A Harry Styles Imagine

All I wanted was some time to myself. It seemed as of late all there were ..were revisions and exams. No downtime. And the holidays just around the corner. Maybe that was what was stressing me out, and why I took out on my own, leaving mum with some bitter words to mull over and my little disaster to clean up in the kitchen.

Its hard to be nice, sometimes. I swear I must have been a feline in another life.

Well, things got better once I found my favorite shop. You, can get a cup a tea, a biscuit or two and hide in the stacks with a good mystery. That was the plan, anyway.

So yeah, I was settled. There was even wedding cake today, and I was alone with a good book. Of course, I now noticed I was in mum's coat she'd gotten out for her big bash with that bloke, Edward. I didn't take kindly too.

Perhaps I was jealous. Me Mum had a beau. But he was really a Beevus as far as I was concerned. Always wanting her to scratch his back at the oddest times. Wanting her to laugh at his idiotic jokes. Really, why would I want one, if they were like that?

I really wasn't friends with him. And I hated the thought of living with him and Mum. Especially, if he decided to watch the tele in his knickers. God, the thought made me scowl when I meant to immerse myself in the tales of some good Graham Greene.

So I really wasn't noticing much. Just me and the fat white cake, Brighton Rock and a tasty brew with milk and honey.

"Aye, is that really genuine?" Some asked.

"What?" I looked up to see this lanky beast eyeing my sweet.

"Is it really wedding cake?" His hair was in his eyes as he held on to his hat. Perhaps he thought of himself as the gentle sort. Well, he was no Harry Potter.

"How should I know?" I scowled. "Can't think of a soul around here, married."

"You really, dunno what true wedding cake is, is that it?" He was smug.

I seethed back and pushed my little china plate a bit toward him.

"May I?"

I pursed a look that said no, but that paid the bloke no mind. He went for it with his fingers. And licked the icing as if he might be doing naughty things.

"Show off." I sullenly fretted.

"Yeah, that's wedding cake." He nodded as if he was testing it right on his tongue.

I sighed, wondering when this misfit would find his own shop and his own wedding cake, but instead he puts his hat on the table.

"Hi, I'm Harry Styles." He offered me a handshake. I winced, shaking my head.

"No, thank you, very much." Were the last words I can get out because someone knew he was famous. Evidently.

That's when the black pillow cases went over our heads, and I went out kicking and screaming into the cold, against my will.

"Pssst...are you..all right, luv?" The whisper was such a hiss in the darkness.

There was silver tape over my mouth. I could barely blubber and that pillow case, still over my head.

"MMMMMM..."

"Sh.."

I sucked in a breath as my hands were tied in tape behind my back. I was certain, in a matter of time, my hands would be cut off. Didn't they know I was an artist by trade? Sure, I doodled for the most part, but I imagined one day to see my creative endeavors on the walls of Paris museums or the covers of some musician's albums, when the music world went vinyl, once again.

Now I was in a huff. I couldn't really stand up on my own.

Where in the f'n world..were we?

It smelled dank and a bit damp.

Jesus, they were going to kill us, weren't they?

Before I could get a good hold of keeping myself calm, off came the pillow case. There was Harry who ripped off the tape before I could even think to say NO.

God, did that hurt. I was certain he took off my lips, but they weren't bleeding.

I sighed.

"I bet they thought you were Emily." He brightly smiled, as if he'd figured it out.

"Who's Emily?" I wanted to yell, but he pressed his index finger on my upper lip,

"Emily Browning." He whispered.

Naturally, I thought of a poet, but no..that wasn't quite right. I winced.

"I'm really quite fond of her, but she isn't into boy bands. I know I can't win with her. She'd rather be with that indie bloke Olly."

"What?"

"Never mind. We need to get out of here." He looked to high ceilings. Naturally, the little widow was hardly enough room to get through..even if we could get that high.

"Damn." Harry kept eyeing the window. Yes, it did look hopeless. The walls were made of cement. It was dirty and old. Miserably old.

I made a face of disgust.

"You, do make me think of her." He looked over at me, as if he couldn't deny it.

"Well..is she your girl..or what?" I scowled trying to rid the sticky silver tape from my wrist.

"No. I hardly know her." He sighed. "She really hates crowds."

"Well, who doesn't?" I tilted my head thinking he really must miss a normal life.

"Me. I mean, I truly have to have a crowd." He nursed his bottom lip as if he was thinking he would die here if he didn't have a crowd. "What's the point? If there is no crowd to perform too." He shrugged.

"I guess." I was trying to see his point, but this sort of thing came along with the crowd. Idiots, you know. "How much do you think they'll get for you?"

I doubted I was worth much. Just my luck they'd take care of me as soon as they found us.

"Have you lost the plot?" He winced. Harry was definitely planning to get us out of here before any ransom was to take place.

He looked at my wrists and touched my pulse.

Damn, if he didn't make me feel so weak, but his kiss was sweet.

Unfortunately, the door rattled. It was too late for anything to commence. Instead, Harry elbowed some rocker under his chin. Then Harry held him down with his pointy toed boots. Harry was a bit of pick pocket. There he was with his own mobile from the rocker's back pocket. He had the police on the line, in no time.

I felt faint.

Jesus, he was my hero. And I so wanted to be his cheerleader even if I hadn't listened to his music.