Harry, a wealthy upperclass man, is in love with a maid in his home.
Word count: 2997
—-
Ariana walks up to Harry's room, knocking gently. She irons out her dress with her hands, unsuccessfully getting the wrinkles out.
"Mr. Styles?" The upperclassman is sitting at his desk, writing away. He had been in his study all week, trying to finish his work before the deadline. If a minute late, his father would surely cut out his tongue.
"Ingrid, I told you-" Harry realizes that it isn't his personal maid, but instead his mother's, Ariana Grande. He turns, possibly for the first time in hours, and clears his throat. "Ariana, how can I help you?" As always, he feels his heart racing as she shyly steps into his room.
"You didn't come down for breakfast, or lunch. I just figured you'd at least want some water and a snack." He notices the tray in her hand. Harry can't help but feel happy that Ariana paid attention to him. "Your mother is worried sick downstairs about you." The joy fades.
"Of course it was mother who sent her up. Not herself. Not because she cares about me."
"Thank you. You can set it down." Harry notices Ariana biting her lower lip. "What is it?"
"I just worry that you'll leave it until tomorrow. I don't want Mrs. Styles to worry about you. So if you have a minute-"
"I don't." Ariana jumps when Harry interrupts coldly. "My father has given me an impossible task to prove I'm worthy to be his successor. My deadline is tomorrow. I have no time at all."
Ariana notices how his usual friendly and energetic green eyes have turned sad, and stressed. Harry looks exhausted.
"You can do it. I know you can." Ariana attempts to give encouraging words. It is not convincing enough.
"Thank you. I would like to be by myself right now, if you don't mind."
"Okay, I will leave you alone then." As Harry watches the girl he has known since he was a child rush out, he can't help but hit himself in the head. They had grown up together, with Ariana's mother, Joan, being a chef in their home. He knows that Ariana means well, she always means well. And in return, Harry had been choppy and distant.
He feels his heart ache as he steps towards the platter Ariana had made for him. Since she is the head maid in the Styles household, Ariana could walk anywhere in the estate freely. When they were young, Ariana would bring Harry all his favourite fruits and biscuits. Even today, she still remembers. She knows him, unlike anybody else.
—-
Two days later
"Cheers mate, to the future owner of Styles brewery!" Harry clinks his glass with his friend, Niall Horan, the second son of another wealthy family. "I've never seen your father so happy with your plan."
"Neither have I." Both men chuckle. They were sat out on the terrace of the Styles Mansion. Out below them, Harry saw his mother tending to her garden. As always, Ariana is just steps away, ready to be of help.
Harry realizes that he had yet to apologize to Ariana for his snappy behaviour. After all, if he hadn't taken a few moments to eat the fruit and refresh his thoughts, he wouldn't have been able to come up with a plan for his family company. Fruit flavoured alcoholic beverages.
Niall silently watches his childhood friend stare out at the people below. In all his life, he could not remember seeing Harry take a second look at any girl they met at parties or had gone to school with. And yet, Niall could see that Harry was looking at his mother's servant as if she was the reason the sun rises. There was no doubt about it.
