Spilled Drinks

**SEQUEL TO 'THAT BRUNETTE AND ME' SO IF YOU HAVEN'T READ IT YET, GO READ IT NOW!**
Then I decided to see what people said about his personality. I guess that he's covered in tattoos, which I guess makes him some type of womanizer, according to the magazines I searched online. I glanced at him now, searching his face for any hardness or bitterness. I did find some, which frightened me. Who knows how violent he got when he didn't get what he wanted.

I definitely didn't want to see that side of him."

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9. Chapter Nine

"I'm going out. Not you. So it shouldn't matter." He said stiffly, making me flinch. My eyes were glued to the lamp, afraid to look up at him. I didn't want to upset him at all.

"Okay.." My voice was quiet and wavering as I turned away, rushing into my bedroom. I heard him sigh heavily, before hearing the door slam shut. I sat there, hands shaking, wondering what the hell had just happened.

 

***

 

I moved my nightstand over, my arms straining intensely, as I tried to rearrange my room. I had somehow managed to move my bed inch by inch to the edge of the room, instead of being right smack dab in the middle. I smiled at my progress as I rested, hands on my hips. I heard the lock of the door click, and my eyes widened. I peeked my head out of my bedroom door, but nobody was there. The door continued to click, as if someone were trying to get in.

Robber. The thought rushed through my mind as my heart started to pound. I slammed against the wall, panic paralyzing me. I could only stare at the door, until the thought of actually looking through the peephole occurred to me. I crept up as silently as I could, my eye against the little looking glass. It was someone, but I was almost positive it was not a robber. I sighed, relief flooding me. I debated opening the door, but I wasn't sure.

I did anyways, and the person fell into the apartment. "Um, hi." I said, stepping out of their way as they stood. He looked slightly familiar, and I decided that he must've been from Harry's band, One Direction.

"Never, and I say never, open the door unless you know who they are," He said sternly, his eyes twinkling. "I'm Louis. You can now open the door to me."

I smiled, shaking his hand. "I'm Heather. But you might know that already...?" I said, ending the statement with a question. I wasn't sure if Harry had actually told his band mates about me or not, and I kind of hoped he had.

"Nope! Had to find out the hard way," He stated angrily, shaking his head. "Through Niall. C'mon, I thought I was his best mate!"

"Oh! Well, I just met Niall earlier today. So you haven't missed much." I smiled, letting him come inside further. I closed the door behind him, then hastily pushed boxes out of the way. "Sorry, I already got sick of the decorations in here. So I rented some, since we won't be staying long."

"Nice choice. So, how did Harry and you meet, anyways?" He said. He looked like he sensed something suspicious, which was entirely the truth. I sat down on one of the couches, and he followed suit. I decided to tell the truth about how we met.

"Well, it was in the Starbucks. I had a green tea, and he rammed into me and made me spill my drink all over me. It was actually terrible."

He nodded. "Yeah, you were all over the headlines, which we don't actually check that often. You are a very lucky girl, Harry is a nice fellow." He told me, holding his hands together in his lap. "Melodramatic, perhaps, but nice."

I nodded. I'd experienced his moody, dramatic side already. Or, maybe it was just the tip of the iceberg, and I was about to sink like the Titanic.

"Yeah, he's usually quite nice." I smiled, sticking my hands in my sweatshirt pocket. They were already shaking, just of me thinking about earlier. I'd never experienced something so frightening, which was actually really surprising, since New York City was sometimes very violent.

"Where is he, anyways?" He asked, his eyes leaving mine. I looked at my socks, which were gray with little designs covering it. I noted that one was falling, creating little wrinkles in the fabric. I shrugged, pulling the slouching sock up.

"He didn't say?" He inquired further, and I looked up at him. I shook my head.

"I honestly have no idea. I asked but..." I trailed off, not entirely sure what to say. I wasn't going to say he had a meltdown, because I didn't know what actually happened.

"Ah. Well, I'll see you later on. I'm going to go see my girlfriend. You and her should talk soon. She'll love you." Louis said, standing up. He smiled, waving. "Good bye!"

"Nice to meet you, Louis!" I called after him, and he shut the door behind him. I collapsed into the couch, my eyes shutting. I was entirely exhausted. And with that, I dozed off.

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