hate & other words || h.s au

eight

"You can say whatever you want, Ad, but I think these people came because they saw your picture on our Instagram."

I've seen five unfamiliar faces today. Three of them told me that they stumbled upon our Instagram and thought they should pop over because it seems like a cool place and they live only thirty minutes away from this town. What a coincidence, isn't it, that they came after I posted Adam's picture?

"A picture that I didn't approve," Adam remarks under his breath. I took a picture of him sorting out some books for the display a couple of days ago and posted it before he could make me delete it from my phone (he can be very persuasive if he wants to). Although he keeps saying that I should delete it, I know he secretly likes that picture because it showcases his gorgeous profile (even Daisy liked that picture so I don't know why he's grumbling about it; his soulmate approves of it and tells me that I should post more). "I still think they came because of the promotion. Your mum's a genius."

"I don't doubt that my mum's a genius but that picture has the most likes so far. See," I say as I pick up my phone and show to him the number of likes his picture receives.

Adam looks at it for exactly two seconds before he shakes his head and picks up the books on the counter to return them back to their respective shelves.

"You're not really angry with me, are you?" I ask, just in case. I don't want Adam to think that I don't care about his feeling or anything. Sure I tease him a lot but at the end of the day, he's my friend and I don't want him to get upset with me. "If you want me to, I could delete the picture."

Reappearing from the shelves with one book in hand, he tilts his head to the side and kinks an eyebrow at me. "You'd do that?"

"Well, yeah. I just thought it's a good pic so I posted it. You being in it is a bonus point." And the reason why I chose that particular photo instead of the other five I took.

Adam lets out a chuckle and then shakes his head. "You don't have to delete it."

"You sure?" I raise an eyebrow at him.

"Yeah," he nods. "Just keep it."

"You actually like the picture, don't you?" I ask and when he doesn't say anything to deny my assumption, a smirk touches my lips. "I knew it!"

Adam chooses that time to disappear again, making his way to the back of the store most likely to hide the blush on his face. It's not like I have never seen him blush. I have -- plenty of times before especially when Daisy is around. She makes him so soft that sometimes I'm jealous of them. Okay, that's a lie; I'm always jealous of them. They're made for each other and unlike Harry and I, they actually do share a soul (see, mum, grandma is wrong about one thing).

As soon as the thought of Harry seeps into my mind, I shake it off and step out from behind the counter to focus on anything other than that. I make my way to the New Arrivals and as I rearrange the books, someone walks in. For a moment, I hold my breath, afraid that if I look up, I might find Harry materialising in front of me. He does have the tendency to show up whenever he crosses my mind so my fear is completely rational.

To my surprise, when I do look up I don't find Harry standing in front of me, but a guy whom I've never seen before looking around the store like he's not sure if he's in the right place. Honestly, I'm wondering the same thing.

When his eyes land on me, I could tell that he's debating whether he should talk to me or continue looking around. This is where I should step in and welcome him but for some reasons, words won't leave my mouth as though I've forgotten how to speak. Which is ridiculous because talking has never been an issue for me; in fact, my mum used to tell me that I learned how to talk first before I eventually learned how to walk and ever since I knew how to speak, I can never seem to stop. And yet, right now my speaking ability fails me.