𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋! | harry styles

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Survived. 1 down, 1 to go.

Attagirl! Coffee or sleep?

Sleep now, coffee later.

How about I stop by after MM, around 2?

Sounds great. Say hi to Mom :)

Will do. Night night, Sophie.

I wake up groggy as hell, the light streaming through my windows already fading into late afternoon. Crap! I bolt upright in my bed. 2:55? I've missed Harry's visit. And coffee delivery! Why didn't anyone wake me?

I know the answer. Neither Mrs. Cope nor Harry would wake me if they thought I needed the sleep, which I obviously did. Meanwhile, four missed texts, three of them from Harry:

1:45: Mom says hi. On my way to you now...

1:58: Your coffee will be in the fridge when you wake up!

2:31: Hope you're feeling okay. Let me know? XXX

And one from Derek at 2:03: Ruby's sick as a dog. Need you in by 4. New bar trainee starting.

Ugh, the two ends of the candle have burned to the middle today. I missed my Harry time. It's gonna be a sucky night at work. Still gotta hit the finance book when I get home. Annnnd I have my period.

Are you listening to your whiny self?

You have a job you like well enough, great co-workers, and you're socking away good money for once.

You are halfway through the semester with your head well above water. So, big whoop, you have to work hard... that never killed anybody.

Harry. Sigh... Harry. Remind me how I got so damn lucky?

My feet carry me to the kitchen where the promised coffee awaits, though now it will be iced coffee. I can't help but smile, picturing a cheery Harry on the front stoop, holding the steaming cup, eagerly anticipating my grateful response to his unending generosity: coffee, patience, midnight rides, spontaneity, thoughtfulness... it seems the man's reserves are infinite. And all this, as Mrs. Cope pointed out, on top of Harry's loyalty to his mother and all those clients he's helped. Damn, I hope he knows how much I appreciate him.

No better time than the present to tell him. I scroll to Harry's last text-Hope you're feeling okay. Let me know? XXX-and start to tap back a thank you.

No, if I really have something important to say, I should say it so he can hear it. Old-school style.

Here goes nothing... His phone is ringing. My stomach jumps. How on earth do I still get butterflies?

"Sophie? Are you okay?" His greeting comes out in an anxious rush.

"Yes, fine."

"Oh. Okay." He catches his breath. "I wasn't expecting you to call."

"Are you... in the middle of something?" I've been so buried lately, I can't even remember if he said he had a client today. I should've texted him first.

"Nothing that can't wait. Did you find your coffee?"

"Yes, and that's why I called."

"Oh?"

"Well, not about the coffee, per se, but to thank you. For stopping by. And bringing me treats. And picking me up from work. And baking me cookies. And basically, for taking care of me." Holy shit, that was a mouthful.

His response is gravelly and sexy as hell. "Isn't that what awesome boyfriends do?"

"I don't know. I've never had one before."