"Each meeting occurs at the precise moment for which it was meant. Usually, when it will have the greatest impact on our lives.” ― Nadia Scrieva


The local bookshop was a wonderful place to be. It was quiet, cosy and hardly any people, all the things I liked. I could prowl along the shelves, my fingers running over the spines of books. Up and down each row, some dedicated to fiction and others all about history. It was ridiculous how much time I spend in the bookshop. I popped in almost every day and each time, I bought a new book. The owner, a sweet elderly lady named Henrietta, knew me very well because she was there every time I walked in. And it was no different on this special Friday afternoon.

"Hello, my dear Ashley." She smiled at me, fixing her small glasses on her wrinkled nose.

"Afternoon, Etta." I smiled back. I was the only one who was allowed to call her by her nickname apart from her husband. And it was also because I didn't want to say her full name all the time. Henrietta just took up too much time to say.

"Will you be buying another book when you leave?"

"When don't I?" I rolled my eyes and laughed, heading further into the shop. This was what heaven looked like to me. Just books everywhere. Books had souls and kept every room alive. I had plenty of books at home, so many that I considered my bedroom a library. A library of my own.

The lights were soft inside, giving an earthy natural feel. Henrietta had some incense burning, spreading throughout the shop. It calmed me, such a relaxing atmosphere. If I could stay in this place forever, I would. But I couldn't because this shop closed at 6pm every evening. One time, Henrietta had let me stay until 7 but eventually had to kick me out. I understood, she wanted to go home, but I wanted to stay in there longer, curled up in a silent corner, surrounded by books, pages opened and closed.

I admired so many writers of many genres but I did like old stuff a lot. I wanted to be a writer myself so I gathered a lot of words and inspiration from the books that I read. It was how I found my niche for books and writing. I would be so content with my life if writing was my job. I loved to do it and it was such a great stress-reliever for me. I could escape into another world, fall in love with fictional characters and create a storyline that I was proud of. What I would give for that to become a reality.

"Ah, Mr. Styles, so good to see you again! It's been so long!" I heard Henrietta cry with delight. I could clearly picture her warm brown eyes glittering and a sweet smile on her kind face. I thought nothing of "Mr. Styles" until I heard his voice.

"How many times do I have to tell you? You can call me Harry, love."

I stopped walking down one of the fiction rows, like someone had pressed the pause button inside my body. I knew that deep English drawl all too well. His voice was unmistakable. It took me less than a second to realise that The Harry Styles had just entered my local bookshop.

I remained still where I stood, in complete shock. What's he doing here? I never knew that he came here. Sounds like Etta knows him! How often does he walk into this place? I wasn't exactly a stalker but it struck me as odd that I never knew that Harry came here. It must've been a while since he did though, from what Henrietta said. Her infectious laugh rang off the walls as Harry told her he didn't mind if she called him Harold, even though that wasn't his birth name.

I kept myself to myself and plucked a book off the shelf in front of me. It was a book that I loved, The Last Time I Saw Paris. It was about a young American woman called Claire Harris that travels to Paris to start her life afresh during World War II. She didn't anticipate to become a spy for the French Resistance though and is forced to fight for the man she loves and live to see the City of Light one last time. The heart and determination of Claire really spoke to me and it had always been a favourite read of mine. I realised that I didn't own a copy at home so I made the decision to buy it today to add to my collection. With the book clutched to my chest and a smile on my face, I looked up and almost shrieked.

Harry Styles was looking at me through the open space in the bookshelf, a look of wonder in his eyes.

"Oh, sorry, darlin'! Didn't mean to scare you."

I was locked into the prison of beauty that he carried around. Those fresh green irises and perfect pink lips. His long curls were left loose, pushed back from his forehead by a pair of expensive sunglasses. I hugged the book closer to my chest and managed to respond.

"Why were you looking at me?"

It came out harsher than I had wanted but Harry didn't seem fazed.

"I didn't mean to stare. I was just looking at the books and I saw you through this open space. Which is a little awkward talking to you through." He smirked, his deep dimple engraved in his cheek. I cracked a smile and looked down at the floor, mentally telling myself not to blush and look like a fool. Harry broke the silence, fortunately, by asking me a question.

"What book have you got there?"

"Oh, The Last Time I Saw Paris." I said, holding it up for him to see.

"I love that book!" He grinned widely and suddenly, his face disappeared. Did he leave already? Where did he go? But my thoughts were cut off when he walked around the corner, approaching me quickly, a skill he had because of his long legs.

"I haven't read it in so long. It's a beautiful story." He smiled. I nodded in agreement. He asked if he could see the book and I gladly handed it to him. His eyes glided over the cover as he spoke about the first time he read it. His voice reverberated in my ears but I hardly caught onto anything he said. I was too occupied with ogling at him. His fingers adorned with many rings, both gold and silver. A Rolling Stones T-shirt adorned his torso, showcasing the tattoos inked on his left arm, and skinny jeans hugged his slim legs. I would be lying if I didn't notice his package; that's how tight his jeans were. Even in the most casual clothes, he looked absolutely gorgeous.

"Have you read it before?" Harry inquired of me, making me look up into his eyes.

"Uh, yeah. Many times actually. It's great." I said.

"I really admire Claire's strength in it. She's very brave."

"I agree. Her character is very inspiring in that regard. Lynn Sheene really captured the essence of the 1940s and what happened with the Second World War, I would love to write like her one day."

"Do you want to be an author?" He asked, giving the book back to me. I nodded shyly, moving a strand of my blonde hair behind my ear. Harry rested his hand on the small table by the shelf, a smile on his face.

"You know, I haven't even asked you what your name is, darlin'."

"I'm Ashley."

"Harry."

"I know what your name is. I would be stupid if I didn't." I chuckled.

"I don't think you're stupid. You've got a great taste in books, Ashley. What other books do you like?"

Our conversation blew up in the most amazing way. It was like we were the closest of friends, conversing over our interests. Harry and I discussed our favourite authors, what our favourite books were. It was so...natural to talk to him. He wasn't the huge popstar that everyone saw. He was just Harry. I almost slapped him when he said he'd never read a book by Charles Dickens.

"You're joking?!"

"No, I'm not! His language, doesn't seem my style." Harry scrunched up his nose, running a ring-adorned hand through his hair. I don't know what it was about the way he did that but my heart skipped a beat.

"Right, I'm going to grab one of his books for you. And you're going to buy it." I stated, walking past him.

"Bossy much?" I heard him laugh after me. I bit my lip and smiled. I couldn't believe I was bossing Harry Styles around but honestly, it was amusing to do so. I strolled down the 'D' section until I found the book I was looking for. It was big but I could hold it. I returned to Harry and passed it to him. He let out an "Oof!" when he realised how heavy it was.

"You want me to buy this?"

"Yes. It's a classic." I retorted with confidence.

"Great Expectations? I don't think I'll be able to read this."

"You're not thick, are you?" I joked.

"Haha, so funny. No but it'd take me months to read this." Harry said.

"That's months well spent then." I said back.

"You're very desperate for me to read this, aren't you?" Harry laughed under his breath, locking his green eyes to my blue ones. I swallowed to get my breathing back, mesmerised by his handsome features. His smirk grew when I couldn't find any words to reply to him.

"Fine. I'll read it for you, Ashley." He sighed. A blush crept across my cheeks but I didn't look at the floor this time. I kept my eyes to Harry's. They had a shine that prevented me from looking away.

"You going to buy that?" He gestured to my book and I nodded. I didn't need to get any other books so both of us made our way back to the front of the shop. Henrietta waited for us and a surprised yet sweet expression graced her face when she saw Harry and I standing next to each other in front of the register.

"Hello, you two! Did you guys just...meet?"

"Yeah, we did. He was spying on me through the bookshelves." I said with a giggle.

"I was not!" Harry said, his eyes wide. Henrietta smiled and shook her head, muttering something faintly that oddly sounded like "young people." Harry paid for Great Expectations first, handing the kind owner the right amount of cash. Henrietta placed the book into a bag and handed it to Harry who took it with a gracious smile.

"Thank you, love. Well, Ashley, I'm sure I'll see you here again soon. It was a pleasure to meet you." He turned to me, speaking with such clarity that it was like an angel's melody. To my surprise, I felt his long fingers touch mine ever so gently. I didn't dare look down for I knew that my cheeks would turn an even deeper shade of pink than they already were.

"It was a pleasure for me as well, Harry. Enjoy Great Expectations."

"I'll try, darlin'. Bye, Henrietta." He smiled at the elderly woman, leaning over to press a kiss to her cheek. His touch was gone and he walked out of the shop with a wave before his tall body disappeared from my sight. I didn't realise I had been staring at the door for so long until Henrietta spoke up.

"You two would be cute together."

"Oh, I don't think that will ever happen." I said truthfully. Sure, Harry and I would maybe meet again here but as if we could embark on a relationship. That wouldn't be the case at all.

"Why ever not? Harry's a caring gentleman. You're a sweet young woman. Perfect ingredients for a couple." Henrietta said, placing The Last Time I Saw Paris into a bag. I didn't bother arguing with her because every time I did, she won. I paid for the book and farewelled Henrietta, assuring her that I would be back again tomorrow.

I exited the bookshop with a new book to put in my personal library, changed from the experience of meeting Harry. I wondered if he meant what he said, if we would see each other again. Well, I knew for certain that I would be going to the bookshop every day for a long time so I didn't have a chance of missing him popping in. And one thing I believed now, I couldn't wait to see his handsome face again.

Notes

Hope you enjoyed this, Ashley! Forgive me for any mistakes regarding The Last Time I Saw Paris, I've never read it. I love you, babe!

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