Effortless (h.s.)

Chapter EIGHT - new income

I woke up the next morning on Harry's couch, I didn't feel any more physical pain but I knew the emotional aspect was well on it's way. At this point it would be a miracle if the coffee shop let me keep my job, I was sure of that.

Harry was trying to help, yes, but he wouldn't even let me take a phone call because he was so worried about my well being. I was grateful to have someone who cared so much, but truthfully wasn't used to it, and I don't know if I like it.

Being cared for was something I always rejected, I hated to receive help from others. In my eyes it made me look weaker and more vulnerable, being independent was something I've always been in a sense. Even though I always lived in my parents house and near the end of my stay I started to shut down, I still refused to ask for help. I had hit a point where I didn't have it in me anymore to fight, but I also didn't have it in me to ask for help.

Harry was such a good friend to me, but I wasn't used to having friends like this.

Dylan did care for me, but in a different way. Dylan was always there for me to take my mind off of things and to help me indirectly, Harry wanted to address the problem head on and solve it. No excuses and no bullshit.

"Mornin' love, how are you feeling?" My body jolted, but was soon put at ease when I saw Harry slowly making his way over to the sofa. He sat down next to me and examined my face.

"I feel a lot better, thank you... Harry. But I really have to get going," I pushed myself up off the sofa and felt my clothes stick to me. A shower sounded so nice right now, "I need to make some phone calls to this place-" I started to turn around to walk over to the front door when Harry grasped onto my hand.

My eyes opened slightly bigger than usual and I whipped around to see him sitting on the sofa, hand in mine, "I thought about what you said yesterday, about losing your job."

I furrowed my eyebrows and felt his hand squeeze mine firmer before letting it go completely, sending my arm to rest at my side, "This is a big place, Lennon, especially for one person."

In that moment, my stomach completely sank.

"And, well... I like your company. And you need money, and I know you won't just take my money, so I was thinking that you could come here and help out. You know-"

"No, I don't..." I chimed in, still utterly lost on what he was offering.

Harry sighed, shifting his weight on the couch before standing up in front of me and nodding, "I want you to come over here and help me out with cooking and cleaning."

My arms crossed over my chest, "You have a maid for that."

"I don't like the maid, or trust her. I know you won't steal from me and I like having you around," he looked down momentarily, looking down at his black socks before glancing back up at me to see my expression.

It would be nice to have a job within the complex... and I knew Harry would pay me well. Probably too well. Even though I pretended to not be a fan around him, my stomach was always in knots when I was near him because I liked him so much. Maybe it would be good to become closer so we could be friends and I wouldn't freak out every time I saw him.

Maybe this would be good for me.

I looked away and let out a deep breath that I didn't know I had been holding, "When?" I finally asked, rolling my eyes a little before making eye contact again.

Harry's eyes lit up and a small smile spread on his lips, but he tried hard to keep it contained.

"Whenever you'd like to, I only am busy on Wednesday's and Friday mornings with meetings but other than that I'm always here for the most part. And you don't have to come over just to clean or cook... I mean, I-I-"

"Wow, the Harry Styles is stuttering," I mocked, waltzing over to his front door with the scraps of confidence I had left within me. It's hard to muster up when you're covered in sweat and a t-shirt of the person you're around.

He followed me closely and brushed his hands through his brown curly locks of hair, "I thought you said you weren't going to treat me like a celebrity? Just your neighbor Harry?" I turned around and got butterflies in my stomach once again, even a simple glance at him did this to me. I wonder how I was going to maintain this job and not fuck up my blood pressure.

I shrugged with a foolish grin, pretending he had no influence on me, "I don't know, I feel like saying 'the Harry Styles' versus 'Harry my neighbor' is stuttering has a bigger affect. You know?"

Harry tilted his head to the side and stared at me for a few seconds, shut his eyes and shook his head, "Go home, get some more rest. And... might want to change your shirt," I looked down to see his face on my shirt still, "You don't want me thinking you actually like me, that would be a tragedy."

I hummed and opened the door, sticking my head back in before I left, "I bought this shirt because I like your music, not you!" I started to push the door shut but Harry opened it wide again, startling me.

"Alright then, your commission from me with be songs and money. That way you get something out of the deal. I know it must be draining to hang out with such a bum, like myself," Harry rested his head on the frame of the door and jokingly rolled his eyes while speaking about himself.

My heart stopped for a second and I felt cold chills up my back, I couldn't imagine him actually singing to me. This job is going to be a lot harder than I thought, "Hm, okay fine," once again acting like I didn't give two shits.

Harry laughed and stood up tall, "See you later, love. Call if you fall ill again!"

"Goodbye, Harry!" I yelled back, walking down the hallway back to the safety of my apartment.