Harry opens the passenger door to the black Audi SUV, and I clamber in. It’s a beast of a car. He hasn’t mentioned the outburst of passion that exploded in the elevator. Should I? Should we talk about it or pretend that it didn’t happen? It hardly seems real, my first proper no-holds-barred kiss. As time ticks on, I assign it mythical, Arthurian legend, Lost City of Atlantis status. It never happened, it never existed. Perhaps I imagined it all. No. I touch my lips, swollen from his kiss. It definitely happened. I am a changed man. I want this man, desperately, and he wanted me.
I glance at him. Harry is his usual polite, slightly distant self.
How confusing.
He starts the engine and reverses out of his space in the parking lot. He switches on the MP3 player. The car interior is filled with the sweetest, most magical music of two women singing. Oh wow… all my senses are in disarray, so this is doubly affecting. It sends delicious shivers up my spine. Harry pulls out on to Wilmslow Road, and he drives with easy, lazy confidence.
“What are we listening to?”
“It’s the Flower Duet by Delibes, from the opera Lakmé. Do you like it?”
“Harry, it’s wonderful.”
“It is, isn’t it?” he grins, glancing at me. And for a fleeting moment, he seems his age; young, carefree, and heart-stoppingly beautiful. Is this the key to him? Music? I sit and listen to the angelic voices, teasing and seducing me.
“Can I hear that again?”
“Of course.” Harry pushes a button, and the music is caressing me once more. It’s a gentle, slow, sweet, and sure assault on my aural senses.
“You like classical music?” I ask, hoping for a rare insight into his personal preferences.
“My taste is eclectic, Louis, everything from Thomas Tallis to the Kings of Leon. It depends on my mood. You?”
“Me too. Though I don’t know who Thomas Tallis is.”
He turns and gazes at me briefly before his eyes are back on the road.
“I’ll play it for you sometime. He’s a sixteenth century British composer. Tudor, church choral music.” Harry grins at me. “Sounds very esoteric, I know, but it’s also magical, Louis.”
He presses a button, and the Kings of Leon start singing. Hmm… this I know. Sex on Fire. How appropriate. The music is interrupted by the sound of a mobile phone ringing over the MP3 speakers. Harry hits a button on the steering wheel.
“Styles,” he snaps. He’s so brusque.
“Mr. Styles, it’s Welch here. I have the information you require.” A rasping, disembodied voice comes over the speakers.
“Good. Email it to me. Anything to add?”
“No sir.”
He presses the button, then the call ceases and the music is back. No goodbye or thanks. I’m so glad that I never seriously entertained the thought of working for him. I shudder at the very idea. He’s just too controlling and cold with his employees. The music cuts off again for the phone.
YOU ARE READING
50 shades of Styles
Fanfiction[Copied version] When literature student Louis Tomlinson goes to interview young entrepreneur Harry Styles, he encounters a man who is beautiful, brilliant and intimidating. The unworldly, innocent Louis is startled to realize he wants this man and...
