Harry and Annabelle

Even if Harry has got money on his hands, millions of fans, and 4 best friends and family, he is still very anti-social and would only let a few into his life. Annabelle Greenewood, a 19 year old girl who stumbled across Harry after she had to cover up for her mother begins to develop a connection with him everyday she is with him.

Please read this :( thank you! It's my first fanfic so no hate please thank you xx


1. Hey, I just met you..

Harry and Annabelle ~

"Come on hun you're not doing me any favors lying in bed right there," my mum complained from downstairs. The pancakes' delicious smells were traveling through my nostrils and almost every sense that was in my body urged me to get out of bed and get ready but I didn't want to. I loved pancakes but I was in no mood whatsoever to get out of bed. After constant nagging from my mum my short temper reached its name and I threw the bed sheets and stomped my way to the bathroom and frowned as I furiously brushed my teeth and tugged at my messy blonde hair. I curled it a bit from the sides and tied it in a loose bun. 

I slipped the belt into position and shuffled the songs on my iPod and tried to ignore the pain nagging in my head. 

"Go, go, go!" My mother shot at me impatiently. 

"Jeez, you're not even late to the airport relax.." I rushed out the car to avoid any more complaints from my mum. 

"Bye honey remember, take care of yourself and call me if you need anything. Bye sweetie I'll miss you," she rushed her words and blew me a quick air kiss and headed off before I could even tell her that I loved her. I walked slowly to the hospital kitchen as I instructed.

"Hey, I'm here to cover up for my mum. Is there anything I can -" I was rudely interrupted by an old lady who pushed me to where the soup was. I clenched my teeth and growled at her but she ignored me.

"Yeah, yeah, just deliver this soup to Room 236," she said in a cold manner. I carried the bowl of soup on a tray and stuck out my tongue to her before I left the kitchen. Wow, everyone is so nice today.

I groaned quietly under my breath and complained as my feet squeezed into those killing high heels that would shoot pain through my heels into almost every step. Why did I decide to wear high heels today? I forced a grin as I entered the patient's room. He had green eyes and a fresh, young face that greeted me with a smile that revealed a line of straight, white teeth, which also triggered two dimples at the sides of his mouth, and his face was framed by a halo of chocolate brown, healthy and well-maintained hair, that had tangled, messy curls sticking from the ends.
"Bad day, huh?" He chuckled with confidence, and reached his hands out for the warm bowl of, as I assume, bitter soup that the hospital serves.
"Killer high heels," I shrugged, and smiled once again, but more sincerely this time before I handed it to him. He didn't complain about the bitter soup and slowly gulped it down. I whipped my eyes to the machinery attached to multiple parts of his obviously weak and fragile frame, and then to the monitor which illustrated the steady rise and fall of the thin green line. The gap between the thin beige curtains revealed the now fully risen sun which beamed right into my eyes made me squint a little bit before I opened my eyes slowly, now much used to the harsh bright light source.
“Aren’t you a little young to be working in a hospital?” He managed to ask, with a mouthful filled with the thick soup which dripped down his chin and onto his plain shirt. I stood up to rub the liquid off of him but halfway through I twisted my ankle.
“Ahh..” I hissed, standing in my place and taking in the pain. “Stupid heels!” The boy stayed quiet and was at utmost silence. I ignored the pain and dabbed his chin and his shirt gently with a white handkerchief which I retrieved back into my pocket. I didn’t even make eye contact with him and I can sense he was staring at me. It was really weird…and creepy.
“Would you stop that?!” I spat, causing a mildly pained expression to form on his face. I glanced at him and apologized before I went back to my seat and flung the red painful shoes at the white wash wall, making a dark mark or two on it.
“I’m 19, and I’m covering up for my mum,” I sighed, rubbing my soon to be blistering feet. I untied my blonde bun and secured it with an extra rubber band that was hanging from my wrist.
“19?!” He squeaked. “I could have sworn you were 16!”
“I know…” I sighed, drooping my shoulders and hiding my cold hands under my sleeves to keep them warm.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean it that way!” He rushed his words.
“Its okay," I assured him. "How’s the soup?” I gulped, trying my best to clear the awkwardness from the seemingly tiny plain room.
“Soup?” He laughed. “More like soap...” he shook his head and laughed a little again but quieter and went back to his soup. I shot him a smile with a hint of warmth and positivity which he returned.
“Hey…uhh…what’s your name?”
“Harry. Yours?”

"Are you Sure about that?" He joked. "You don't seem so sure."

"You sure do laugh a lot don't you.." I automatically commented. "And you sure are very optimistic even with your situation right now." He raised an eyebrow in confusion.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" He sounded a bit upset, yet his facial expressions seemed so
calm at the same time. 

"Ehmm..sorry. It's just that all the patients I've met were so grumpy and you're here very happy..."

"Right, I get free food, a free room and I don't have to take care of myself," he stated, setting the empty bowl on the desk-drawer near him and slipping his hands into his tangled curls.

"That's one way to look at things," I grinned due to surprise of his actions. I've never seen a patient so happy about being sick. I found it really weird..and what's weirder, there was something that urged me to be protective over him. 
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