Un-Tying the Knot {h.s.}

Chapter 12

A horn blared loudly and Harry feels a hand grab his elbow, dragging him out of the way of oncoming traffic. His entire day has been like this, rushing from one high brow suit shop to the next, stripping down and dressing up in a never ending cycle. If he was smart, he certainly would have dressed casually. And judging by the grumble in his stomach and the hanger pains of his pointed words and impatient temper, he would have also finished that horrid bran cereal this morning.

"I hate this horrendous fucking city," he grumbled. I tried to calm him, but my effort to both keep him from getting run over and calm him at the same time were failing miserably.

"It's just down the road on Broadway. We're so close," I offered.

He shivered a little and slid further into his jacket, the cool winter air from the ocean cutting through him like a knife. "It's fucking freezing. Where are we going again?"

"Ralph Lauren," I offered. I waited for the light to change before dragging him through the lightly peppered crosswalk.

He follows somewhat reluctantly, noticing some hail starting to pour from the sky. It's never been this cold in LA, and here he was dragging me through what felt like subzero temperatures in the middle of Christmas shopping season while also being a complete asshole. He was starting to feel a bit guilty.

"I promise we'll go to lunch after," I smile back at him, seeing the scowl still on his face. I wish he would smile more. His smile could light up the sky.

"This is it, I think," I look up, seeing the royal blue awnings in the middle of the huge luxury outdoor mall. We had already been through all the shops in Beverly Hills, and now we were finishing up on the West Side at the Promenade in Santa Monica.

"It's fine," he sighs, pausing thoughtfully before offering a well-thought deadpan. "I'll just gnaw my arm off if I get real hungry."

I couldn't help but let my lips curl up in a slight smirk at his dry sarcasm, a look of faux contemplation now adorning his face. "You think it'd affect the cut of the tux?"

I couldn't help but snicker, deciding to go along with his playfully serious joke. "I think so -- I'll be sure to tell the tailor to plan for it."

We both lost it in a fit of giggles as he held the door open for me, thankful for the sudden blast of heat. Harry trailed behind me, the smell of new fabric and pungent cologne beginning to assault our senses. I heard a couple of quick sneezes, looking back at a my now bashful partner in crime.

"Cologne makes me sneeze," he chuckles, his deep jade eyes catching mine. My cheeks were already flushed pink from the change in weather, but seeing him so adorable in his vulnerability made them a touch pinker and a giggle escape my lips. He looked at me with wonder, as if he hadn't experienced that reaction in a long time.

"I'll try not to put so much on next time," I deadpan back, watching his signature dimples crinkle up into a wry smile.

"Mr. Styles!"

Our bashful interaction was interrupted by a very young, very gay showman. He can't be a day over 25, and he certainly looks the part of the flamboyant metrosexual, although we all knew he was not hetero at all. I watched Harry cringe, knowing now that this fitting was probably going to be a nightmare for him.

"I'm TeeJay," he smiled brightly, sticking his hand out to shake. The consummate gentleman, Harry returned the handshake and proceeded with the introductions.

"Harry," he offered. "And this is my assistant Olivia."

I felt TJs eyes turn to me and start scanning my body, suddenly making me extremely subconscious. "And aren't you adorable. Peacoats are so coming back in one of these seasons. And..." his eyes trail down to my shoes. "Honey, are those ballet flats? Savage! Where did you get them?"