Pretend It's Love (Harry Styles)

Margarette Wilson has dug her way into a large hole of a lie. Can a curly haired guy be the solution to her problems.


4. ~Chapter Three~


If I had learned anything at all from working in Anna's shop for the last few years it would be that Harry Styles is possibly the biggest boots fanatic yet a terrible steward over them.


Every pair he owned seemed to have scuffs of one kind or another and it seemed as if they only got polished once in a blue moon. He’d admitted to Anna once that he deliberately scuffed them because he hated when shoes looked “too brand new”. Of course Anna didn’t mind because that gave her favourite customer all the more reason to stop by the shop but I on the other hand was quite annoyed to see the various scuffs and scratches that adorned Harry’s trusty brown boots. If he wants to be my fake boyfriend he better polish his boots.


“You’ve honestly got to take better care of your shoes, Harry.” I scolded as I carefully brushed the shoes with my shoe brush making sure that there was no extra debris left behind.


I didn’t even have to look up at Harry to know that he was smiling.


“But these are my lucky boots. They hardly ever get polished. Good things happen to me when I’m wearing these boots.” Harry replied.


I rolled my eyes. Lucky boots? who even believes in luck anymore?


“Obviously, these boots can’t be that lucky if they’re being neglected and deprived of the proper care.” I shot back.


He sighed “ If I took such good care of them, I wouldn’t get a chance to see you and Anna so often. After all, you all are my two favourite ladies.”


I felt a grin tugging at the corner of my lips. Is he flirting? Flirting was good. Flirting would make my plan work so much easier.


“You pick two shoe shining birds over your mum? I bet she’d been so heartbroken to hear this.” I teased as I began rubbing small circles of polish over the various areas that contained scratches.


I could hear Harry chuckle.


“I resent that remark. I love my mum very much but she won’t polish my shoes free of charge.” He retorted.


“If you keep it up, I’ll make sure to charge you the price we make customers we don’t like pay.” I warned playfully.


Whenever Harry came in the shop, our conversations were short, usually consisting of weekend plans, basic observations of the weather, and the typical banter about his lack of care for his shoes. If we were going to make this fake relationship work we would have to get to know each other better. But it couldn’t happen in the shop, not with the watchful, curious eyes of Anna nearby.


“Looks like you’re good to go, mate.” I declared giving Harry’s boots one final swipe with my cloth once I was finally finished working the scratches and scuffs out of his beloved pair of shoes.


I looked down at his large feet rather pleased with my work. Harry stood up and extended both of his hands out to me to help me up from my spot on the floor. I gladly accepted the gesture and for the first time noticed how large his hands were. They practically smothered mine.


He grinned staring down at his boots, large dimples denting his cheeks. “They look good as new. Thanks, love.” Harry praised.


I smiled. “Anytime. I doubt I do as good a job as Anna, though.”


I shrugged making my way back behind the counter. Even though Harry’s boots were now virtually clean, they still made this horrible noise whenever he walked. It almost sounded like someone’s head hitting a hardwood floor as he sauntered over to the counter and leaned against it.


“I reckon you do as just as good a job, if not better.” Harry replied.


I smirked. “Don’t let Anna hear you say that.” I whispered.


Speaking of Anna, she was no where to be found which was quite odd I must say. Harry awkwardly stared down at his boots and I drummed my finger tips against the counter. As awkward as the situation was and as much as I wanted Anna to come to my rescue, I realised that now was the perfect time to put my plan into action. The next time that Harry might stop by would be too late. Mum could wake up any day now and demand to meet my boyfriend. I refuse to look like a bloody idiot.


“Even though you stop by the shop often, we’ve never really gotten the chance to actually talk and get to know each other, what do say about getting together sometime?” I asked breaking the silence.


Harry’s green eyes met mine and he smiled “I’d like that, yeah. What are you doing tonight?”


I bit my lip trying to hide the big grin that was forming. Not because I was flattered or excited that Harry was agreeing to all of this but only because things were moving at just the right pace.


“Oh, probably curled up watching Netflix in my pyjamas with my cat and eating take away.” I replied causally.


Harry chuckled. “How does drinks sound, tonight say, eight? There’s this little pub, not to far from here. Wild Sphinx it’s called. I’m quite keen on it.” He suggested.


I grinned. “That sounds ace. Just gimmie your phone so you can give me a ring in case anything changes.” I replied. Things can’t change. I don’t have time for changes.


The exchanging of numbers was rather quick yet exhausting. For some strange reason I’d always found that part of dating to be rather tedious. Maybe it was because I know I’d only delete the contact from my phone after a date or two.


Harry grinned while shoving his phone in the back pocket of his skinny jeans which were usually so tight I wondered how they couldn’t be uncomfortable. “Guess my lucky boots are getting a head start today. I’ll see you at eight, yeah?” He asked.


I nodded. "Eight. But don’t be surprised if I’m fashionably late. The beauty doesn’t happen on it’s own, ya know.” I joked.


Harry chuckled. “I'll see you tonight, Margarette. Tell Annabelle I said goodbye.” He instructed.


I smiled. “Will do. See you next time, Harry.”


With that, Harry gave me one last smile before exiting the shop, causing the sound of the brass bell and the hideous clump of his boots behind him.


I must say, I’m quite chuffed with the way things have turned out so far. Let’s just hope that things go just as well tonight.


I wasn’t joking when I told Harry I wouldn't be on time and it had nothing to do with my appearance. It was one of my rules of thumb when it came to dating. I never arrived exactly on time for dates. Arriving on time made you look over eager and desperate and I wasn’t the type that lead guys on. However things were quite different this time. I was eager to see Harry and I was desperate now more than ever for a boyfriend.


It was 8:30 by the time I actually arrived at the Wild Sphinx. I’d wasted time by changing my cat Zigzag's litter box, slowly picking the cat hair off the little black dress I’d decided to wear and deliberately being indecisive about what I wanted to do with my hair and make up. My hair options were pretty easy since I just left it out.


Loud music pounded in my ears as my eyes frantically scanned the dimly lit pub in search of Harry. There were a decent amount of people present considering it was a Saturday night. Lucky for me I could see over the crowd since I’d decided on wearing heels tonight. After what seemed like forever, I finally spotted a head of familiar, messy, curly hair adorned with a black hat sitting at the bar. I grinned and maneuverer my way through the crowd trying my hardest not to look anxious.


“Hey, you!” I greeted once I’d reached Harry at the bar.


He spun around in his chair and turned to face me with a wide grin that showed his dimples. He was wearing another one of his various bright printed shirts, this one black with red flamingos. His usual failure to button the first few buttons gave me a pleasant yet unwanted view of his toned, tattoo adorned chest.


“Hello to you too. I almost thought you weren’t coming.” Harry spoke fiddling with the shot glass in his hand.


I playfully swatted his shoulder. “I already told you, beauty takes time.” I replied taking the bar stool next to him.


A small smile swept over Harry’s lips “Well, I think you look quite lovely.”


I could feel a blush creeping on my cheeks. “Hey bartender! Coke and Rum please.” I shouted tapping my fingers on the bar’s counter. I wasn’t entirely anti-social or boring but alcohol made me lively and friendly. I’d already had a shot or two in between the time that I was stalling at home just to make things a little less awkward between Harry and I. I was buzzed and desperately hoping that I didn’t look like a bloody idiot.


“So, you’re in a good mood. How was the rest of your day?” Harry asked after the bartender had returned with my drink.


I downed it before even uttering a word earning and amused and perplexed expression from my male companion.


“Oh, nothing just what I usually do, lounge around with my cat.” I replied before flagging the bartender down for another drink.


This is exactly why Lucy and Mum thought I was going to die alone with a billion cats. I liked my cat more than I liked most people. If it weren’t for Anna, I’d probably be snuggled in bed all day with Zigzag.


Harry smiled. “I see you’re very fond of cats. I like em too. I’ve got an old cat at my mum’s. Cat was even my first word.” He chuckled.


My eyes widened as I took a long sip of my drink.


“I love cat’s, you love cats! We were made for each other!”


Harry let out a low chuckle. “Shouldn't we have a couple of long walks on the beach before we decide that, yeah?” He asked. Nope, because I honestly don’t have time for all that lovey, dovey getting to know one another rubbish. I need a boyfriend and I need one now.


After some time I’d lost count of how many drinks I’d has and was about 100% positive I was fully pissed. Harry seemed slightly buzzed but still sober enough to carry on a conversation with me that I was not even listening to. Maybe it was the loud music or the fact that I was too drunk to care.


“Hey, you wanna dance?” I slurred interrupting Harry mid sentence.


He smiled softly. “Why not?”


He then stood up from his bar stool and extended his hand for me to take. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to wear heels because I nearly fell face first after standing up. Harry placed his hand on the small of my back and led me out to the dance floor where a few couples were swaying to the music. He gently wrapped his arms around my waist and I followed suit by sloppily wrapping mine around his neck. I swear, the last time I’d slow danced was at formal in high school. I had to be completely drunk to agree to this.


Harry smiled at me as I struggled to keep up with the music. His feet were doing most of the moving. I was just too drunk to move my feet. I bet we looked like idiots. This was the closest I’d ever been to Harry and I certainly didn’t mind. His cologne smelt wonderful and I was debating if I ever wanted to get out of this position.


“Ya know, I like you Margarette. A lot.” He whispered.


With heels on I was nearly as tall as his so he didn’t have to bend down like he would have if I were at my usual height.


I grinned. “I like you too Harry. You smell nice and you like cats.” I slurred.


Harry chuckled. “Maybe we could do something like this more often, yeah?” He asked. Even though I was drunk I was still slightly cringing on the inside at the thought of multiple dates.


“Of course we have to do this more often. If you’re going to be my boyfriend and all.” I slurred.


Suddenly, the smile that had been on Harry’s face earlier disappeared. He narrowed his green eyes in confusion.


“What?” He questioned.


“You’re going to be my boyfriend. You have to be my boyfriend. I neeeeed one.” I slurred grabbing the collar of his shirt. By now we’d stop swaying and the couples on the dance floor were beginning to stare.


“Margarette, I think you’ve had too many. I think it’s time to get you home, yeah?” He suggested taking my hand and slowly leading me away.


I tried to resist but nearly fell on my face again and after all, Harry was much stronger.


“No, not until I make you my boyfriend! It’s just for pretend!” I drunkenly protested.


“We’re getting a cab.” Harry spoke firmly pushing open the doors that led outside.


Everything from there was a total blur.


Every time I think things are going swimmingly they turn out to be a total disaster.

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