Like Clouds Cross Skies

“Oh shit.”

I need a louder alarm. I need a pneumatic drill for an alarm.

I have just over half an hour to get ready and make it to work on time. I should never have agreed to take the lunch shift today. My head feels like it's just stuffed with those little pellets you find in bean bags, and all my thoughts rattle around. I can't think coherently. I just have to rely on going through the motions. Brush my teeth, wash my face, no time for the usual skin routine, slap on some BB cream, crudely drawn eyeliner, salt spray my hair to make the waves look a bit more like they're meant to be that messy.

I look in the mirror. My auburn hair looks like a birds nest, spot scars are visible on my forehead, and there are circles beneath my eyes, dark as dusk. This will have to do.

I throw on my work uniform before hurrying into the kitchen living area. Nick's flat is so poky that the living room, kitchen, and dining room are all-in-one, a single corridor leading to the three bedrooms and one bathroom. One of the bedrooms used to be Nick's study, but it got converted into Lianne's room.

I'm grabbing my bag from the kitchen island when I see the keys. Lianne forgot her keys.

I sigh heavily. I'm definitely going to be late to work now. She'll be needing those keys seeing as she finishes early today. Last time she forgot them I found her sat on the bench across the street in the rain. No one had been in or out of the building in the hour and a half she'd been sat there. She'd looked like a drowned rat.

“You owe me one now, Lianne,” I grumble to myself as I snatch the keys from the worktop.

First sign of madness, talking to yourself, but I'm pretty sure I went mad a long time ago.

I rifle around in my bag as I head for the front door. I can't help feeling like I've forgotten something, but I shake the feeling off. I check the time on my phone. Twenty minutes to get the keys to Lianne and then make it to Chesters. I'm pushing it. I am so pushing it.

I yank open the door as I slip my feet into my pumps, but instead of an empty corridor I'm greeted with a face I've seen a lot of recently.

I stare at Harry for a moment, bewildered. He's wearing a simple navy jumper and jeans and that easy smile of his. And once again I look like I've been dragged through a hedge backwards.

“Aren't you supposed to be at the photo shoot?” The words tumble clumsily from my lips.

He pulls on his hair, moving it off his face. “Well I was, but I've come to get Lianne's keys. She was already in a panic so...” he shrugs, “I didn't want her exploding or anything. I turned up early anyway.”

“Oh,” I say, surreptitiously dragging my fingers through my hair; I forgot to brush it before I put the salt spray on, and I can feel it turning into a mass of frizz. “I've got them. Her keys. I was gonna drop them off on my way to work.”

“What time's your shift?” Harry asks.

I'm acutely aware of the seconds we're wasting loitering in the doorway; I could be at the tube station by now.

“One,” I answer.

Harry frowns at his watch, a smattering of tattoos visible on his wrist as he pushes up his sleeve. I barely have a moment to study them before he drops his arm. “I can drive you, if you want. Might save some time.”

I shake my head. “Nah, it's fine.”

He raises an eyebrow, his dimples visible in his cheeks. Dimples any girl would sell their right arm for.

“Honestly, it's fine-” I begin, but he interrupts.

“You're in a rush, it's raining, and it's the least I can do. Come on,” he says, reaching behind me to shut the door, thereby forcing me into the hall. I scramble out of the way before I'm pressed up against him and tripping over his feet. “I won't take no for an answer.”

“I can't-” I try and speak, but once again he cuts in.

“Can't refuse my offer? Thought so, come on.”

He's smirking at me, and I can feel the corners of my mouth attempting to twist into a smile, but I force them down. I'm already pretty much indebted to him after the fiasco at the pub with Aaron. At this rate I'll be writing a list of the things I owe him for.

But then I think; I really need to get to work. Really need to. I've been late for two other shifts this past month, and Ian, my cold-hearted boss, threatened to at least suspend me, or even sack me, if I was late again. I got fired from my last job, and I can't let it happen again. It was hard enough finding this one, and if I can't pay my share of the rent then I'm stuffed. As much as I hate to admit it, a lift to work would save my soul right now.

“Thanks,” I say to Harry as we head for the stairs. I don't really know what else to say.

“It's fine,” he answers. “You need to get to work, I need to get Lianne her keys; we're just killing two birds with one stone.”

Our footsteps echo throughout the stairwell. “I think I owe you about forty drinks now,” I say as an awkward half-laugh escapes me.

“I'm pretty sure I owe you some drinks too.”

I frown at him as we enter the tiny lobby. Through the translucent glass of the front doors I can just make out rain slashing down. So that's what I forgot: my umbrella. Well, at least I have a ride. “How so?” I ask Harry.

A smile grows on his face, and if I didn't know any better I'd say it looked a little embarrassed. “That article,” he simply says.

I pause, and then I remember. Mystery redhead. The gossip piece linking me to Harry. I had almost forgotten about it. I'd been worrying about the Aaron situation in general. That tabloid almost seems like nothing now. Almost. It did help to spark off events the other night. My stomach clenches a little, but I try and ignore it.

I wave Harry's words away, attempting to seem nonchalant. My anger towards him seems to have run its course; I at least can't be angry with him after he stuck up for me during that argument with Aaron. Harry may be the cause of all this, but he's redeemed himself in a way. Just as long as nothing else comes of this. Just as long as there's no more drama.

I hope.

“Oh it's fine,” I say. “That tabloid couldn't even find out who I was. I don't mind. It's my claim to fame anyway.”

The last bit gets a laugh out of Harry as he opens the door for me. The sound of the rain scudding the pavement suddenly grows in volume. “Might just call you 'mystery redhead' from now on.”

I throw him a deadpan look as I falter beneath the porch, not wanting to brave the rain just quite yet. “Bit of a mouthful,” I comment.

He shrugs. “I could make it work as a nickname.”

“You are Harry Styles after all,” I say.

He chuckles, but it's not as loud, more subdued. I glance at him, but he's watching the rain instead, his brow furrowed and his shoulders raised against the chill. Neither of us has a coat.

“Run on the count of three?” he suggests, finally looking at me. His car is parked just a few metres away.

“Okay.”

“One,” he says, and his smile returns, “two... three!”

We rush down the steps, the downpour slicing in from the right, the wind driving it at an angle. Thankfully, the passenger side is closest to the pavement, and I'm climbing into the car as Harry is running round the front. I can't help but feel a wicked sense of amusement. He throws open his door and clambers inside. It's when he notices my grin that he shakes his hair out like a dog, showering me with tiny droplets.

I shout out, shielding my head with my arms. When I lower them, I catch him smiling at me, and he shrugs, adding a sarcastic, “Sorry.”

“You will be,” I say before I can catch myself. It's my automatic sarcastic response for whenever Lianne or Nick say sorry for something that hasn't really offended me, and I'm surprised to find the words spilling out so easily. I'm alarmed, almost. I don't usually feel this comfortable around people I haven't known for ages, and I don't know if I like it or not. I don't know how I feel about it.

Harry turns the key in the ignition. “Is that a threat?”

He doesn't sound offended; he's going along with the joke. Did I expect that? I don't know. But in a way I'm relieved. “Yep,” I answer matter-of-factly.

I glance at my building as Harry pulls away from the curb. “How did you even get up to my floor?” I ask before he has time to say anything else.

“A woman was letting herself in as I was walking up the steps. She said she'd let me into the building without having to buzz a flat if I gave her my autograph for her niece. I took her up on the offer.”

I glance at him to find him smirking at me. “So in other words,” I say, “you were just too lazy to buzz my flat.”

“No,” he answers simply, with a shrug, “I was being nice.”

I look at him superciliously, but I realise he was being sincere. “Alright,” I say, turning back to my window, “just because the kiddies love you.”

He laughs. “Naturally.”

By the time we reach the Wildfire offices, I have five minutes to get to work. I texted Lianne to meet us outside so I could chuck the keys at her then speed-walk the two streets to Chesters. Harry pulls up in a parking space outside the offices, Lianne waiting beneath the tiny porch roof over the doorway. This time I'm the one who has to run round the front of the car in the pouring rain, and I huddle in the porch with the other two.

I fish Lianne's keys out of my handbag and pass them to her. She sighs with relief. “Oh thank God,” she says, managing a genuine yet weary smile. “One less thing to worry about at least.”

“You're not the one who has to be photographed all day,” Harry says.

Lianne elbows him lightly. “You love it really.”

See, she's the one who has always been the easiest around people. She slips into any social situation with wit and dopey charm. I'm the fish out of water.

I drop my train of through, let the rope go slack. What does it matter?

“Right, I need to get to work; I have three minutes before Ian crucifies me and hangs me on the wall for all the restaurant to see,” I say, just about to back out of the porch.

“Wait, wait, wait!” Lianne flaps. “I have good news.”

“Spit it out then,” I say, maybe a little too irritably, but I need to get to work.

“I've secured the other four features,” she says. When I just stare blankly, she continues with a roll of her eyes, “In the next four issues after this one I'll be doing another 'my week with' feature on one of the other One Direction boys.”

I glance at Harry, I can't help it. “Does that mean I'm gonna have a different One Direction lad seeing me sprawled out on the sofa in my pyjamas for one week each month?”

Harry smirks and says, “Can't get rid of us that easily.”

“Can't get rid of you that easily, you mean,” I say. And there I go again, not thinking before I speak. “I'm happy for you though, Lianne, really,” I add, turning to her.

She smiles. “Thanks Kail. Anyway, you'd better run, you have... one minute before Ian murders you.”

“Right, okay,” I say, stumbling off the porch and into the rain. “Have fun with the photo shoot!” I call back, turning around in the downpour to wave.

Lianne waves back, grinning, as she disappears inside. Harry follows her, glancing at me before he goes into the warm and dry. I think I see him smile, and I awkwardly raise my hand to wave goodbye to him too, but by then he's gone.