a/n: helloooo !! back with another chapter !! this one makes me smile so lmk how y'all feel.
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I park my car in the parking lot in front of the salon, my anxiety through the roof.
I had never pictured myself picking up my things from here, completely jobless. But I guess I never pictured dating Harry Styles either. And you here I was, with Harry, doing exactly that.
"Now, I've seen how these kinds of things usually go, primarily in movies and such," Harry begins after we've both stepped out of the car, and carrying an armful of bags, "Linda might try to manipulate or guilt you into coming back, but you've gotta be strong. I'll be right here if you need support, but it's mostly on you."
"No pressure." I sigh, rolling my eyes.
"You can do it." He pulls me into his side, planting a kiss right onto my temple. "I believe in you."
That makes one of us.
We walk up to the front entrance of the salon. I stop, my nerves taking over my actions.
"You've got this," Harry whispers, waiting for me to open the door.
He's right...I've got this. I can do this.
Inhaling a deep breath, I swing the door open as confidently as I possibly could. As soon as I stepped into the building, every pair of eyes was on me. I heard a few gasps, and at first I thought they were for me, but then I remembered I had an international rockstar walking by my side.
I avoided eye contact with everyone, hoping to god Linda wasn't here to torment me as I packed up my things. I walked straight to my workstation, my stomach twisting in knots. I felt guilty...as if I was doing something wrong. I felt like I was making the wrong decision and this would turn out to be a bad move.
"H," I say, earning Harry's immediate attention, "Can I see one of the bags?"
I made sure to hurry as I began to shove my many drawers of things into the bags Harry and I brought along, wanting to get out of here as soon as possible.
"Is there anything I can do to help?" Harry asks softly.
I take a look around, the growing mess making me anxious.
"Um," I sigh heavily, "You can wrap these cords up. Like the ones to my lamps."
"Okay." He nods, getting right to work.
As I finish loading yet another drawer of gel polishes into a bag, I feel a familiar, yet insanely uncomfortable sensation creep through my stomach. It felt as if I had spent the whole night drinking, even though I didn't. The pressure moves from my stomach all the way up to my throat and I feel like gagging. I knew exactly what was coming. I quickly set everything down on both the desk and my work chair, freeing my hands, only to bring them up to hover above my mouth immediately. I take a step back away from Harry and he turns to me with a frown on his face.
"Lils," Harry mumbles worriedly, "are you okay?"
I don't respond but instead remain in my position, ready to book it to the bathroom if I needed to. I wait, hoping I wouldn't throw up, now being the worst possible time for that to happen.
"Honey, you don't look too good." Harry's voice sounds concerned, but also slightly fearful. I feel dizzy as my head begins to spin. Harry grabs ahold of my hand in case I were to fall. "Here." He pulls the client chair from the other side of the desk around, placing it behind me. "Sit down."
He helps me take a seat. I feel weak, almost as if I was both hungry and queasy at the same time. Not only did I feel ill, everyone's eyes remained on me, and now I just felt stupid in front of them.
Harry places a comforting hand on my knee, looking up at me with soft eyes. His thumb draws small, gentle circles on my thigh just above my knee as he stares up at me.
"Are you alright?" He asks again, his frown remaining.
"Yeah," I tell a half-lie, bringing my hand up to my face, feeling embarrassed. "I just didn't feel well for a minute there... I'm okay now."
"Are you sure?" I found it so sweet how concerned he was about my well-being, even when practically a million eyes were on him.
"Yeah." I felt slightly better after sitting for a moment, so I grip the armrests of the chair, using them as a support to stand up. Harry's arms create a barrier around me so he could catch me quickly, in case I were to fall back down. But luckily, I didn't.
"What happened there?" Harry asks, stepping closer to me, helping me pack up the drawers I was currently working on. I wasn't sure if he actually thought I needed the help, or if he was just doing it to be nearer me. "I thought I was losing you for a second."
"I don't know." I shake my head, just as confused as he was. I haven't felt that way in a long time, and then it was much worse than that. I'm quite honestly grateful it didn't get to that point.
"Maybe it was the nerves," Harry suggests. "The anxiety of a fresh start... It can be scary." He sets a now full tote down on the floor, ready to be taken out to the car. "But I think in the long run it'll all be fine. You'll be glad you did this."
"But, how do you know that? How do you know I'm not making some huge mistake?" I sigh, nervous butterflies still fluttering about inside me, but I no longer felt like I was about to vomit. I felt like I could...but didn't feel like it was in my throat.
"I don't," he says simply, shrugging. "I don't know that at all, actually. But sometimes in life, you've just gotta take risks."
"You seem to take a lot of them," I notice about him. I look over at him, but his attention was fixed on the task at hand. But I wasn't sure whether his task was to help me pack up or attempt to make me feel better about my current situation.
He chuckles and nods. "Gotta keep life interesting somehow." He takes a deep breath as if he was preparing himself for his next words. "But I don't regret a single risk thus far... And I don't plan on regretting any more in the future."
"You don't have any regrets about the risks you've taken?" I ask and he shakes his head. "Not a single one?" He shakes his head once again. "Not even coming home with me to the middle of nowhere?"
"Especially not coming home with you to the middle of nowhere." A soft smile stretches his lips as he continues to stare down at the nearly empty drawer. "Because, you see, Lili," He finally looks up at me, but this time it was my turn to avoid eye contact, staring intently at my light denim jeans. He lifts my chin to face him and look him straight in the eyes. "You were the best risk of all."
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"I don't know what I would've done," I say, shaking my head. "Probably had a total meltdown before she even got the chance to say something to me.
"That's why I was there with you," Harry says, setting a newly emptied bag out of our way.
Luckily, I had a set of drawers in my bedroom that held nothing but painting materials and Jess's extra makeup she didn't have space for in her bedroom...or the bathroom. Together Harry and I emptied them, returning the large amount of makeup to Jess, telling to figure out what to do with it. With the drawers now cleared outâand sprawled out across my mattressâHarry and I refilled them with my nail art supplies. They'd stay there temporarily...just until I found another job.
"You have no idea how much that means to me, Harry," I say wholeheartedly. "If I got that sick with you there, I don't even want to imagine how I would've felt if you hadn't been by my side."
"Of course," he mumbles, shrugging as if it was no big deal. "I'm always going to be by your side... Even if you don't want me to."
"And you'll receive the same from me in return." I give him a nod.
All was well and going perfectly fine. That is until Harry began placing a bottle of dark green polish into one of the drawers. My instinct strong, my hand immediately reaches forward, gripping his wrist before he could fully plant the polish bottle. He shoots me a look, like he was terrified for his life.
"What do you think you're doing?" I ask, furrowing my eyebrows.
"Helping you put these away," he gestures to the drawer with his free hand, his facial expression confused. "Isn't that what I've been doing this whole time?"
"W-Why are you putting that green in there?" I ask, blinking at an abnormal rate. "I thought we already established this drawer would be warm colors only."
"I didn't think it'd be that big of a deal," Harry dares to say and my eyes grow wide in response.
"Not that big of a deal?" I repeat and I can see the immediate regret on his face. "Harry, how does this not bother you?!"
"I don't know...I just-"
"What happens if I was looking for that green and it wasn't in the drawer with the rest of the cool-toned colors, huh?!" I ask hypothetically, probably sounding absolutely insane. But I honestly didn't really care. This was something that bothered me...and it bothered me that it didn't bother him. "And now because you put in the drawer with all the warm-toned colors, I can't find it."
"Well, wouldn't you just-"
"That's beside the point, Harry," I snap, causing him to jump and I immediately feel bad for raising my voice and getting so riled up. I let out a sigh. "Sorry... This is just one of my biggest pet peeves?"
Harry chuckles, the fearful look vanishing from his face. He shakes his head, moving the green polish from the warm-toned drawer over to the cool tones, where it belonged.
"You're really something else, you know?" He says, placing a red color into the right place.
"Is that good thing or a bad thing?" I ask, nervous for his answer.
"Take it as a compliment," he tells me. "I could've already guessed you were like this... I've been in your closet."
"Like this?" I repeat, confused. "Like what? What is that supposed to mean?"
Harry laughs once again. "Nothing bad. It's just a lifestyle I'm not a part of. You like your things organized where everything has its place next to something else, it makes you easier to find things. I don't need that. When it comes to my, dare I say, organization...everything has its own place, it doesn't rely on anything else."
"Do you think it's weird? The way I have to be so organized."
"Yes," he says bluntly, and my facial expression drops to a frown. "But that's just because I don't understand." That made me feel a little better, but not a whole lot. "I find that people are like that."
"Like what?"
"Organization tendencies. Some people are so reliant on everythingâor everyone in some casesâbeing in their perfect positions, that it becomes almost impossible for them to thrive if they aren't. They lose themselves, just because everything else isn't in a perfect line." He had that look again, the one he got when he was being philosophical. The one I enjoyed looking at more than almost anything else. "Then the opposite goes for others. They don't need everything in line for them to be. Everything around them could be chaotic, but they know where they are... because they have their own place, despite what's going on around them. They don't get lost as easily."
He looks over at me and blushes, getting shy. "Sorry," he apologizes, "that got really deep."
"No, don't be sorry." I shake my head vigorously. I take a deep breath, mostly just to fill the newfound silence. "Which one do you think you are?"
"I think I'm a mix," Harry says, shrugging. "I wouldn't really say I really match with either one, so I'm gonna say I'm a hybrid."
"What do you think I am?"
"That," He sighs, "I'm still trying to figure out."
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a/n: i love harry... have i mentioned that ?