?! No way was I staying over at some random girl's bosses house. I mean that even looks crazy written down right?

"Oh no. I can't stay" I hurriedly protested. " I only met Connie this evening, she was pissed and I just wanted to walk her home" I rushed, desperately trying to explain my simple, gentleman-like intentions.

"Sorry mate but no can do. You still have a lot of explaining to do. I am going back to bed, and you are staying until morning, with my twat of a niece. Then and only then, will my tired ears be ready for your bullshit."

Dragging her now sleeping body up the stairs , I had to loop my arms under hers to keep a good grip. i counted the doors i walked past and arrived at her bedroom door. inside her room it was dark; you couldn't see much, although i didn't bother to turn her light on. i didn't want to wake her. In the small light coming from the gaps in her blinds, i could see clothes and empty cans all over her desk and draws but supprisingly the floor was clear, at least i couldn't trip over anything that way.

Laying her down into what I could see in the light of her unmade bed, my eye started ajustng to the light.I noticed how her bedside table was cluttered with book and crisp packet and over on her windowsill was a half full ash trey with a half empty box of cigarettes. Her bin overflowed with coke and cider cans and pices of paper and cds where scattered all over the floor by the end of the bed.

Good job i didnt step on those, this room is a fucking state! Now... how to get out of this shit hole? I thought to myself.

obviously the window was my first thought so I climbed over her sleeping body making sure not to touch her and started to fiddle with th latch on the window. Shit, it was locked.

I started to push on the rickety window hoping that it'd budge. then suddenly the whole pane of glass just shifted and fell out of the window smashing elaborately on the pavement below. wonderful.

Looking down I noticed that I the pavement was merely metres away, I guessed it was because the house was on a hill. I jumped out with ease onto the hard concrete encircling the large house.

I swiftly left the house, pushing the feeling of guilt about the number of broken Windows I left behind me out of my mind.

I.mean sure... call me an arsehole for leaving Connie and her supposed 'aunt'/'boss' with questions and shattered Windows, but hey, I was confused too, and bloody starving.

........... slowly letting.the grease of the kebab I had just invested in pass through my mouth, I smiled. for me, simple tesco Harry, this night had been almost an adventure. And Connie was interesting, leaving me with questions I greatly desired answers to. Was the house we broke into even hers? was the crazy women with pink hair her auntie, her boss? Jesus, I can't imagine a girl like Connie with a job... she seemed mental. Like one of those people I had never had the guys to be. Always pissed. Always stoned. And always partying.

Part if me mentally cursed myself for silently wishing to meet Connie again. I highly doubt she will even remember me when morning comes, I can only guess what kind of headache she will be graced with.

But can you really blame me for wanting to see her again? I needed to be a 20 year old, act like one. I couldn't fight the idea that she would be just the one to teach me.

God dammit.