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Lunch rolled around far quicker than I expected, the bell ringing to signal our dismissal. I stood up, grabbed my bag and headed straight for my locker to dump it.

I slammed the door shut, and behind the frame I immediately caught sight of a head of brown curls, a black bandana pushing them back.

"Fuck me, you scared the shit out of me," I exclaimed, putting my hand over my chest to emphasise my shock as I reached over to shove his chest, "you dick!"

"Aw, come on, Ana, at least buy me dinner first," Harry grinned down at me, raising his hands playfully.

"What do you want?" I laughed, shoving my phone in my back pocket.

"I want to go somewhere, and I want to do something. So, come on."

"I can't ditch again."

"Of course you can," Harry frowned, "what's stopping you?"

I bit my lip, "Sadie isn't exactly over yesterday/"

"Fuck Sadie," he shrugged, running a hand through his hair.

I sighed, swinging my locker back open and grabbing my bag, "You're a bad influence, Harry Styles."

"Then let me corrupt you," his playful smirk spread across his face, swiping his tongue across his bottom lip as he now slammed my locker shut, "let's go."

"Where to?"

"I'll figure it out," he shrugged, leading me through the doors and out onto the street. To my surprise, he waited for me to catch up with him this time - Harry seemed to constantly storm off ahead and leave me to follow him - but now we walked beside each other - his quick paces becoming shorter.

"Take me back to that bookstore," I told him, his eyes darting to look at me.

"You like it there?" he raised his eyebrows.

I nodded, watching the smile grow on his face though he tried to hide it as we walked down the street, soon turning the corner to the bookstore.

Harry rested his hand on the small of my back once more, this time his hand lingering as we reached the terrace, his spare hand reaching to grab two books on the way out.

I sat down in the same chair as I had the day before, Harry doing the same as he handed me back Pride and Prejudice.

I recalled how Harry had snatched it from me yesterday, "I don't know where I-"

"Page 87," he answered immediately, staring down at his own book in his hands, lifting the cover to reveal the first page.

I found myself easily lost in the book once more, constantly encouraging me to wonder why I'd never wanted to pick it up sooner. The words immediately weaved their way into my mind; I was captivated.

It was only when I managed to tear my eyes from the page that I noticed Harry, equally as emerged into his own story - I found myself staring at him as he read - his green eyes carefully scanning the pages, studying every word as he read it. His face was erased of any smirk or grin you'd often find upon it - all it held was concentration. His bottom lip stuck out slightly, his tongue poking from the corner of his mouth, his mouth only slightly forming the silent words he observed, his eyebrows resting in their natural state - for once, not raised in judgement.

"Quit staring, Levin," his voice startled me, and I forced myself to look back down at my book, playing it off as if I hadn't just observed him for a solid five minutes.

"I wasn't," I mumbled, flicking the page of my book.

"Don't lie," I could hear the smirk in his voice as he spoke, and I rolled my eyes.

"Don't flatter yourself," I retorted, sending him a wide grin and receiving a small one in return.

"I still want to know more about you, Ana," he said, placing down his book and leaning back in his chair.

"Then tell me what you want to know," I shrugged, copying his action.

"Favourite colour?" he asked, eyeing me carefully.

"Blue."

"Oh, please, that's so mediocre," he teased, running a hand through his curls.

"It is not!" I protested, "What's yours?"

"I don't have one," he shook his head, and I rolled my eyes.

"So I'm mediocre for liking blue, but you don't have a favourite and suddenly you're special?" I laughed, nudging his knee with my foot.

"Shut up," he grinned, biting down on his bottom lip, "Middle name?"

"Grace," I answered, "You?"

"Edward." Harry Edward Styles. "Favorite animal?"

"Dogs," I pouted, "I've always wanted a dog so badly."

"It's not like you can't afford one."

I ignored his comment, "My mother doesn't allow them - she thinks they're - and I quote - 'abominable'."

"Abominable?" I watched an amused expression spread across his face.

"She thinks they're shit," I clarified, watching him burst out laughing.

"Dogs are brilliant," he laughed, and I couldn't help but watch him as his laughter filled the small space between us, "you're missing out."

"You have one?"

"I used to. Two. They were strays, and they fucking worshipped me."

"Strays? Must be something you have in common."

"But I can't be tamed," Harry grinned again, and I cringed.

"You're really something," I watched him grab a cigarette from his pocket and light it.

"Mm, at least I'm not boring," he hummed with a chukle, taking a drag from his cigarette.

"Eh, you're not the most entertaining," I teased him, and he gasped mockingly.

"Take that back, rich girl."

"Make me, dickhead."

His eyes studied me further, not leaving my face. His gaze finally met mine, and I tried to search his own - what is going on inside your head, I wondered.

"I should get you home," he said, and I could've sworn he sounded reluctant.

"I don't want to go home to an empty house," I said honestly, resting my head in my hand.

"Don't you have a line of staff waiting for you?"

"Stop that," I groaned, and he raised his hands in surrender, "Do you have plans?"

"Do you think I have plans, Ana?" he chuckled, and I took that as a no.

"Come back to my place," I suggested, watching a displeased expression spread across his face.

"I don't know if that's a good idea-"

"Aw, c'mon, please - we can order pizza, and watch a movie, and-"

"Okay, okay," he nodded, "I'll come."

I stood up from my chair, smiling widely, "Good! Let's go."

Harry glanced at me a final time before standing up, putting the books back onto the shelf and waving Hugo goodbye, as we walked out of the store.

"Won't your parents be home?" he frowned once we were walking, and I shook my head no.

"Business trip - and by business trip I mean my dad does all the work and my bitchy mother stands there and judges everybody," I laughed, as Harry scoffed.

"I won't even question that," he said, shoving his hands in his coat pockets.

As we arrived back to school, Anders was already pulled up outside awaiting my arrival. I nodded to Harry for him to follow me, and he got in the other side and slid into the backseat beside me.

"Hey, Anders," I smiled as Harry shut his door.

"Ana, would you mind telling me why you're absolutely- oh! Who's this?" his eyes searched in the rear view mirror to examine Harry, and I watched Harry tense up.

"This is my friend, Harry," I explained, shooting Harry a look as we took off down the road. I knew Harry felt uncomfortable - what I didn't know, was how to make him feel more reassured, without belittling him. I didn't see Harry as inferior - especially not to my family and I, but I knew - all his 'rich girl' jokes aside - he was unsure of how to go about this.

"Why are you so nervous?" I whispered to him, his head whipping around to look at me.

"I'm not nervous, Ana Grace," he teased quietly, his use of my middle name causing me to roll my eyes, "I hope you get a strain."

"Me too - then I won't have to see your face anymore."

"Oh, you're so damn lucky you're-"

Anders cleared his throat suddenly, interrupting whatever Harry had intended to say. I looked up, my eyes meeting his in the mirror as he nodded for us to get out.

I glanced at Harry before opening my door, slamming it shut behind me and heading up to the porch, Harry following closely behind me.

I swung the door open, signalling for Harry to enter as I closed it behind us, dumping my bag at the stairs.

"Celia, I'm home!" I called, turning back to Harry whose head faced the ground, "Harry, what's-"

Celia began to make her way down the staircase, a bright smile on her face, "I was wondering where you'd got to, Miss Levin, how was your - oh-" she stopped in her tracks, only halfway down, taking note of the boy beside me, "what're you doing here, Haz?"

I blinked, realisation beginning to set in, "Haz-?"

"I told you not to call me that," Harry responded calmly, as Celia reached the bottom of the stairs.

"I haven't heard from you at all this afternoon, Harry," Celia sighed, walking closer to Harry and fixing a flyaway strand of hair of his, "you know that I worry."

"I know, Mum, I know."