Love in a Package

--SEQUEL TO LOVED--
Ashalee was in love. Everything seemed to be perfect but she decided, that instead of venturing with that love to places far, she had said no denying that love. Harry Styles, didn't expect to see the girl who broke his heart ever again, let alone have her working with him co-hosting a radio show. But she's back in his life again. She's with someone else. But Harry still desires her, his flames never died, he sends his love. First in a letter, then it turns into something more.

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4. New Girl

Harry's POV

I was stuck in dream land as the studio manager Kris came by and knocked on the door. I jumped a bit, but not enough for Kris to acknowledge.

"Have you seen new girl?"

I nodded no, I instinctively moved my hand up to my face swiping at my forehead going to swat the unruly curls to the side but I had forgotten that my I had cut them not to long ago. Now a curly quiff was placed appropriately on my head instead on the more childlike mop.

"Show starts in five Kris, what happens if she's late?"

"Dunno, think of something. This never happens with Gigi or you." Kris began to think if this whole swap was a good idea, it wasn't.

I began to think of a whole list of I told you so's that I could go over. I was totally against this whole promotional stunt. I stirred my tea and took a swig, Kris grimaced at me.

"Don't be drinking that bloody tea near this expensive studio equipment!" Kris lingered in the doorway checking his watch. He cursed under his breath.

I took another sip of my tea and placed it on the coffee table away from the equipment and Kris gave me small smile. He was always such a worry wart, but I was getting nervous as well, Gigi was never late and if she weren't to be there then she would have rang us up and we could of have found a replacement by now.

I routinely placed on my big, clunky, studio headphones and prepared for the worst. The script Gigi had helped me write for today was meant for two people and I have no idea how the hell I was to it by myself without sounding like a complete fool to our listeners.

A wave to dark locks burst into the studio room and rushed to the seat next to me.

"I am so sorry," she mumbled to Kris, "I had trouble finding my way around and I even left an hour earlier than I normally would have but the traffic here...I'm just...I am so sorry."

Desperate blue eyes darted to the headphones and placed them over her ears. She saw a copy of the script next to my hand and yanked it and shoved her bag to the floor.

Kris took in the beautiful girl sitting in the chair, "It's okay." he said.

I couldn't believe my eyes. Kris rushed to the sound booth and began to monitor the show from behind a glass window.

She looked into my eyes smiling, "Hi my name is," her eyes squinted almost not believing them. "oh fuck this." She finished. I couldn't speak but I had to string together a coherent sentence for the show airing in thirty seconds. My eyes flipped through the typed words on the script.

"Good morning out there in radio land. You are listening to IPC Radio UK."

Ashalee didn't fumble at all, she introduced herself to the viewers and some we took some people's calls. It was mainly people gushing about how they thought her accent was adorable.

She would just blush and say, "I don't know about my accent but I just adorable British ones."

We went by a few sketches, some funny some hilarious, and we scanned through some topics about politics.

My heart kept beating, this isn't happening...this is just a cruel dream.

How much I loved to be near her again, and how horribly terrifying it was.

I had to be on a radio show, for six months, everyday, with the girl who ripped my heart out.

When the show was over Kris came to congratulate Ashalee, he looked at her, too long. He was flirting a bit but I was too paralyzed to even step in. I just watch them interact, when Kris awkwardly walked away. Ashalee looked at me again scanning me up and down.

She looked away not even being able to stare at me any longer, "Shit. It's really you."

I nodded even though she wasn't directly speaking at me, more to the floor if anything else.

"Harry-fucking-Styles."

I laughed earning a quick look. I couldn't read it, or maybe I just couldn't read Ashalee anymore.

When she sat down next to me on the chair she reached for the script that was marked 'evening broadcast'.

I hadn't properly spoken to her and I wasn't really sure that I could.

Ashalee was talking to me, but the conversation was completely one-sided. "Ain't irony a bitch. Four years have passed and now I'm here with you. I'd honestly thought I would have never seen you again. I don't know if I should be happy or sad. Normally my body decides for me, you know me being bipolar and all..." she trailed off, "Of course you know. I'm rambling. But this is just so fucking ironic I can't even wrap my head around it."

Ashalee got up and patted me on the shoulder.

The first form of physical contact from her in four...years.

"See you later, ya know, for the evening show."

She was gone, and this wouldn't mean anything but I finally got the balls to say something.

"Hi."

It didn't matter though, the only people who could've heard it where, me, myself, and the air.

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