a.k.a sue.
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this is future bryn here...basically harry lambert posted my tiktok on his instagram AND twitter (it's the hannah montana one).
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"Harry." I sigh, tilting my head to the side, changing my view of the road.
"L," he says back in the same tone. His elbow was resting against the car door, right below the window. His bottom lip rests between his teeth as he concentrates on the road.
"You know," I let out a small laugh, a smile creeping across my face. "I really like it when you call me that," I admit to him.
"Call you what?" He furrows his eyebrows. I laugh at how clueless he could be sometimes.
"L," I say. "I like it when you call me L. No one else calls me that."
"No one else?" His eyebrows quirk up briefly.
"No one else," I confirm.
"So...you want me to call you L?" He asks, the corner of his mouth turning up.
"I mean if you'd be okay with it." I shrug.
"Alright, L," he says, making my smile widen. "But you know what you have to call me?"
"What?" I ask, looking over at him. I was genuinely curious as to what he wanted me to call him. I just kind of assumed he liked H...he never told me otherwise so I didn't have much else to go off of.
"Sexy Stud Muffin," he says with a straight face.
I wasn't 100% sure if he was being serious or not, and I tried so hard to hold back my laughter, I really did. But sometimes, you just can't hold it in...no matter how hard you try.
"What?" He asks, a serious look still on his face, lips pressed into a thin line.
"Are you being serious?" I use my hand to desperately hide my smile.
"No." He finally cracks a smile. He turns his head briefly to look at me for only a split second before turning his attention back to the road.
"Okay good." I place my hand over my heart, relieved he was joking after all.
"What were you gonna say, L?" He Speaks up, the corner of his lip tugging up.
"Oh right." I clear my throat, trying to regain my much more serious attitude from before. "Anyways," I say. "Do you remember, in California...when you asked me to tell you a secret," I recall and he nods. "Will you tell me a secret?"
"A secret?"
"Yeah." I shrug.
"Why do you want to tell me a secret?" He asks and I had a strong feeling he was either stalling so he could come up with an answer, or trying avoiding the question altogether. I just wasn't entirely sure which one it was. "Are you trying to get dirt on me? Blackmail, maybe?"
"Yep," I say sarcastically. "Now tell me so I have something to hold against you when we visit your mom."
"My secret is..." he says slowly, obviously thinking out loud, tilting his head to the side. "My secret is...a secret."
"Oh come on." I roll my eyes. "I told you something I've never really told anyone. Can't I at least know something?"
"Well you see, L," he begins to say before sighing. "I can't tell you my secret. Not yet, at least."
"And why not?" I lean on my elbow, which was resting against the center console of Harry's expensive car.
"Because..." he looks down at me for only a short second, just like he did before. "I can't tell you my secret yet. It's too early."
I furrow my eyebrows. He was back to his intentionally confusing statements now. As charming as it is, I really wish he would just tell me exactly what he means every once in a while.
"But I'm glad you brought up visiting my mum," he speaks up again, his body shifting in his seat. "I talked to her on the phone on the way home from my meeting this morning, and I asked her when it would be best that we came. And of course she said we were 'welcome anytime', but I like to give her more of a heads up than that. So she just told me to talk to you about it when I got home and let her know."
I stare at him, waiting for him to continue, since there wasn't really much I could say.
"So I was thinking we could go tomorrow, or even the next day, depending on what you want," Harry says, tilting his head to the other side. "She wants us to stay over at least one night...if that's okay with you, of course."
"I'm down for whatever," I tell him honestly, shrugging.
"We'll be home before Valentine's Day no matter what." His head turns to me once again, a strong smirk playing over his pink lips. I felt butterflies erupt inside my stomach as I realized what he was implying. My cheeks heat up and I turn away from his stare.
Harry chuckles. "Just let me know so I can tell my mum. She's eager to see you."
"Are you sure she's not eager to see you?" I ask, being much more rational than him.
"Oh trust me." He lets out a single, breathy laugh. "She wants to see you."
I turn to look out the window, watching as large buildings pass by, along with a few people walking. I thought about meeting Anne in such a formal setting...as Harry's girlfriend, I mean. It feels very early to be doing so, but I guess I'm just starting to roll with things now. Everything happens for a reason, right?
And if I'm ever unsure, I'll ask Jessica The Wise.
"Harry's studio is just up here," Harry informs me and I nod.
Soon enough, Harry pulls his car off to the side of the street, parking near the curb. He turns off the car and steps out. I do the same before following him into the white building. Harry reaches forward, opening the door for me. As I walk through, giving him an appreciative nod, I hear the honk of his car locking. Harry enters the building behind me and we're met with a tall, large hall.
"This way." Harry nods to his left, where a staircase stood.
I follow behind him, hiking up the flight of stairs to the second level. After stepping up the top step, Harry turns around, holding his hand out for me to grasp. I gladly take ahold of his hand and he leads me over to a glass door in which he opens for me to step through first, just as he did before.
I walk into the next room, and my eyes meet with a large white desk with an Apple desktop sitting on top, along with loads of papers. I feel Harry's hand on the small of my back, leading me over to the right side of the room.
"Hi Harry," the woman behind the desk says.
"Good morning, Shelley," Harry says back, stopping in his tracks. "How are you?"
"I'm doing well, how have you been darling?" She says back, her face lighting up.
"Very well, thank you," he says with a nod, before he starts walking again, lightly pushing me along.
"You just know everybody, don't you?" I say to him quietly as he opens a bright green door.
"I come here a lot." He smiles as I walk through.
Another staircase stands before me, but this one was much smaller and the steps went down into the large room.
I walk down the steps, Harry following closely behind me.
"It looks like he's not here yet," Harry says, taking the last stair.
"Do you know how much longer he'll be?" I ask, though I wasn't feeling impatient or anything.
"Not much longer...he might just be getting something to eat." Harry says with a shrug. He gestures over to the other side of the room. "We can sit down if you'd like."
My eyes follow the direction of his finger over to an emerald green couch, decorated with very colorful and extravagant throw pillows.
"Sure," I say simply, following behind Harry to take a seat while we wait for Harry Lambert to arrive.
Harry sits down first, his lavender corduroy pants resting comfortably around his legs, a white Purple Rain graphic tee hugging his torso loosely.
I sit next to him, rubbing my sweaty palms against the thighs of my black jeans. I wasn't sure why I was so nervous to meet Harry's stylist, but I guess I always seem to be nervous to meet anyone for the first time.
I look down at my shoe, my leg bouncing up and down anxiously.
"Is that Angel Sue I see?" I hear an excited British voice call. Harry and I both look up to see a man with very short, blonde hair walking down the stairs near the door we came in through.
"Angel Sue?" I ask Harry in a hushed tone as we both stand up to greet him.
"It's his thing. He's called me it for as long as I can remember," he says quickly as Harry Lambert approaches us. "It's a long story."
And before I could say anything else, Harry encapsulates Harry in a hug.
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a/n: the purple corduroy flares deserved better. ð ð ð
say "eye" if you agree.