Be Mine? || Harry Styles

Chapter 51

Chapter 51

Grace’s POV

Harry clasped my hand as we walked into the English wing. We rode the elevator up together and Harry looked nervous as he sat down on a bench down the hall from Professor Charlie’s office.

“Okay baby, I’ll just wait for you here. Just uh...text me if you need anything or…”

“It’s fine.” I whispered, pressing my lips to his.

He immediately kissed me back, his fingertips digging into my sides. I pulled away and pulled out my notebook from my backpack that Harry was holding. It was almost six. I was glad Harry was here to wait on me while I was in my appointment.

“I know. Go ahead, it’s almost six. I love you .” he told me.

“I love you too Harry. I don’t think I should be too long.” I said before kissing his forehead and walking down the hall.

I could see Professor Charlie’s light on in his office. The door was open. When I stepped around the corner, I saw him leaning over his desk, reading a book. He had a desk lamp pointed at the book and he was wearing his black rimmed glasses. I tapped lightly at his door and he looked up, closing his book.

“What are you reading?” I asked, the English major side of me coming out.

He held the novel up and I smiled. Who knew? Professor Charlie reads Wuthering Heights in his free time. Oh, do I love that novel. His office was the size of a small closet. His desk was crammed up against the wall and there was a bookshelf that reached to the ceiling taking up most of the space. A few of the titles jumped out of me and a smile grazed my lips.

“Please, sit.” He motioned to the stool beside his chair and I took a seat.

He marked his book with a number in the right hand page of his book and closed it.

“Why do you write in your book?” I asked, unable to hold my question back.

He smiled and looked up to where I was still standing in the doorway.

“It’s uh…stupid really. My mother died when I was six and it’s something she always did. She would mark her pages with numbers to help her get through the days in life and when she’d go back and reread a book, continue the numbers. I have a few first editions that I don’t do that with.” He chuckled.

I took a seat and Charlie turned around, his knees very close to mine. I looked down and bit the inside of my cheek, a nervous habit I’d developed.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing.”

“Look, answer me honestly. Do I make you nervous?”