*Year 2010, September*
Big Ben was completed in the year 1858 and is a great piece of Architecture in History. Those are the exact reasons why I chose it for History Art Piece for my mum's gala. But Art was never my favorite subject in my younger years. That would've been Science, yes, boring Science. But, ever since I could read and write, all I ever did was study Einstein.
Yah, I'm a dork.
But my parents actually thought something was psychologically wrong with me, just because I wasn't the normal girl they wanted, that played with dolls and went shopping with friends. Maybe something is psychologically wrong with me but I honestly don't care.
"Miss, you're in the way," A gruff voice interrupts my thoughts.
I glance to my right and see a tired couple standing there, the man carrying a young boy on his shoulder, while the woman was pushing a stroller. I move to the right, stepping out of their way.
They walk past me and once gone, I focus my camera back on Big Ben. As I was saying, I love Science so much, that right now I know exactly how Big Ben is working at this exact moment in time. Like I said, I'm a dork.
But before my mind could state another one of my opinions on Science, a scalding hot water hits my back, and I scream out in pain.
"Agh," I scream out, dropping my camera just as I take my perfect picture of Big Ben.
I turn around, glaring directly at the guilty person. But when he removes his dark shades, revealing his sharp green eyes, I lose the glare. His mouth is slightly ajar as he realizes where his tea has gone.
"Asshole, watch where you're going, please!" I snap, taking my ruined jumper off, letting the cold London air soothe my burning back.
I reach down, biting my lip as pain erupts in my back as I bend, and pick up my camera...or what remains of it seeing as someone has stepped on it. I turn away from the green eyed guy and start walking towards a bin in the area. And just as I am about to throw my new camera away, he speaks, startling me.
"That's not my name," He says, his voice quite deep in fact.
"What?" I turn around, staring at him confused.
He doesn't answer right away, looking directly at me. My cheeks start to go rose but I focus back on my camera, stuffing it into my satchel without care.
"Asshole isn't my name," He corrects me. "It's Harry Styles."
"Well Harry," I say rudely. "You've broken my new camera and now my mum is going to kill me, throw me in a fire, and bury me in the woods."
He chuckles, “That escalated quickly.”
I roll my eyes, “You don’t know my parents. And you don’t know me.”
He cocks his head to the side, “Come with me.”
I raise an eyebrow, “Why in the world would I do that?”
He looks around, “You need to clean up and I know the perfect place.”
“Doubt it,” I snort. “I’ll just go home, thank you very much.”
But without permission, Harry grabs my hand and starts pulling me in one direction…which I still have no idea where.
“Seriously, Harry, let go,” I snap, trying to escape from his grasp but he won’t let go. “I don’t even know where we’re going!”
He pauses and looks over his shoulder, “To the bakery.” And then continues onward.