Best selling author Harry Styles is kind, sweet and charming. He's all someone would ever want and more.
Journalist and workaholic Nina Garcia is smart, caring and most importantly stubborn.
They formed a relationship.
Had a kid.
5 years later th...
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He was sat across from me.
Sitting on my black cushioned couch, Harry's knees touching and his eyes avoiding my own. His hands were intertwined, on his lap as he nervously messed with the gold rings on his fingers. Staring at them as if they were suddenly the most interesting thing in the world.
The only thing heard between us were the sounds of Lennon packing her travel bag, humming the words to her favorite song and Harry's occasional deep and shaky breaths.
The smell of vanilla, cashmere and musk just 5 feet away from me.
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He was dressed a little formal today, rather than casual. A satin button up shirt and plaid pants. The gold cross around his neck, which held flowing memories of the times it laid against my chest while he was above me.
He knew how to dress. There was never a day that he looked bad and I absolutely hated him for it. He could wear a trash bag and Harry made it look like it belonged on a runway.
Rolling one of his hands into a fist he brought it up to his mouth and awkwardly coughed.
I only have 10 more minutes until I'm picked up and I'm not even dressed yet. I can't help but feel the irritation rise about how late I was going to be because of him. He was supposed to be here an hour ago. I'm gonna scream.
"Honey, are you almost done?" I shouted, my eyes never shifting off of Harry. He was visibly uncomfortable, it's been this way for awhile, us not being able to have a proper conversation without feeling awkward about it.
I just needed him out of here as quickly as possible. The tension was there. And not the good kind.
"Yes, mommy!" Lennon's small voice shouted back from her bedroom.
"Daddy's waiting for you!" I shouted back a little impatiently.
Harry takes a deep breath in, biting inside of his cheek nervously. He opens his mouth but shuts it again. It's almost like he wants to start a conversation but doesn't know what to say- neither of us do.
