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Harry trudged into the lounge of the office a pulsing mix of anger and hurt. Perrie smiled softly at the boy, reaching out to offer a comforting squeeze of the hand, but Harry wasn’t having it. He snatched his hand backed in a violently rude manner. Her sweet smile faded into a cross line, she knew when he got like this what was best for her to do.

Reaching under the counter, she pulled out the bottle of gin, pouring him a glass. He looked up at her from his mess of curly hair. “Thanks.” He grumbled, letting the fire of the alcohol consume his thoughts. Maybe he could invest his time into this instead of love, he always did dream of being an alcoholic, that’d make his mom happy. He almost laughed at the thought. 

Perrie let out one of those sighs that never quite leaves the lips, and turned back to the kettle she had ready for a new friend of hers, Con Simpson. Every break Con would come down and Perrie couldn’t help but adore her shy ways of speaking and mouse like characteristics. The kettle hissed that it was done, and Perrie poured two cups.

“Off to see Daddy?” Harry hissed, referring to the second cup with the Malik crest on it.

“What I call Zayn when we’re alone is none of your concern, and no, it’s for a friend.” Perrie snapped back.

Harry opened his mouth to smart back, but was never given the chance as the barstool beside him was silently taken. Peeking out from his mop of hair, he liked it long he could use it to his advantage, and saw a girl. She wasn’t just a girl, she was a beautiful girl, a stunning girl, a Zayn Malik kitten kind of girl.

Hidden behind a mass of curly hair, Con was trying to control her heart rate, in fear that whoever this handsome young man was would hear its pounding. Her green eyes were flickering to Perrie in a questioning manner as to who this man was, because he looked like sex on a stick. She felt her shyness closing over her motor skills and this was certainly her social suicide.

Perrie could see the looks of both intrigue and lust in both curly haired, green eyed humans. She smiled to Con, handing her the mug. “What’s the word from the lobby today?” she asked, leaning on her arm in the cliché bar tender sort of way.

Con spaced out, staring wide eyed at Perrie. Why was she asking her to talk? Did Perrie honestly think she had the mindset to be able to not make an ass of herself in front of such a handsome stranger? “Oh, you know, they usu-ual.” She found herself stuttering. Great job Con, she thought, great job.

While Con was having a mild mental break down and contemplating throwing herself onto the guy, she might as well do something dangerous before she died right, Harry was feeling his lonely, sex deprived hormones kick in. This girl was so cute in her shyness, and she worked here, a bonus.

“You work here?” Harry finally found himself saying to the mystery girl. She swiveled in her seat toward him, her fair skin turning the cutest shade of magenta Harry had ever seen.

“Y-yeah, I’m the new receptionist. I took over, over for Lo-ouis.” She was cursing herself for being so shy and wanted to send a raging voicemail to her parents as to why they never threw her into more social situations so she’d be prepared for this.

Harry felt the anger of the confrontation still pumping in his veins at the name Louis, but he decided to let it slide, sometimes you just got to do that, he figured. He nodded, downing the rest of his gin. He inhaled deeply, and turned to face her properly. He held out his hand, receiving hers in turn. “It seems we’ve never met, so allow me to introduce myself. I’m Harry Edward Styles, but to a beautiful girl like you, you can call me Harry.”

He thanked God for his charming personality. He smiled at the lovely girl, pressing his plump lips-they constantly looked like he had just finished the best make out session in the history of young adult hormones- to the soft skin on the back of her hand.

Con was just about pissing herself from excitement. “Pleasure to meet you Harry, I’m Connie Simpson, but I prefer Con.” She couldn’t make direct eye contact and instead stared at her lap, pondering how many threads were in her skirt.

Harry chuckled in a seductive way that made Con refrain from ripping of his skin tight jeans right then and there. “There’s no need to be shy, I don’t bite, that much anyways.” His breath was minty was it hit her face, which she couldn’t comprehend because he just downed like half a bottle of gin, but maybe that was just part of this magical guys style.

Taking two fingers, he tilted Con’s chin to face him. He wanted to blurt out how beautiful she was, he wanted to scream out that her eyes were the prettiest gems he’d ever seen, but he couldn’t find the words to say any of that. His phone buzzed on the bar, revealing a text from his sister. She truly was a block in his private life, but this time, he felt saved by it.

He flickered his gaze back to Con. “I’m terribly sorry to cut this short Con, but my sister wants to take me out to lunch. I’m sure, though, that we’ll meet again.” Harry once again kissed her hand, before nodding to Perrie, crumbling bills on the counter. Harry swaggered out, a smirk present on his face. He forgot all about Zayn and work, and focused in on Con Simpson. Deep in his tummy he felt butterflies, and that’s when the thought came to him, but he didn’t plan on sharing his idea with anyone just yet.

Con was in a dazed state, turning to Perrie a small giggle on the tip of her tongue. The beginnings of a shy smile was tugging at her lips, “So tell me more about Harry.”

gif: I'm truly sorry, he's perfect.

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