Punk Harry Imagine

Part 8

Part 8

"Harry, gloves on."

"They don't give you an apron just for the hell of it!"

"Dammit, Harry! You need to tie back your hair or something."

"Harry! Goggles on at all times."

"But they fucking irritate my fucking eyes!" he complained.

I sighed and rested my head in the palm of my hands.

Wasn't this an honours class? How this he even get into this class?

"Quit moping around," he said. "Look, happy?" I looked up at him and surely enough, he had his gloves on, apron on, hair tied back, and goggles on.

He looked pretty ridiculous, but if I laugh, he'd take it all off and we'd get nowhere.

I bit my lip harshly and looked away from him to stop myself from laughing.

"Don't do that."

"Do what?" I ask, still not looking at him.

He lifted my chin up and I felt a laugh trying to escape. Sensing that, I bit my lip again.

"That. Don't do that."

"Bite my lip?"

"Yeah. It gives me urges."

"Shut up and help me do this stupid lab." I huffed and starting grabbing a few test tubes.

I was just about to pour something into the beaker until Harry interrupted me.

"Wrong. Other one in first."

"How do you know that?" I ask.

"Just do it."

"Fine." I listened to him and poured the substance from my over hand into the beaker.

"Good." He smiled at me.

Yup. Smiled; not smirked. He smiled.

I smile back at him quickly and read the next set of instructions.

"Okay, then pour the a-"

"I like your hair when it's tied back."

I looked up at him. "Okay?"

"Yeah it looks easier to gr-"

I blushed. "Shut up, shut up, shut up!"

"Fine."

"Okay, so we pour this one into the other beaker and mix the-"

"You should go somewhere with me tomorrow," Harry interrupted again.

"No," I reply, not paying much attention to him.

"Why not?" he asked.

"Because I- wait. I don't have to tell you anything."

"Just tell me and I'll leave you alone."

I huffed. "I'm busy."

"Doing what?"

"You said that you'd leave me alone."

"Yeah, but I'm curious," he admitted.

"Curiosity killed the cat," I reminded him.

"But satisfaction brought it back," he added.

"I'm going to the movies," I say, giving up.

"With?"

I groan in annoyance. "Why do you want to know?"

"I want to know who you'd rather hang out with than me."

"My cousin," I lied. I remember his previous warning. Not that I cared, I just didn't feel like telling him everything.

"Your cousin?"

"Yeah, got a problem?"

"No."

"Good, so continue working."

And after that, I wasn't doing the work all by myself.