[ASTRID REESE]
London, England

★ ★ ★

Astrid never had a dream or a life planned for herself. All she knew was the end goal. Success. A life without worry. That's all. Nothing else mattered to her. As long as she felt safe and secure with the necessities, and some luxuries on the side, she believed she would be okay. She could survive. And she has been surviving. With enough money in her bank, she felt taken care of, all by herself, and that was more than fine with her. All of her responsibilities were under control and she felt sure of the person she became.

Over the course of her life journey, she figured she wanted to help other people feel that kind of contentment in some way or another. Looking back on her past, she found she mostly worked in environments where it fell to be her responsibility to take care of customers. She gained enough experience by working in hospitality and retail, a couple of years completed in a pharmacy, and her job before her current role, where she was titled as an 'Events Assistant'. All of that combined, plus some really old ideas from when she was in her late teens, she made the move to become a wedding planner. The job allowed her to be a part of something special because she got to work directly with couples in order to help make their dream day come to life.

With all that being said, Fridays usually led Astrid straight to the pub. Even if she sat alone, chatting away to the bartenders. Enough time and encouragement from the alcohol to let go of some of the steam she could never seem to get rid of before, it worked like her own special little therapy session. Although, she supposed, it also made for a great way to meet people because, to the staff, she was a regular. The moment they saw her come through the door, a glass of liquid happiness awaited her arrival.

The familiar smell of the establishment filled Astrid's lungs as her hands pushed the main door open with ease, one foot placed in front of the other with sure, aimed steps to bring her closer to the row of leather, high bar seats. Today had been a calm day for her—which didn't happen a lot on Fridays—and her casual outfit gave that away. That meant she wore trainers—with a pair of her most professional looking, high-waisted pair of black jeans, a crisp white t-shirt and a black blazer on top to keep her somewhat warm—so the entire bottom of her shoes were sticking to the floor. One of the things she despised about the place, but nothing could be done about it. She asked, as one with a large mouth would do, very early on and she was told the place gets cleaned regularly. Now, although it still made her sigh with a small distaste, it also brought her a sense of comfort.

"Right on time, are we?" Astrid heard the comment from the bartender, who happened to be busy cleaning off the segment between the two of them. With a surprised chuckle, Astrid checked the time on her watch, only find she made it over at the exact same time she had arrived previously. Removing the glasses from her face, she gently rested it on top of her head, hooked behind her ears but never ruining the perfectly combed low-bun she assembled for work that morning.

"Jack," she called his name playfully, both of them smiling as she sat down properly and he placed the drink in front of her. "That looks pretty," she said, picking up the glass and turning it around and about to examine it properly. "What's in this?"

"Try it and let me know. Gotta serve the gents over there," he nodded behind her but she paid no attention to the customers. The drink in her hands, green on the bottom, white in the middle, then purple and blue on the top, made her more than excited to draw the straw into her mouth and get a good sip of it.

And then she tasted it.

Mint.

Fucking mint.

Astrid almost choked on the drink as she cupped her mouth with her right hand and nearly slammed the glass down on the bar top. The flavour hit her out of nowhere and she gagged as the sweet yet refreshing tastes mixed because she hated mint. If there was one thing she could not stand, it had to be mint. Mint belonged in chewing gums, and toothpaste, floss, mouthwash. It did not belong in foods or drinks or desserts or any of the sort one would digest.

Using the napkin from beneath the glass, she went to reach for a couple more from behind the bar as she heard someone say, "Can't be that bad, can it?" so she had no choice but to glance to the side quickly. Leaned on the bar, standing on her tiptoes, she was bound to have another near-choke experience as she decided to double take. Frozen in place.

"No fucking way."

"Catching you stealing is not how I imagined to meet you," said the man as he remained sitting by her side.

"So, you imagined us meeting?" Astrid asked back right away, feeling some sort of excitement wash through her at the thought of her plan becoming ten times easier. All she needed was the smallest taste of interest from the doctor to be sure she could go through with this and get it done successfully. The faster she gets in the good graces of this man, the easier it will be for her to wound up in the same environment as Derek.

Because this was the doctor from Instagram. Harry Styles. In the flesh.

"Too desperate?"

"More intriguing," she said, finally sitting back down with the extra napkins held tightly in her left hand. While she wiped her palm, she cleared her throat and refused to look up. How was this happening? How did this man end up at her comfort bar? She's never seen him there before and she wouldn't have ever thought someone like him would visit a place like that.

A doctor in a pub?

No way.

"Well, I'm Harry," he stated, putting his hand out between them. "It's nice to meet you...?"

Astrid looked at his stretched-out arm, laughed and stated, "You know my name."

"I know your username."

"That is my name," she reiterated.

"You don't meet people often, do you?" Harry wondered with a slight tilt of his head.

"I meet people for a living. Cut me some slack," Astrid answered with a little edge to her voice, forcing a laugh at the end. Hovering over her drink, she lifted the straw from the cup and only dipped it in the top half. Tasting the purple and blue parts, she could actually figure the drink had a vodka base. "Besides, it seems like you're the one who doesn't meet people often."

"Because?"

"You don't just creep up on someone like that. Nearly choked to death, didn't I?"

"'Suppose you're right," he nodded along as Astrid glanced in his direction. Kind of like he felt her attention shift, she now looked right into his eyes which left her with no other option but to tilt her head and keep the staring competition going. "What?"

"What?"

"Why are you looking at me like that?" he asked.

"Why are you?"

"Because you are."

"So, look away," she challenged and it immediately ignited something in him. She saw it happen. Mostly comparable to a switch being flicked, his pupils dilated and somehow, Astrid could tell his eyes were green.

"Make me."

Astrid cringed and it happened in the form of an uncomfortable laugh. "Does that actually work? Ever?"

"Not with you, I presume," he smiled, then his eyes finally peered to the side. Astrid turned her own head in his line of vision, only to find he spotted the glass of... whatever it was that the bartender made her. They often used the woman for their trials for new possible drinks and she loved it because it meant free goodies. And Astrid Reese lived for free things. "Gonna drink that?"

"Why? Do you want to drink it?" raising one eyebrow in question, Astrid leaned on her left elbow, gently holding her head up beneath her chin.

"Can I?"

Astrid hummed, asking, "Can you?"

"Do you make people's lives difficult as your personal hobby or is this you flirting?"

"Depends," she shrugged. "Do you want me to flirt with you?"

"I will not be justifying that question with an answer," he gave the response, along with a little wink whilst he reached for the glass of colourful beverage. Astrid followed the movement of his hand, fingers decorated with rings that somehow seemed to belong there, right until the mouth of the glass touched his lips.

This man had to be ten times more attractive in person than he seemed online. People never look the same as they do on digital pictures. Astrid looked nothing like she did on her Instagram. That's the one place where humans are perfect. It's entirely because they have full control of altering their looks, highlighting their attractive features and angles. There was nothing wrong with that—other than the blatant fact that it set people up majorly. Too many judgemental humans walked this planet for that not to be the case. Astrid could pretend like she wasn't one of those individuals, but deep down inside of her, at the very core of her being, she knew she was just as opinionated as the next person.

Still, her point remained. Harry Styles appeared to be so much more handsome than those bloody Instagram pictures led her to believe.

"How did you find me here?"

Placing the glass onto the bar top with a sigh after tasting the cocktail, Harry rolled his lips into his mouth. Then licked them and it left a little ticking noise behind as his tongue touched the roof of his mouth.

And Astrid followed every little movement carefully, like she would lose if she managed to miss something. Or worse—the sky would split open so the universe could swallow everything into the darkness. Perhaps that's why she almost missed the little, "I'm sorry?" coming from the doctor.

"Is it the mint?" Astrid asked.

"Huh?"

"It was the mint for me," she continued, nodding, as she established that his incapability of hearing her properly therefore not being able to answer her, came from the taste of the mint. It had to be, right? No sane person would enjoy a drink like that.

"No, the, uh, the mint is... fine," he chuckled. "And to answer your previous question about finding you here—well, I didn't know."

A little shocked but showing it a lot more exaggerated, Astrid's jaw fell as she asked, "You like mint?"

"I—I don't know how to... answer that," he laughed lightly, itching the underside of his nose then curled his index finger and pressed it against his chin, elbow sharply on the bar top.

"Well, how did you find me, then?" she questioned him further because saying anything was better than nothing. Astrid couldn't deal with awkward silence.

And it felt incredibly awkward to sit there with Harry Styles and not know how to make this work. Knowing she had to make it work, put so much more pressure on her to keep it going.

"Would you believe me if I said this is all a great coincidence?"

"Once again, depends," she shrugged. "Is it a good coincidence or a bad coincidence?"

"Definitely a surprising coincidence."

"Okay," nodding as the one worded response began to disperse between them. "Are you taken?"

Harry reached for the glass again and took a sip to say, "I am most certainly taken with you," while looking down at his index finger running around the rim of the glass, then back up at her from beneath his lashes.

Because Astrid sat close enough to see his lashes.

And he most certainly liked mint. He went back for a second taste of the drink. Not too sure how Astrid felt about this.

"You've met me five minutes ago," she smiled while lifting the sunglasses off of her head. She then folded the sides and hid the accessory in her bag. Jack, the bartender, walked back behind the bar and glanced between the two of them.

There was a knowing look in his eyes and it made Astrid roll hers because she noticed.

"Sure," Harry spoke up again and it caught Reese's attention immediately. "I met you five minutes ago. In person."

"Are you suggesting you stalked my social media?"

"I did have a little wander, yeah," he nodded, grinning from ear to ear, surprising Astrid because he seemed genuine and slightly rosy cheeked.

"So, you think you know me now?" she teased him and readjusted her posture. She turned around on the chair, lifting her right leg over the left, then intertwined her fingers so she could rest her hands on her knee.

"I would like to know you, yes."

She laughed. Astrid laughed because how was this her life? How was this insanely hot man sitting across from her, charming her fucking underwear off like he had no business? She couldn't wrap her head around it and so the question fell from her lips with ease, "How are you single?"

Instead of a reply, Astrid remained ignored because Harry decided to order himself a drink.

That's when she really noticed him. In all his glory. Facial hair and tired eyes begging for some rest, skin so clear she wondered if he peeled it off every night and washed it on a special setting built into his very own washing machine. The black hoodie he wore smelled of a perfume she could immediately put her finger on because she owned the very same one. Just the thought caused her to smile but hide the gesture as she twisted her hand and weighed on her elbow, the heel of her palm touching the underneath of her nose.

Don't fall for him.

Don't fall for him.

Don't fall for him.

Perhaps it was too early on. Perhaps the two would go nowhere and, in the end, her precious plan would slip right through her perfectly manicured hands. But she knew herself enough to be aware of the feelings swarming in her chest. Very much to her dismay, this man turned out to be a lot more charming than she hoped him to be and that immediately complicated things for her.

"Do I know you from somewhere?" Harry asked her and it felt like the question came out of nowhere. Astrid inhaled a breath of fresh air and cleared her throat as she exhaled, recomposing herself to answer the doctor.

"I'm afraid I can't answer that question for you," she said, telling him cryptically that they have never met before. Not to her knowledge, anyway.

"Hmm-mhm," he concluded, nodding his head gently. Served by Jack, it appeared Harry went for a glass of whiskey which revealed a lot about him to her. For one, she knew that anyone who willingly ordered whiskey is bound to be rather opinionated and slightly self-centred but in a way that indicates their head is tightly screwed on and they know what they want in life. Based on his choice of beverage, and the fact that his Instagram could've easily passed for one of those aesthetically pleasing accounts, she made the assumption that he is probably a person who finds beauty in things and takes his time to appreciate everything. "Well, finding you here must mean something, right?"

"Does it have to mean anything?" she wondered. "Are you one of those people?"

"Not necessarily. It can remain a surprising coincidence."

"Well, alright then, Dr Styles."

"It's, uh, it's Mr Styles."

"Aren't you a doctor?"

"A surgeon," he corrected her, a satisfied smirk plastered across his devilishly handsome face. Astrid could do nothing but think about how sexy this man was. It had to be the facial hair for her, she thought. It made him look incredibly inviting and she realised she had to take a step back. "We're usually referred to as Mr, Mrs, Miss—not Dr."

"But in medical shows—," Astrid let her genuine thoughts surface with furrowed brows and it earned her a little laugh from Harry. Did she really say that out loud? Holy fuck.

"Yes, well," he sighed. "It's different here than there."

"Right, of course," she laughed with burning cheeks. She felt them burn. Horribly. "So, a surgeon, then. How's—how's that? Must be tough work."

But why did she ask that? When did Astrid Reese become so bloody awkward? She could barely recognise herself in that moment. Not one part of her cared about his job. Not one little, teeny-tiny bit. But anything to bring her plan to life, right?

"It can be, yes," Harry answered her anyway and she found that to be the perfect time to twist back around and face the bar. "Oh, I—I didn't even ask if you wanted a drink before."

"Hm?" glancing at him then down at his glass, she gently shook her head, smiling, as she said, "It's fine."

"Would you like anything?"

For some reason, the way he acted with her threw her off her game. Could he really have taken a liking to her? Because Astrid thought that to be insane. On the other hand, if she could pull someone like Harry Styles, after she was caged with someone like Derek Molyneux for three years, then damn... maybe she still has something to offer, right? It wasn't even that she lacked confidence because she knew she was pretty if she put the effort in. But Harry Styles felt so fucking out of her league.

In the end, she gave in.

Astrid Reese gave in.

She let the man buy her a drink—a vodka martini with four olives because each one had to have a pair—and forgot about the rest of the pub as he shamelessly continued flirting with her. Leaning on the bar and watching her with his head tilted, smirking or smiling or laughing whenever she said something she wasn't even meant to say. And let's not mention the subtle touches he initiated, fingers hovering over the back of Astrid's hand, their knees touching here and there. At one particular point he decided to stand slightly behind her, chest pressed to her left shoulder as he pinched a couple more napkins from the bar.

"Stealing napkins, huh?" Astrid teased him and smiled as he lowered back down onto his seat. Harry glanced at her for a second, chuckling, as he cleaned up the spilled drink.

"Saw this gorgeous woman do it once," he started and Astrid scoffed, almost like it was a reflex. Harry continued, though. "I couldn't stop myself from trying, you know? Experience the adrenaline rush she must have felt."

"She sounds scandalous."

"Oh, you have no idea," he winked at her and Astrid knew this was going to be hard. So extremely hard for her to not jump into this man's bed by the end of the night. 

★ ★ ★

[A.N.]

[Chapter 2 brought Harry to you in a slightly different light. The flirting... it ended me, and I was the one writing it. They are definitely comfortable with each other right off the bat, they just have that chemistry and that rightness about them, don't they?] 

[As always, your votes and comments are very much appreciated. Thank you!]

[With love, B.]