regrets ⇝ hs

xviii. strong

BROOKLYN'S POV

Monday

My alarm went off at 7:00 in the morning, and I pulled my blanket over my head as if that would block out the horrifying shriek of it. I heard Harry chuckle softly and slide out of his bed.

"Up, Brooklyn," he instructed. I sighed and pushed the blanket off of me; hauling myself up and grabbing a pair of jeans I had recently bought as well as the shirt I had worn when I had first arrived in France. I made my way into the bathroom and closed the door.

Harry and I both changed on opposite sides of the bathroom door before I stepped out, once again glad that he was already dressed.

"All ready?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow at me as he slipped his shoes on.

I glanced at the clock, the numbers 7:29 lit up on the small screen, before I nodded and slipped my Toms on.

Harry nodded and grabbed his phone and keys, shoving them into his jean pockets before leading me out of the room and down to his car. The two of us climbed in and he started towards the local supermarket.

"You look exhausted," Harry mumbled as he drove, taking a quick look at me before focusing back on the road.

I sighed heavily and nodded. "I am not a morning person. This is hell."

Harry laughed and shook his head. How the hell could this boy still be so lively, even in the morning? He ran a hand through his hair and pushed it away from his face, those same few curls as always falling in his line of vision. His hair was getting longer, I noticed, and he was in need of a haircut.

"How are you so," I paused in order to find the proper word I was looking for, "awake this early?"

Harry shrugged nonchalantly and made a turn on to one of the busier roads. I understood now why we had left half an hour early; there was quite a lot of traffic on the way. "It's not that early, Brooke," he stated as he turned on the radio, the volume barely loud enough for either of us to hear the music, "I used to wake up at six for my old job as a kid."

"Where the hell did you work?" I questioned, raising an eyebrow at him. "How old were you that you were okay with waking up that early?"

"I worked at a bakery in my town," Harry explained, rolling his eyes playfully. "And I was about 15 when I began working there."

"Wow," I breathed out and shook my head. "At 15, all I wanted to do was sleep until noon and go to the mall with my friends until dark."

Harry nodded and parked in front of the supermarket as we arrived at 7:50. "There are two types of people in the world."

"Don't you quote Britney Spears on me," I said with a smirk and climbed out of the car, closing the door behind me and walking towards the doors of the supermarket. Harry caught up with me and we entered the shop together, walking to the back where, apparently, the manager had told Harry to meet him.

A man who looked to be in his late 40s greeted us. He was wearing jeans and a green shirt with the store's logo on the top left. He was a bit stocky, but definitely not the slimmest man alive. He had a bit of scruff on his chin and across his upper lip, and, on the top right of his shirt; a nametag read the name 'Benny'.

"Good morning, you two," he greeted us in a deep, raspy voice as if he had been smoking cigarettes just moments earlier, "welcome to the team. My name is Benny. And you must be Harry and Brooklyn."

Harry nodded for the both of us and shook the man's hand. "That would be us. Good morning, sir."

I was stunned at Harry's politeness, but didn't say anything about it as I gave Benny a small smile. "Good morning."