2. Unexpected
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Harry sat in his car. He'd parked it outside her building. Drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, he stared straight ahead as he considered his situation. A week had passed since their blind date. He'd texted her the very next day in the afternoon to tell her how much he'd enjoyed it. She hadn't replied. He'd tried not to let it get to him, but Harry had tossed and turned restlessly in bed that night, constantly checking his phone. He couldn't get her out of his head. This had never happened before. And it was getting worse.
The following day, two days since their date, he'd decided to send a small bouquet of hot pink roses to her apartment complex. He'd texted Zayn to ask what her apartment number was. It made him feel a little desperate, but maybe he needed to be more obvious with his approach that he wanted to see her again. Maybe she'd thought his text had been too offhand and didn't think needed a reply. He checked his phone and read his text again:
Hey Charley! Hope you've recovered from your fall [winky face emoji] I had fun last night.
Harry considered it for the millionth time. He hadn't asked an outright question. Technically it hadn't requested a response. But he'd meant it to be flirtatious. Maybe she hadn't read it that way. He was beginning to question Charley being as into him as he'd assumed. His mind rebelled at the thought. Harry had been pretty sure she'd been just as hot for him as he'd been for her, but a week later, he was starting to doubt it.
Fast forward to today, a week since their date, to where he was now parked like a stalker outside her building. There hadn't been a response to the roses either. A whole week had gone by since seeing her, with no word from Charley. Harry now struggled to concentrate on his work; his mind was full of her smile, her kisses, the memories of her body pressed against his, the way she smelled, her sense of humour...her breasts against his chest... Christ, he thought, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. He needed to see her again. At least for closure. He'd thought the hot pink roses were a good choice -- not as heavy as red ones -- and he'd included a note with clear intent this time:
Charley -- roses too cheesy? Would love to see you again. Without the falling. (OK maybe a little falling). Harry
So here he was. Five days since the roses and a whole week since their date. Saturday night, parked like a creeper outside her home. He knew he should probably just give up, but her response to him on their date just couldn't make him think she was ghosting him. Something had happened. Part of him acknowledged he was hoping for any other scenario than harsh reality. Harry wished for the hundredth time he had asked Zayn if she was all right when he'd texted for her apartment number -- but at that stage he'd just thought he needed to be more assertive. Now he didn't want to seem desperate, so had held back from contacting Zayn again. His leg jiggled nervously and he glanced toward the building, as if she would walk out any second.
Just get out of the car, head up there and knock on her door. If she answers and tells you you're a creeper, at least you'll have your answer. Harry agonised a moment longer, then finally blew out a breath and stopped tapping his fingers. Without another thought, he got out and slammed the car door shut, locking it. He strode purposefully to the building, catching the door as another couple exited with lucky timing. They didn't give him a second glance. He headed to the trio of elevators, entered an empty one and tapped the fourth floor button and waited while the doors closed.
His reflection was all around him, the elevator's mirrored walls making him nervous. He gave his appearance a quick once over. It was an outfit he often favoured -- white v-neck t-shirt over black skinny jeans, black boots. His curly hair was basically styled -- he was never quite able to tame it -- and the glint of silver came from around his neck. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, scuffing his toe nervously on the rubber floor, then straightened as the elevator pinged and the doors opened. He stepped out cautiously, feeling like an intruder, and checked out the apartment numbers. Charley's apartment was 406, so he headed that way, his initially determined tread becoming less sure as he neared the door.
He came to a stop outside one of the white doors. It had a gold 406 screwed into it, and a peep hole below it. This was a nice complex. The apartment doors were far apart from each other, giving him the impression that the interiors were large. He raised his hand to knock, and hesitated. Suddenly, the door behind him opened, and he wheeled in surprise as he saw a girl rushing to lock her door behind her. She turned, jumped a little, obviously startled to see him, then gave him a friendly smile.
"Oh hi! If you're looking for Charley, you won't find her," she said, giving him a brief once-over. He hesitated, feeling like he'd been caught out. He didn't know what to say to that.
"She's not back until tomorrow," the girl continued, and started to swing her backpack over her shoulders, pushing her shoulder length red curls aside and making ready to leave.
Harry came to life. "Charley's not here?" The girl gave him a strange look, and he cringed. "Sorry -- I mean, has she been gone long? I've been trying to get hold of her for a week now."
She nodded. "That's about right. Last Sunday morning she got an emergency call -- one of her clients in Europe needed her to fly out immediately. Somewhere with no cell coverage, some small village, a shoot somewhere, I don't know. I haven't heard from her all week, either. Anyway, I'm watering the plants in her apartment while she's gone and taking her mail..." Her prattle slowed and she trailed off, narrowing her eyes at him. "Hey...are you Harry?"
Harry's whole body was flooding with relief and realisation as she'd ben talking. Charley hadn't been ignoring him at all! She wasn't even in the bloody country! At the sound of his name, he snapped his eyes up to the girls'. Had she recognised him? "Yes, I'm Harry," he said cautiously. Maybe Charley had mentioned him to her? Good or bad?
The red-head clapped her hands together and grinned. "The roses are from you then! I've tried to keep them nice, she's going to love them. They're dying a little bit though, can't be helped. Very sweet note. You were her blind date last week then," she smiled and gave him a sympathetic look. "You thought she was ignoring you?"
