a/n: when among us isn't cool anymore this title will be so stupid lmfao
sorry for the wait!! but this one is kinda longer so hopefully it makes up for itð¥º
(also, pay attention to EVERY. DETAIL. there's a lot of important hints in here that you're gonna wanna remember!!)
* * *
Harry's pizza was good. Very good, actually. Insanely good, maybe...if he's lucky.
But my pasta will be better.
My mom could win over anyone's heart just by feeding them a bowl of her famous pasta, so there's no possible way I could ever lose this competition.
I sent her a text last night after Harry and I ate, just so I would have time to prepare and make sure I had all the ingredients I needed. She didn't respond until earlier this afternoon, which normally I would've found really offensive, since she wakes up around 7 AM every morning (yes, she's that type). But considering our time zones were so different, I let it slide. I mean, she doesn't even know I'm in London.
Since my mom replied just after lunchtime, that gave me plenty of time to figure out what I had and what I needed.
"Well I know we have spinach," I say to Harry, who sat on the couch, watching an episode of some British reality dating show. Something about an island...I don't know.
I was in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, staring down at the recipe my mom sent me.
"You don't have anything fresh, do you?" I ask Harry from afar.
"I haven't been home since Christmas, so not really," he hollers back, "what all do you need?"
I look down at the list.
"Farfalle pasta, olive oil, garlic, spinach, broth, Italian seasoning, parmesan, and red chili pepper flakes," I read off.
"Maybe check the cupboards," he says. "I can't say for sure what I have...but I can tell you I have olive oil and at least one of the seasonings. What kind of broth do you need?"
"Well the recipe calls for chicken broth," I tell him. "You're also supposed to put chicken in the pasta, but I know you don't eat meat, so I will just have to find something to substitute for those two things."
"You could try mushrooms," he suggests and my eyes widen.
"Mushrooms?" I ask, surprised. "Do mushrooms even taste like anything?"
"If you season them right, they can be quite tasty actually."
"Okay." I shrug, deciding to go along with what he says.
I push myself up off the counter, heading over to the refrigerator to check for the vegetables first. I open the fridge door and crouch down to take a look into the drawers on the bottom. They were both fairly bare, only filled with the spinach he bought for the pizzas yesterday and a singular lime. I took that as a sign that I would need to run to a nearby store to get at least the garlic and mushrooms.
After closing the fridge, I noted that Harry didn't keep anything on his countertop besides a toaster and a knife block, so there wouldn't be anything I needed on the counter. The kitchen (and the whole house in general) was very tidy, almost spotless.
I make my way over to the cupboards, going along and checking the shelves inside each one. Cups and mugs, plates and bowls, spices.
My eyes rake over the spice rack, reading the labels of everything in sight. He had pepper, which the recipe called for, but I didn't see any red chili pepper flakes. At first I thought there wasn't any Italian seasoning as well, but once I took a closer look, I found some.
With a sigh, I made a mental note of everything Harry did and didn't have, coming to the conclusion that I wouldn't be able to make the recipe without going to the store. But that was something I was willing to do...only to win of course.
I make my way into the living room where Harry is sitting on the couch, watching the reality show on the television intently.
"Looks like I have to go to the store," I lean over the back to the couch to tell him. I wrap my arms loosely over his neck, being extra careful to make sure I didn't choke him. My cheeks rests against his as I hug him, looking at the TV to see what could possibly be so interesting.
"Okay," he says simply, placing his hand on my arm as a way of acknowledging my hug. "My card is in my wallet. You'll want to use the black one."
"I don't need it," I tell him with a laugh. "I have money. But thank you for offering."
"Please take it." He turns his head to face me and I pull my head back a little to look at him. He had a frown on his lips, giving me puppy eyes. "I'll feel bad if you spend your money to fill the cabinets."
"But I'm making dinner," I argue. "Therefore I should pay for the supplies."
"But you're making dinner," he retaliates. "Therefore, I should pay you for your labor."
I squint my eyes at him rather than admit that he definitely had a point. But no matter what, I still feel guilty if I made him pay for the groceries I needed to make dinner. It's not his fault I wanted to make this recipe in particular.
"I see the cogs in your head turning," he says, "and I can only assume you're thinking of how intelligently right I am. So just admit it, and take the card."
"You have a point," I admit like he wanted me to and he smiles. "But no." The smile drops from his face.
"Oh come on," he pleads.
"No," I say, placing a quick kiss onto his cheek before straightening my back so I now stood normally.
Harry quickly jumps to his feet. "Fine. Then you can't take one of the cars."
"Fine," I mock his accent. "Then I'll get an Uber."
I turn on my heel to walk away, but immediately stop once I hear the sound of rapid footsteps. I turn back around to see Harry running toward me. Once he reaches me his arms wrap around mine, locking me in one of the tightest hugs I've ever received.
"What are you doing?" I ask, looking up at him. I tried to free one of my arms, but his grip was far too tight.
"You're not allowed to leave until you agree to take the card," he tells me, desperately trying to hide the smile on his face.
"Seriously?" I ask, rolling my eyes playfully.
"Yes seriously." He nods vigorously. "You know how easily I could put you on a plane and ship you back to Jess?"
"You would never do that," I say, a smirk playing on my lips.
"Not wrong," he says quickly, "but it's an option."
I stare up at him blankly, hoping it would somehow get me out of his death grip.
"Will you just take the goddamn card?" He asks once again with a roll of his eyes.
I mean, there's no harm in taking it, right? I don't actually have to use it.
"Yes," I agree finally and he lets me go. I follow him as he walks into the kitchen, grabbing his wallet off the countertop. He pulls out his card, holding it up between his middle and index finger.
He then walked to the front door, and I of course followed him, where my purse hung on a hook mounted on the wall. He reaches into my purse and pulled out my wallet before unzipping it and sliding his card inside. He places my wallet back into my purse and gives it a couple pats before handing it back to me with a grin.
"All set," he says.
"Keys?" I ask, the only other thing on my mind being the fact that I wasn't going to use his card.
"Oh right," he says walking around me before disappearing into the kitchen. He returns with a single car key dangling from his index finger. He holds it out for me and I gladly take it from him.
I say my goodbyes and thank yous before heading out the front door to drive to the grocery store.
* * *
I had a basket hanging from my arm, my eyes scanning the shelves for the kind of noodles I needed to make the recipe. I stepped back so my back was almost touching the aisle behind me, but I didn't see any farfalle noodles. Just as I was thinking I would have to settle for rigatoni or penne, I spotted a large box full of small bags of farfalle pasta. But get this, they were on the second to top shelf...far out of my reach.
With a sigh, I reach up, my height not being tall enough to reach the package of noodles. I step back down, frowning and looking up at the box helplessly. I try once again, stretching my arm as far as it could possibly extend, as well as stand up on my tiptoes. But just as I expected, the small boost wasn't quite enough for me to reach the stupid noodles. I let out a huff of frustration, touching my heels back to the ground and letting my arm fall back down to my side.
"Need some assistance?" I hear a deep voice speak up behind me, causing me to jump at the sound. I swiftly turn around, only to see a tall man standing behind me.
The man didn't seem too suspicious. He wasn't some scary old guy that smelled like cigarettes and looked like he just rolled out of bed. He was young, late 20's I'd guess, and looked clean and like he smelled really nice. He was too far away from me to actually get a whiff though. I was tempted to lean over and smell him.
I wasn't going to. But I was tempted.
"If you wouldn't mind," I say, stepping out of his way. He steps forward, reaches up and grabs the package off the shelf with ease, making my struggle look dramatic. He turns back around to face me, holding out the pasta.
"Thank you." I let out a sigh of relief, wrapping my hand around the end of the package that faced me. But the man didn't let go.
Slightly confused, I look up at him, only to find him already staring down at me. My eyes met his and that's when I noticed his eye color. Very very blue, a cyan color even. They were beautiful...I almost didn't want to look away.
The corner of the man's mouth turns up and he lets go, sending me stumbling back slightly, realizing I was still unintentionally pulling.
"Making some kind of pasta I see," he points out, the smirk still apparent on his face. I didn't even notice before, but his accent sounded different. Different from Harry's...different from Noah's, even. He sounded British, but at the same time, he didn't.
"Yeah," I say, taking a step back away from him, hoping he would get the hint that I didn't want to talk to him and would much rather leave.
"Early Valentine's Day dinner?" He asks. I take another step back, placing the package of noodles in the basket that dangled from my forearm.
"Nope, just making dinner." I flash him a kind smile as I take yet another step back, feeling uncomfortable with the fact that he was starting to ask questions. But I didn't want to be rude. I'm just someone who watches way too many crime TV shows to hold a conversation with a stranger. It had nothing to do with him.
I take another step back, and just when I expected him to ask another question, he nodded his head and looked down, the smirk dropping from his face. I used the silence as an opportunity to make a quick escape, not wanting to converse with him any longer.
And luckily, he stayed silent until I was all the way at the end of the aisle, turning the corner to head over to the produce.
After walking around for a minute, following overhead signs, I found the produce aisle where I would find the garlic and mushrooms. As I put a styrofoam plate of pre-packaged and wrapped mushrooms in my basket, I felt a presence approach me, then saw a tall body standing next to me. The man from the pasta aisle.
I froze and tried my best not to look over, but when I noticed he was staring down at the shelf of carrots in front of him for an uncomfortably long amount of time, I realized he wasn't standing there to make sure he bought the right kind of carrots.
"Can I help you?" I ask, turning to face him, hoping that addressing the situation would help the problem to be resolved.
"I'm sorry," he apologizes, shaking his head. His concentration facial expression cracks into a smile. He turns to face me, his bright blue eyes locking on my face. "I'm bad with confrontation." He brings a fist up to cover his mouth briefly as he clears his throat. He then continues to speak, but this time far more expressive with his hands. "I just find you very beautiful, and I was wondering if I could get your number and we could grab a bite sometime."
"That's very sweet of you to say," I say quickly and dismissively, the smile remaining on my face, "but I'm actually in a relationship at the moment."
"Ah, my bad." He nods, looking down as he stuffs his hands into the pockets of his black jeans. "Sorry to bother you then."
"It's alright." I shrug before turning on my heel, wanting to escape from him yet again. This conversation was even more awkward than the first, which made me far more desperate to get out of it.
I swiftly walked toward the checkout area to pay for everything, now that I had it all in my basket. The cashier rang everything up and gave me my total, and as I opened my wallet, I felt my shoulders slump. There Harry's card sat in the middle of my wallet.
I move it out of the way and pull my card out instead, deciding to pay with my money instead of his. I swipe my card, but the machine doesn't make the ding noise as it usually does. I furrow my eyebrows and look up at the cashier, as if it was her fault.
"Try that again," she says, furrowing her eyebrows in confusion as well. I swipe the card once again and it does the exact same thing, causing me to look back up at Amy, as her uniform badge read. "Is there another card you could try?"
I looked down at my wallet, which was still slightly open. I stare at Harry's card, debating on whether I should try my card again or use his.
If my card didn't work the first two times, it probably won't work a third, right?
Along with a sigh and a roll of my eyes, I pull Harry's black card out of my wallet and insert the chip into the card reader. It makes the confirmation ding and the cashier flashes me a smile. She prints the receipt as I pull the card out of the reader, slipping it back into my wallet.
I take the receipt from her, say a quick thank you, and carry the groceries out to Harry's car. Once I got to the car, I unlocked it and got in, setting the grocery bag on the floor below the front passenger's seat. I let out a sigh as I started the engine of the Range Rover.
Yes, you heard that right. Harry has two Range Rovers.
I maneuvered off the side of the street before driving down along the street. After driving for a minute or so, I stopped at a red light, and instinctively checked the rear view mirror. And when I did, I couldn't help but notice the car behind me had stopped insanely close. At first, I just figured they stopped later than planned and ended up really close to the bumper. But when the light turned green and I drove forward, their following distance remained the same.
I shook it off, assuming whoever was driving the dark blue SUV was just that kind of person who drove close to people for absolutely no reason. But they stayed really close behind me, and it was making me nervous, so to make myself feel better, I took the next left available, taking me down some random street. At first, I was pleased to see they were no longer behind me.
I let out a sigh and dropped my shoulders, letting the tension fade away. But now I didn't know where I was, so I needed to focus on the road ahead and find a way out, back to the main road. Luckily for me, the road led straight out to another main road. And as I was about to turn onto said road, I looked up into the rear view to see, of course, the blue SUV.
Although it made me nervous that it was very likely to be following me, I continued on. Maybe they were lost and didn't know where they were going...I mean, we all do that, don't we?
I drive along stopping at lights and listening to the radio. I saw a Tesco along the way, which pissed me off, since I could've gone there rather than going to that grocery store that was double the ways away from Harry's house.
I continued to check the rear view mirror, and the blue SUV was always there. When I knew I was getting close to Harry's house, I realized that the last thing I should do is pull into his house, in case the person following me knew I was with Harry, and was following me to find out where he lives. So I drive past his house, pulling into the parking lot of the inn near his house. There were other cars there, and a couple walking out to their car, so I felt a little safer.
The blue SUV didn't turn into the parking lot when I did, but I still held my breath. I waited 5 minutes to see if they would pull in, and they never did. Then I waited 5 more. Then 5 more. And once 20 minutes had passed, I decided the coast was clear and I could leave now.
I dialed up Harry's phone, bringing my cell phone to my ear.
"Hello?" He answers.
"Hey, could you open the driveway gate thingy?" I ask him.
"Of course," he says and I can hear shuffling around in the background. "Did you get lost? You've been gone for like over an hour."
"Not quite." I chuckle.
"Okay," he says and then is silent for a moment. "Alright, it's open."
"Thank you, I'll be home in like two seconds."
"Okay," he says and we say our goodbyes and hang up.
Although it was a 30 second drive from the inn to Harry's house, I made sure to be extra cautious while driving out of the parking lot, keeping an eye out for the blue SUV.
But I didn't see it.
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a/n: QUICK!! give me a song that reminds you of harry and lili (or just this story in general). [you can't say Adore You!!!]