HARRY E. STYLES
December, 2014

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Taking the time to visit the Christmas markets for the first time this year was one of the best decisions I have made recently. Although it was bitter cold, even with all the layers covering me up, I still found some joy in the hot and tasty mulled wine. Definitely one of my favourite things about Christmas. It warmed me from the inside, tingling my senses as I stopped here and there to check out what they were selling.

My luck seemed to be running low, however, because the moment I reached the cheese stand, the first thing that caught my attention was the witch. Then again, her loud cackle was the dead giveaway. Could hear that witch sound from miles away. There she stood, stuffing her mouth with all kinds of cheese, taking light sips of whatever she had in her mug. It was strange. Seeing her make conversation with one of the sellers. Never would've imagined her to do that.

Closing in on her, the lady smiled at me and welcomed me to the stand, offering one of the many kinds of cheese there was.

"Oh. Oh," I chuckled. "Wow. That's good."

"Right?" my mortal enemy grinned, looking at me as she drank from her cup. "Try that one with the cracker."

Giving in, I did what she said. The cheese was actually really good. I kept thinking of all the ways in which it could be put in a meal and it made me kind of excited to try it next time. The Christmas markets always inspired me, the range of food available, the smells and tastes, it gave me such a great canvas that it was actually fun to be outside. Food festivals were also great, perhaps the best place to be.

After a few more tries, I felt kind of sick. It was a lot to have in one go and so I found it best to say my goodbyes. Wasn't even sure how, but Griffin Walker ended up tagging along. Walking in silence, I had to break it by clearing my throat. From the corner of my eye, I saw her pull a face, kind of looking like she felt awkward.

"So," I said a little snappy, a little louder than expected.

"So," she echoed, squeezing a slight chuckle out of me. It had been merely hours since we last saw each other, the dinner being last night. It was definitely random and very strange because her cousin for sure scared the shit out of me. When she told me that it was him who wanted me over, I didn't even know how to react properly.

"I've been thinking..."

"And?"

"I've come to the conclusion that you and I are both alone for the time being. You claim I pretend to care whilst I argue that I do not. Perhaps we could spend the remaining of our days here, before going home for the holidays, so you could see for yourself."

"See what for myself?"

"That I do not pretend. That I am more than the image you painted of me in your brain," I suggested, mainly because lately, there was no proper human interaction in my life. Also, with my days off from work, I needed to do something, anything, that would prevent me from wondering about what my girlfriend was doing and whether or not the rumour could be true.

"Eh," she answered, not the biggest fan of the idea. Not that it was not expected. She was going to give me a hard time about this, that much was clear even before I presented the offer. "Not really sold, if I'm being honest."

Glancing down at the ground, my right foot came into view as I stepped. Like I thought, she was being hesitant about it. My aim was not to make friends or anything, either. Simply, I wanted to distract myself from everything that was happening until I'd be with family again. Perhaps going to the very person who reminded me most of my girlfriend was not a smart idea but when I really thought about it, it weirdly made sense. Griffin Walker on her own was a lot to deal with therefore leaving me no time to ponder over anything else than what was happening with her in that moment.

Sighing, I broadened the idea. "How about you add your terms and conditions?"

"Now that," she said, perked up at the sound of my question. "That's a splendid idea."

"Lay it on me."

"Don't ever say that to me again."

"No?"

"No," she shook her head.

"Okay," I mumbled. "Well, then... how would you make this idea of mine better?"

"What did you even have in mind? Other than you wanting to be in my wonderful company, of course."

"Never shy, are you?" I asked, only to receive a cocky smirk and a shrug of her shoulders, as though she indicated it's what she's best at. "Like I said... we are both alone for the time being. Might as well spend it together."

"No offence, buddy, but you're definitely not on the top of my 'people I want to hang out with' list," she hissed, looking at me with eyes that sold her act out, making me smile the faintest little curl as I realised she was being playful. Okay. Not a bad thing, right? Acting like civilised people. Yup. Brings back memories from the dinner we had when we ditched Nadine's event. Okay. Now maybe not so many great memories... wow. Sweet. Back to thinking about the girlfriend. Well done, Harry. "Oh, shit—what are you thinking about now?"

"What?" I asked, zoning out for a short moment.

"You looked like you saw a ghost. Which wouldn't surprise me. You do give me the vibes."

"What vibes?"

"The weirdo vibes," she snorted and I gasped, looking at her with a fake, offended face. "Bet you stare into the dark and imagine ghosts there. Curling into your blanket and hiding under it in hopes of them not getting to you. Especially now that Nadine is not here to keep you safe from them."

"What are you drinking?" I laughed as I glanced at her mug. "Let me have some of it."

"Are you denying it?"

"Absolutely!" I continued to chuckle, finding it genuinely amusing that she'd think that about me. "If you really want to know about my sleeping habits... well, I pass out the second I get home from work. Got no time to imagine ghosts."

"Ah, right—bartender Harry. How could I forget?" she sighed. "Everyone is all over you every night, right? Imagine having to live through the constant flirting... must be tiring."

"It's actually not that bad," Griffin hummed in response. It was difficult to figure out if it was an 'I believe you' or 'I don't believe you' hum, though. "Hold on a second... do you think I'm hot?"

She pretty much choked on her drink as the question fell from my lips, catching her off guard completely. The fact that she assumed girls would be all over me, purely because I sell drinks at a night club, was pretty much her admitting that she thought I was attractive. Right? Without sounding like I'm totally full of myself. That's how it sounded to me. Sure, it took me a minute to realise that but I did.

"Do I need to remind you that I have standards?" she questioned, fighting off the illusion I painted for us. My smirk only grew as she denied it. Now, I had something to tease her about and whilst that was certainly something I've only done with people I've considered friends, this moment alone didn't need to be so over-thought.

"Do I need to remind you that you've been through majority of the lads at uni?"

"Eh. You're not as up to date as you'd like to think you are," she smirked.

"Oh?"

"Yep."

"So, you've branched out?" she hummed, seeming proud of the fact that she managed to shock me with this. "Well, that's certainly working in your favour. You know... feeding into your idea of having standards and whatnot."

"You're making fun of me."

"Never!" I replied with a very serious tone of voice. The last time we had this conversation, I fell right through her little act. When she made me believe my words hurt her, for a second, I genuinely thought that it upset her. Then of course she laughed it off which made me feel like the biggest fool in the whole world.

"Get off my dick," she pushed me and I looked at her surprised. She did not! Why was she being friendly to me? Shoving me like we were mates? She was taking this 'buddy' thing very seriously, it seemed. For someone who was so against being in my company? Oh, definitely.

"But you think I'm hot, don't you?" I pushed the question some more, finding odd satisfaction in the way she burned up from the inside, feeling more and more irritated at the fact that she couldn't change my mind about this.

"Stop fishing for compliments!" she exclaimed, stepping a little closer to me when people were walking past us. Today wasn't a bad day to visit the markets, with it being on for a while now, then again, there never was a time when it was quiet.

"So, tell me then—why do I not fit your standards? Hm?"

Griffin gave me a disgusted look, kind of like she couldn't figure out why I'd even ask that question. In all fairness, my aim was to see how far she could be pushed until she leaves me there but then thinking some more about it, I just wanted to see if we could get along the way we did in Wetherspoons. The only beverage we had was mulled wine, still better than nothing.

"You're taken. You're possibly the cockiest person I have ever met. Looking at your face would only remind me of my best friend," she began to list some things, none of which seemed to be general rules, more so appointed at why she wouldn't get with me. That thought gave me the creeps. Why would I even want to know if she'd want to have sex with me? This was just as weird as that bloody nightmare I've had where Nadine's face morphed into hers... great.

I now couldn't stop thinking about it and feeling weirder by the second.

"Shall I continue?"

"Nope," I shook my head. I wanted to say I was waiting for a little more generalised set of rules but what she gave me was enough to understand she wouldn't even poke me with a stick. "No, thank you very much."

After a while of just us walking—which was very nice, being in silence with her was better than when we were actually talking—she sighed in a way that was kind of indicating that she wanted to say something. When she remained quiet, I had to realise that it meant nothing: she was simply very expressive.

"Do you have a favourite cheese?" she asked me randomly. Needless to say, it caught me off guard.

"Are you kidding? There are over a thousand different kinds."

"Okay—what was your favourite from the stand?"

"Why do you want to know?" I asked. "Are you trying to analyse me through my favourite cheese?"

"Can you not just answer the bloody question?" she glared at me and it made me laugh. More than likely, she was trying to stir the conversation away from the fact that she thought I was hot.

"Camembert. Yours?"

"I'm not picky. I love cheese," she shrugged.

"Okay but what is your favourite?"

"Mozzarella. It's just so... versatile. You can flavour it however you want because essentially, it's a plain field. Not to mention that it's great with pasta, with pizza—on top or inside of literally anything," I listened carefully to what she said, finding it all true. If I would've had to analyse the food itself, I knew that it was a firm but creamy cheese which would've indicated that whilst Griffin Walker is a tough little shit on the outside, she is ever so delicate on the inside. Not that that could've been true. In my humble opinion, she couldn't have been farther from that description.

"Didn't know you knew so much about cheese," I smirked.

"I don't," she scoffed. "I just like to eat."

"Fair enough," I hummed. "So, what does your analysis say about me, then? Who do you think I am, based on my liking of Camembert?"

"Camembert is like that other one, isn't it?" she asked. "Brie, I think?"

"Not quite," I responded, drinking a little from my wine. It was still nice and warm, giving me a hug from the inside. "Whilst they are both made from cow's milk, are soft-ripening and covered by a white coating, they are definitely not alike. Brie has added cream but Camembert does not and that makes Brie 60% milk fat whereas Camembert is only 45. Also, Brie is a little less stronger in taste, more buttery and creamy, slightly runnier than Camembert which is more intense in flavour, a lot more earthy notes in there, too. And not as soft."

"Well, shit. Hit me with the facts, why don't you?" she chuckled though seeming impressed. Which was definitely a first. My friends usually told me to shut the fuck up or laughed it off when I went a little food-smart on them. It often made me feel a little uncomfortable but never showed or voiced it because I found it pointless. The fact that Griffin Walker of all people was astonished was a little amusing to me.

"Sorry," I said shyly.

"No, hey, don't be," she shrugged. "How do you know so much about it, anyway?"

"I enjoy cooking. It's kind of like my thing, I guess," I said. It gave me giddy vibes to be talking about this. A topic that brought me a little joy was much better than talking about her one-night stands. Then again, that might have been her happy topic so I couldn't really slag it off.

"Next big Gordon Ramsey, hey?" she teased me, earning a chuckle from me. It came from the chest, genuinely making me laugh. That definitely was not the first time someone said it to me yet somehow, coming from her, it was more entertaining. "What else do you know, then?"

"About cheese?"

She shrugged. "Sure."

"Have you ever heard of a cheese called Pule?"

"Sounds like it would stink."

"Well, I'm not sure how it smells but it's the most expensive that exists," I mentioned. "It's made from donkey milk which is actually known to be more nutritious than cow's milk. They only produce this in Serbia and you can only buy it from the farm where they make it."

"Wait, how much is it?"

"I believe they sell it a thousand euros for every pound which would be roughly... uh, that's around eight-hundred... almost nine-hundred pounds for us."

"For a wee bit of a cheese?" she looked at me like I was mad for even saying that. It was quite extraordinary but then again, it was something completely unique and different. Of course, it would cost so much. It's kind of like a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

"Oh, and it has a rich, nutty and earthy flavour to it," I added. "I've never tried it myself since I've never been to Serbia but based on what people say, it's really good."

From then on we talked some more about cheese, mostly about what kind of wine to pair the food with. I tried to make it sound as easy as possible, though the more immersed I got in the topic, the more it felt like Griffin got lost. She didn't bother to slow me down, though, almost as lost in the whole world as myself. It was kind of refreshing to just talk and be heard. She was quite engaging as well, asking me questions and giving me her famous reactions.

The rest of our day also went quite well. Something that came to my attention when we hung out was that no matter what happened a day prior, we kind of just left it in the past. Our arguments were kind of over the board, anyway and definitely silly so it made sense that we didn't dwell on it for a long time. As I thought about that, we ended up at a little restaurant since we got quite hungry from all the food talk. There, she made sure to put me on the spot as she forced me to rate the meal once we finished.

Much to my surprise, I found myself enjoying the time we spent together. As much as I should've hated the thought of that, I could not. In fact, whenever I tried to tie negative feelings to the experience, I found myself thinking about other negative things. Things that I needed distraction from in the first place. Hence, I let myself just be and go with the flow.

"The bread was quite nice, the crunchy outside but the soft inside was perfect. The sausage was still hot and very well flavoured, going well with the condiments and dried onion, the pickle and the cheese, also," I gave the commentary once we finished the hot dogs we both had.

"I love mustard so I personally felt like they could've added more," she critiqued with a serious look on her face. "Also, it was quite difficult to take a bite, making me look a little piggy whilst eating. Nevertheless, I'd rate it a solid seven out of ten."

"Harsh," I nodded. "But yes, I can see where you are coming from. I'd rate it a six and a half out of ten. I enjoyed the flavours and the textures, the sauce could've been a little more, I agree. The overall experience was great, also. Though, definitely had better."

By the time we finished with the rather strong opinions on the meal, we couldn't hold the laughter back. Almost as if it wasn't Griffin Walker before me, the moment felt genuine and quite nice.

My tongue tucked under my top lip before I spoke, I leaned back in my chair. "You know... there are some fantastic places in London with some of the best food but they lack the popularity."

"That's what makes them so good, though. Hidden places always have the best food," she spoke. "When I was away on work placement with my college course, we had some free-time in the town we stayed in so we went on a little exploring mission. I've had the best wrap there, I think."

"Really?" I raised my eyebrows curiously, nodding a couple of times as she drank from her glass. "Where was it?"

"Holland."

"Ah, right," I said. "Never been to Holland, actually. Adrian had his birthday there last year but I was pretty sick so had to cancel last minute."

"Oh, yeah. Nads told me all about that," she sighed. There was the mention of her name again. Bloody hell. This was more difficult than I ever imagined it could be. "She was proper fuming, wasn't she? Well, she was to me, at least."

"No, she was fine with me... why was she mad?" I leaned on the table, furrowing my eyebrows as I felt a little weird thinking about it. Why would she be mad, simply if I fell ill before a trip? And most importantly, why would she be fuming about it behind my back?

"Can't really remember," Griffin mentioned. "I just know she was upset but then she got over it rather fast. I mean, you've seen some of the photos of them, completely out of their minds."

"Yeah... felt quite left out, actually," I revealed which made the conversation end awkwardly. Griffin definitely did not care and not even I knew why that came out of my mouth. Getting deep and personal with her wasn't my intention, it kind of just happened. "Anyways," I sighed. "You done?"

"Yeah, stuffed," she replied, pressing the back of her hand to her mouth before she stretched a little. "Should probably get home."

"No offence, but what are you gonna do home alone?"

"Now, that's not any of your business, is it?" she gave me the sarcastic reply and in return, I rolled my eyes. Shouldn't have expected her to tell me.

"Can you not just answer the bloody question?" I changed my voice to a whinier one, copying the question she asked me before. The look in her eyes was deadly, the breath in my throat hitching as she finally exhaled and probably worked on a great snap back. It was hard not to laugh at her. Always the dramatic little witch.

In the end, all she said was, "Anyways," before she excused herself to go to the toilet.