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babegoalsreads · 21 hours ago

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Under Construction III

Read Under Construction here | ~7.8k

From Me: this is a mess but I think it's cute

Warning: like two seconds of blood and then fluff and angsty shit

Summary: “Hi, Miss Bee,” he greeted so brightly she thought she might melt. He was so happy to see her it made her stomach twist. “I was hoping you’d be gone, but s’nice t’see you anyway,” he said stepping inside.

She bit the inside of her lip. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, s’Friday,” he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

It wasn’t lunch time, so Harry wasn’t standing by the fence like a certified creep. “Mr. Harry!” Someone shouted. He instinctively turned toward the field and found the gaggle of cuties lined up at the edge of the field. How he didn’t hear them approach was beyond him.

They were led by none other than the cutest woman of all. Today she wore a long green jacket. Black pants peeked out from it. Her coat had a tie fabric cinching her waist. Harry never paid much attention to what his date wore, but everything on her made her look three times as adorable if it were even possible.

He gave a wave, heading over to the group. “Hey everyone,” he greeted. “Early recess?” He asked.

They all glanced at her making sure it was okay to answer. “Go ahead, you know what to say,” she encouraged.

Harry remembered Amara (the little girl who bent her neck back at an incredible angle to chat with him last week) as she stepped forward to look up at him once more. “Miss Bee said our sandwich party is going to be on Halloween. So you can dress up as your dream job.”

He smirked and glanced at her. “What if this is m’dream job?” Because there wasn’t a world in which it wasn’t. Not if fate and destiny put him precisely at her side just because he got this job. It was the best job in the world.

They looked at her again. “That’s okay,” she affirmed with a laugh.

“Sometimes Miss Bee has silly rules, so we have to check.”

“I beg your pardon, they’re not silly!” She frowned with mock annoyance.

“Mr. Niall can come too!” Another one said excitedly.

“We’ve been really good in math too, so we get to ask you question too!” Kai bounced with energy that seemed quite misplaced in asking two construction workers about their jobs.

“Janie, do you want to give Mr. Harry what you brought?”

Harry watched as another little girl stepped forward. She held two folded pieces of construction paper, and she handed them up and toward Harry at the fence. “It’s made out of construction paper. Like your job,” she said explained as if Harry hadn’t a clue what it was. “One’s for Mr. Niall too.”

“Miss Bee wrote the cover part and then we all got to make a page each.”

Harry was enthralled with the cover. It had her extremely beautiful handwriting. Though he was pretty sure every little thing she did was beautiful. There were 3-D stickers of Halloween items placed sporadically across the page but still maintained a fun holiday aesthetic.

Please join us for our Halloween Sand-Witch party. Wednesday, October 31st at 11:45 AM. Please RSVP to Miss Bee and let her know if you have any allergies.

He flipped quickly seeing a variety of hand-drawn pictures. The drawings could only be himself and Niall munching on sandwiches the following week at their party. Along with a variety of varying six-year-old signatures, and so forth.

Harry smiled, his eye catching hers. This was almost as good as asking her on a date and hearing her say yes. A handwritten invitation was a dream come true. It didn’t matter to him in the slightest that the little party was going to be spent with twenty kindergarteners and his best friend either. Because she was going to be there dressed as something adorable, he was sure, and he couldn’t wait.

“We’d love t’attend,” he told them. She smiled shyly as the little ones cheered.

“Alright, Kindergarten... it’s time we head back now that the guys are invited,” she waved to Harry. “Say see you later to Mr. Harry.”

“See you later alligator!” Someone shouted, causing the rest to giggle uncontrollably.

She shook her head and smiled fondly at her group of funny children and headed back toward the school building peering back to catch Harry’s eye again.

On Friday, she was preparing for the following week as always. It had been raining hard all day long, so Under Construction wasn’t next door. Moreover, there was no outdoor recess so there was no way she would have seen him anyway. It made her miss Harry.

It seemed a little ridiculous that she would fall so quickly for an almost total stranger. Especially when she was so cautious about falling for anyone after Evan.

She met Evan while out with friends for a birthday dinner. He said he was drawn to her, a moth to a flame, the whole bit. He told her she was pretty, lovely, sweet, etc. Evan was handsome, talented, and funny. At first, he was excessively kind. Flowers every week, asked her to move in only three months in, told her he couldn’t live without her.

He worked for a financial company. One that made him a lot of money so he could afford a big house—bigger than two people without kids conceivably needed. But it was for their future. Evan’s job required many business meetings and parties that left her feeling completely drained socially and financially. Every party required a new fancy outfit that she didn’t want to pay for. He made her go to golfing fundraisers (even though she hated golf) and helped him with parties at his place for clients and partners alike.

All while she tried to get her bearings in her first two years of teaching.

Evan never attended a school event. He didn’t help her move her furniture in her classroom. He didn’t understand why she would go to work on days she wasn’t getting paid to set things up. He didn’t get that the magic inside a classroom happened outside of school hours, and it was well worth the time she put into it. There was no help from him putting bulletin boards together and he certainly wouldn’t be caught dead on her colorful carpet laminating on a Tuesday afternoon.

She finished her planning and clicked into another tab on her computer to look at the to-do lists that never seemed to get any shorter. She had a section for classroom improvements, stain her bookshelves, inquire about fixing the outlets, find more shelving, paint her rocking chair, and more. There was so much.

After their breakup—the one instigated by Evan because she was spending too much time at school—she moved into a tiny little house on her own. It was no more than a one-bedroom apartment. Just enough space for herself and she loved it, but it also needed so much work. There was the roof that leaked in the rain in the same spot, one of the stove burners didn’t work, one of the windows in the living room was so stiff shut she couldn’t move it. Her bedroom seemed poorly insulated and was freezing in the winter, the tile flooring in her bathroom was cracked in several places. But it was home. The cutest little place she had ever seen. The living room was filled with books, and the dining table was a spot for her tutoring sessions.

The kitchen always smelled like cookies or brownies. Things that she brought to her parent’s house on Wednesday evenings when she, her siblings, and anyone available in her family gathered for a meal together. Her sister’s fiancée begged for muffins at least once a month and she smirked at the thought.

There wasn’t enough time and there wasn’t enough energy she could muster to fix her place up. There were more pressing matters. Trying to eat well, exercise, get her master’s degree. Visiting her parents and helping her sister with her wedding. It was exhausting.

She was jolted from her thoughts by a knock on her outside door. She put a hand on her heart, not anticipating a knock as it was downpouring. It was four-thirty in the afternoon on a Friday. All her co-workers hightailed it out of there shortly after the buses had left. Slowly, cautiously, she walked over to the door seeing Harry smiling in the small window. He had a black raincoat on, the hood keeping his pretty face from getting wet.

Immediately she opened the door. “Hi, Miss Bee,” he greeted so brightly she thought she might melt. He was so happy to see her it made her stomach twist. “I was hoping you’d be gone, but s’nice t’see you anyway,” he said stepping inside.

She bit the inside of her lip. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, s’Friday,” he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Sorry ‘bout m’coat,” he frowned as it dripped on the floor. “S’raining cats and dogs out there,” he shrugged out of the coat and snapped it outside, a tiny little overhang keeping it the smallest bit dry. He slung it on the back of an upturned chair on one of her tables, so it dripped below to the floor. He frowned and headed toward the bathroom for paper towels. “I’ll take care of this before we leave,” he promised placing a bunch of towels below the dripping coat.

She stared at him. “What are you doing here, Harry?”

He turned slightly, smiling up at her while he knelt next to his watery mess. “S’Friday, wanted t’see what y’needed help with for next week.”

She blinked. “But... you didn’t work today.”

“As a matter of fact, I did work. I had a meeting about our progress and talked to suppliers about materials and such,” he said proudly, the dimples indenting his cheeks.

“Oh... I meant... outside,” she shook her head. “I didn’t mean to imply—”

He chuckled quietly as she tried to back track. “S’fine, Bird. I knew what y’meant. Don’t worry ‘bout it. No, ‘course with the rain it puts us back a day or two, so I had t’be productive in other ways.”

There was something wrong with her, because that was one of the hottest sentences she had ever heard anyone say and he was merely talking about productivity.

“Um...” she swallowed. “I don’t need... you didn’t... you came all the way here?”

“S’not too far from m’place actually,” he said with a shrug. He headed toward her desk to see her little piles of what needed to be accomplished. He hoped to find something labeled Monday, or maybe something that needed to be cut or stapled together. Instead, he found her to-do list opened on her computer. “What’s this?” He asked, glancing at her screen.

“Oh... don’t look at that, they’re... they’re nothing. Just... they’re my to-do—”

“Your roof leaks?” He asked looking up at her in shock. He also looked completely hurt. Like it was unimaginable that she kept that from him. “Bird, why didn’t you say something? I would have—”

“Stop,” she put her hand on her chest feeling it ache with want for him. Adoration for him. Something that felt dangerously close to the feelings she had when she first started dating Evan and he brought her flowers every week. “Harry,” she said softly. “I am so appreciative of you coming down here and helping me, but you don’t have to. It’s likely I can’t reciprocate or—”

His eyes dropped to her computer again scanning the list, ignoring her and wondering what else she needed done. “Bird, you’re cold?” He asked. She felt like she was in trouble. Her throat tightening over the emotion she felt. It was a long day—but all of them were long. Her weeks felt endless. And she was cold. So lonely in that cold, damp, tiny place she lived no matter how much she loved it. “Kitten,” he whispered quietly.

“Stop,” she begged. “Please stop.”

“Bird,” he frowned. “Y’should have said something. I can bring Niall t’look at it, we can fix it up in a minute—”

Tears welled in her eyes. “Harry, I’m begging; please stop.”

“No,” he shook his head. “Y’would never let one of your students have a problem like this,” he turned from her computer, strode across the room to her, and put a hand on her hip while pulling her toward him. She looked away from him, ignored the sparks that burst from the touch on her waist. She shook her head.

“It’s not important.”

He gently touched her cheek turning her gaze back to him. His finger resting beneath her chin. “You’re not important?” He questioned. “Y’know how ridiculous y’sound, right? I’ve known you less than a month and I think y’might be the most important person I know.”

She swallowed and shrugged. “There’s more pressing matters,” she whispered. “I have this classroom to worry about and little minds to mold. My sister’s getting married, and my mom needs—”

“All that is more pressing than y’not catching a cold?”

“I-I... I’m not going to... I don’t—”

He rubbed his thumb across her lip making all of the words in her head disappear. “Bird, you’re going t’make yourself sick.”

Was this what it was supposed to feel like? In all the time she dated Evan, there wasn’t much worry about her. It was usually a worry about what she wasn’t doing or couldn’t do because she was busy. There was never a worry about stretching herself too thin or making her do more because he wanted her to be part of his stuff.

One lone tear rolled down her cheek and she shook her head immediately, moving his hand from her face in hopes he wouldn’t notice. But of course, he did. “Hey,” he whispered gently. “Bird, my love,” his voice was so soft it made her feel warm again. “Hey,” he cooed, “C’mere,” he tucked her to his chest, kissed the top of her head like it was an everyday occurrence. Like it wasn’t the first time his lips touched her. “It’s okay,” he hummed. God, he was so warm. Is this what it was supposed to feel like? Was this how she was supposed to feel when someone cared about her and all the little things she neglected to speak into existence?

She sniffled, wiping at her face while Harry calmly soothed her. His hand rubbed up and down her back. The last time she remembered someone soothing her like this had to be when she was a child and her dad was trying to comfort her over a broken toy or missing her mum on a work trip.

“Sorry,” she sniveled. “I think I’m just really overwhelmed.”

“I’ll say,” he agreed.

She rolled her lips into her mouth and pulled away from him even though it was a hundred times colder than her bedroom ever could be outside the circle of his arms. “Sometimes I just need to cry and be dramatic,” she admitted and wiped her eyes.

Harry was looking at her like she was going to have a breakdown at any moment. He wanted to wrap her back up in his arms but part of him was a afraid he might not ever let her go. “I don’t think y’being dramatic, kitten,” his voice was still very soft. Like he was worried he’d set her off somehow. “Think y’might jus’ be a little too not dramatic, actually.”

She took a deep breath. “My house is fine, really. It’s not a big leak. It’s only when it rains,” as if to make matters worse it thundered loudly outside. She winced while Harry just stared at her.

“This ex of yours, was he handy at all?” He asked and moved to the table where piles were made, and he finally found something labeled Monday. He grabbed a pair of scissors and started cutting the paper; sitting on the floor like he did on Tuesday. Like it was no big deal that he came out in the middle of a thunderstorm to help her on a day he didn’t work next door.

“No,” she shook her head. “He just hired people.”

But she left out telling him about only hiring when it was convenient for him. “Hmm.”

“I actually know a lot about fixing things up,” she admitted. “Not nearly to the degree that you do. I need a lot of YouTube videos and time I sincerely do not have to execute it, but I installed our dishwasher on my own. And I pulled up some carpet and put some flooring down in our dining room.

She swore Harry was smiling proudly at her. Like he had taught her or something. “S’very lovely, kitten. S’good t’know how t’do those kinds of things... but I wouldn’t have let y’lift a finger t’do it.” It was like he sucked all the air out of her body and for a moment she really felt frozen. Harry continued cutting paper and pretending like he hadn’t just rendered her lungs useless. “We still on for Sunday afternoon?” He asked.

She nodded. “You’re still going to come to the party on Wednesday even if it’s the worst date of your life?” She asked. “I will have a really hard time explaining it to the kids if you don’t.”

He chuckled. “M’certain it’ll be the best date of m’life, but yes. I’ll be there Wednesday,” he assured her.

“Thank you, Harry,” she whispered and sat beside him.

Harry wasn’t dressed in his typical construction gear. Instead, he wore jeans, a pair of sneakers, and a cozy sweatshirt. He smiled at her. “Course, Bird.”

The thunder was loud. Practically, shaking the small frame of her house. Sighing, she looked up at the ceiling unable to see anything in the dark until the lightning illuminated her room. Her phone said it was only after one in the morning. Much too early or late to do anything but try and fall back asleep.

Sighing again, she got out of bed and headed to her bathroom before making a stop in the kitchen for a glass of water. As soon as she stepped in the kitchen, her foot was met with a puddle.

Her heart pounded. “No, no, no, fuck,” she hissed and smacked the light switch on the wall. She put a hand to her mouth as the leak was now a definitive hole in the middle of her ceiling. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” She hurried back to the bedroom grabbing her phone and dialing Louis as quickly as she could. As she listened to it ring longer than she wanted to (but couldn’t blame Louis for not answering so early in the morning), she grabbed pots and pans out of her cabinets catching as much rain as she could.

“’Lo?” he yawned. Exhausted, clearly. It was one in the morning. The poor thing probably didn’t want to get out of bed in the pouring rain, but she didn’t know what else to do... she didn’t have a choice.

“Louis, I,” she gasped. “I need help, please!”

“What’s wrong?” He asked quickly. “El, baby,” he hummed off to the side of his phone. “Get your coat,” he mumbled.

“What’s happening?” She moaned.

“Shh,” he hushed. “What’s wrong, love?” He asked. “Are you alright?”

“My ceiling!”

“Ah fuck,” he grumbled. Louis immediately knew what the issue was. “I should have—”

“Louis, I don’t have time for I-Told-You-Sos. Hurry up!” She begged and watched as another chunk of her ceiling fell to the floor. It wasn’t a huge hole, but if she hadn’t gotten up it was going to cave in her ceiling for sure by morning.

“Alright, alright, we’re on the way.”

Harry was dreaming. The pretty kindergarten teacher was in his house, drinking tea, and relaxing. It was adorable. Her smile was so sweet. No evidence of sadness or exhaustion on her face. He wanted to die seeing her upset that afternoon. But there was only so much he could do.

But she wasn’t upset right then. His dream made her giggly, like when her students made her laugh. She was wearing a pretty pink dress, it brought out the warmth in her. It wasn’t short, of course, but she wore leggings beneath it and she looked so cozy. “Hi Miss Bee,” he chuckled approaching her. “Did you have a good day?”

“Mhmm... come here,” she patted the sofa beside her. “I missed you.”

It was music to his ears.

“Missed you t—”

His phone nearly sent him into an early grave waking him from the dead of sleep. He slapped his hand out and smacked it off the nightstand. “Shit,” he whispered grabbing it. It was an unknown number and normally he’d ignore it, but he had never gotten a call in the middle of the night. “Hello?”

“Oh thank God,” Eleanor sighed. “Harry, I’m so sorry to bother you. Her ceiling. It’s got a hole in it and she’s freaking out and it’s raining so bad, and we have no idea what to do, can you help us?”

He knew he should have checked it out.

“Yeah, yeah, course, jus’ send me the address.”

“I already did,” Harry put the phone on speaker and checked the message while he rifled through his drawer for clothes to wear in the rain. He felt his heart skip a beat to know she was only a five-minute drive away.

“M’five minutes away once I get m’shoes on.”

“You’ll beat us there, thank you, so, so much.”

Harry called Niall immediately. “I was sleeping,” he groaned.

“M’sending you an address. Miss Bee’s got a roof situation.”

“Shit, in this weather?”

“I’ll be there in five. Bring anything y’can think of.”

The rain was not letting up. The thunder and lightning only added to the shitty night she was having. She ran from her house to the small shed in the back corner of her yard to find something useful. Louis would be a few minutes, and she really didn’t want to wait a second longer than she needed to.

With a small flashlight between her teeth, she found the ladder that would be large enough to get her on her roof. She awkwardly held it as she walked back toward the house, propping it against the side.

Her raincoat wasn’t doing anything. It was going to feel downright tropical in her room when she got back inside. Everything was so terrible right then, she just wanted to cry, and she couldn’t because there wasn’t even time to have a meltdown. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she whispered to herself entering the shed once more. She found a tarp. She hadn’t a clue how she would get it to stay down but it was something. It’s not like she had time to find a YouTube video on it either.

In addition to the tarp, she grabbed a hammer, tucked it into the waistband of her pants. Then she snagged a box of nails and put them in her coat pocket before she made her way back to her leaky house. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she whispered.

She climbed the ladder, it was slippery and terrified her, but what choice did she have. She had a flashlight between her teeth and the tarp under her arm. This was a horrible idea, but it was one in the morning and nothing made more sense than this.

The thunder was so loud, and the only light came from a streetlamp just a little too far away from her house to be useful. She slowly climbed onto the roof and felt her heart hammering hard against her chest. She took a deep breath through her nose and climbed further onto the roof. It was slippery, wet, and cold. Her fingers felt frozen as she moved her way up toward where the leak was. She unfolded the tarp and placed it so it would flip over toward the front of her house and the rain would slide over the hole and nothing would get under it. It was a little relieving to have a plan, but it was very short-lived.

“What the fuck are you doing?!”

The sound of someone else shouting at her brought her practically to a stop; she dropped the flashlight and lost her footing. She grabbed at the tarp, the shingles, anything to stop her from sliding off her house and into the yard. “Shit!” She barely had time to scream while she clawed for something to get a purchase. Her roof wasn’t particularly tall (she wasn’t living in a mansion by any stretch), but she imagined a ten-foot fall in the rain would probably result in a broken bone or two. In her slide, the hammer dug into her hip, certainly it was going to leave a bruise. She was lucky the nails were in the box, or she suspected she’d have an ER trip this early morning as well as a roof to repair.

Fortunately, her hands snagged onto the gutter before she made her final descent to the ground. The metal clanging and moaning as it pulled from the house with her dead weight hanging onto it. It hurt her fingers, her left middle finger definitely felt like it was cut on some part of the metal lip she clung to. “Let go,” the voice ordered from behind her.

She gasped. Tried to turn and look at who was bossing her around in the middle of the night. “I—”

“Bird, let go of your fucking house, now.”

Her heart managed to flutter once it recognized Harry’s voice. Just his voice made her feel safe and she felt infinitely better about her situation. It was a painful realization because Harry didn’t need this. From here it was only a five to six foot drop and less likely to hurt her, but she was still exhausted, tired, and certain with her luck she’d land on a rock and break an ankle.

So, despite all instinct, she released the gutter with nothing else but hope she wouldn’t hurt herself upon her landing in her yard.

Instead, she fell into his arms. Harry caught her, cradling her briefly and absorbing the impact of her fall by bending slightly while catching her. Before she had a mere second to be in his arms and think it through, he placed her on her feet with ease.

“What the hell were you thinking?!” He snapped. “Are you insane?” His anger didn’t match his gentle touch as he cupped her face. His hands then dropped to her arms and moved further south to her waist and hips as he scanned her for injury. It was still near pitch dark if it weren’t for the headlight he had on his forehead. The light scanned her like a laser as she gaped at his presence. “Are you okay, bird?” His voice was softer this time.

“How... how did you...?” She stared at him in disbelief that he was really truly there.

“Eleanor called me,” he stated. “What were y’doing on a roof in the rain by yourself?” He asked, his voice turning harsh again. She had never heard him sound anything but kind and sweet. The anger was almost terrifying.

“I-I, my roof—”

“You scared me t’death,” he yanked her to him, her face pressing to his chest. She swore she could feel his heartbeat through his clothes, over the sound of the pouring rain and the thunder in the distance. “Jesus, bird,” he grumbled, squeezing her tight. “I should have looked at it this afternoon, m’so sorry,” he murmured. “So, so sorry,” he repeated quietly. “Niall’s almost here, we’re gonna fix it up. Jus’... go inside and stay warm, please,” he pleaded pulling away from her, keeping a hand on her face for a moment as he scanned her once more.

“But—”

“Jus’ go inside, bird. S’fine. I’ll take care of it.”

She blinked, rain water was streaming over her face as she tried to figure out what to do next. Wincing, she pulled the hammer from her waistband as it skimmed the sensitive bruise that was definitely forming as she stood there. Then she took the box of nails from her pocket. “Not sure if these are useful,” she offered quietly.

His eyes looked so sad, so displeased. She wanted to cry. “Resourceful,” he murmured.

She nodded silently. “I’m... I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Go inside, bird, please.”

As she turned away toward her door, Niall was suddenly there. A matching headlight to Harry’s also on his forehead. “Hey Miss Bee,” Niall smirked as if this was normal to meet up with her in her backyard at one in the morning. “Having fun?”

“Loads,” Harry deadpanned. She felt flushed as she didn’t answer Niall. He winked at her and gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Go inside, love. Please.”

She bit the inside of her lip and headed in. She dumped the filled pots and pans into her sink, and she grabbed towels from the linen closet. Everyone and everything was going to be soaked.

“Good morning, sunshine! Fancied a bath in the kitchen, did you?” Eleanor chirped cheerfully as she entered. Like it wasn’t one in the morning, and her house wasn’t falling apart. But her smile quickly morphed into a frown at the sight of her wet friend dripping, cold, and so completely defeated in the eyes. “Aw, sweetie,” she whispered.

A lone sob escaped her lips, and she covered her mouth, except she forgot about the cut on her finger. She winced at the slight pain and sting. “Goddammit!” She snapped and dropped her head to her other hand and cried.

Eleanor made her way to her, gently tugging her coat off her body. “It’s alright,” she promised. “You’re okay, babe,” she reminded her. “It’s just a little hole... Harry and Niall will take care of it,” she brushed her hand over her hair soothingly.

She sniffled. “Today was not a good day,” she whispered.

“Well, technically it’s tomorrow, and I imagine at one in the morning, it can only go up from here,” she said positively. She snorted and shook her head.

“Don’t make me laugh.”

Eleanor smiled. Above them she could hear the muffled sounds of Niall and Harry working together to repair her roof in the rain. The thunder and lightning didn’t change pace. “You clean up your hand, I’ll take care of the kitchen,” she said softly. “Go change, clean up, and brush your hair. He may be in love with you, but you would kill me if he saw you with your wet, rainy bed head,” she teased.

She snorted again and even though she didn’t want to trouble Eleanor, she listened and headed to the bathroom.

Louis wasn’t as helpful as Niall and Harry, but he was able to hold an additional flashlight and hand items to them as needed. Once the tarp was in place (with an added piece of rubber over top of it that Niall had brought from home) Louis helped clean up their tools and materials. He brought the ladder back to her shed while their belongings went back to their cars. Once everything was cleaned up and they were confident her roof wouldn’t leak for the remainder of the night, Louis guided them inside the small house of his best friend.

“Thanks boys,” Eleanor smiled happily in the kitchen. She was by the sink drying off pots and pans that she clearly washed.

But Harry was scanning for the pretty kindergarten teacher, clearly. Eleanor glanced down the hall suspiciously and Harry followed her gaze. “You okay in there, babe? The guys are inside, now!”

“Just trying to get my band aid to stay,” she called back.

“Niall, can we get you some tea?” Louis asked while Harry moved toward the sound of her voice. He knocked quietly on the only closed door in the little hall assuming it must be her bathroom.

“Bird?”

There was a quiet sigh from inside. “Crap,” he heard her whisper. But then the door opened.

God, she was pretty. Even sad. Even a little banged up, wet, and tired, she was gorgeous, really. Harry was in awe of her.

“Can you—” she sighed heavily. The cut wasn’t just to her middle finger as she thought but across her index and ring fingers too. Harry gently pushed inside the bathroom, holding her shoulders and guiding her to on the closed toilet lid as he looked at the array of band aid wrappers that had fluttered to the floor. He pulled the head lamp off and shrugged out of his wet coat just like he had less than twelve hours ago in her classroom, he hung it on the back of the bathroom door hook where her towel usually hung.

Silently he bandaged her up, pausing only slightly when she winced in pain from the antibacterial spray he put on her cut. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Y’have nothing t’apologize for,” he murmured. “I’m sorry for yelling at you.”

“It’s alright, you were scared. I would have done the same thing. I was scared too.”

He completed the bandages on her hand. Carefully, he cupped the side of her face, his thumb brushing on her cheek as he gently tilted her gaze up to meet him. “Don’t ever do something dangerous like that again,” his voice was very quiet, but none less serious.

“Okay,” she whispered.

“Are you okay?”

She nodded. “Thank you, so much. Really.”

“Course, bird. Told you. M’at your service,” he reminded her. She smiled shyly, and Harry was almost certain he didn’t imagine the way she leant into his palm that cupped her very pretty face. For a moment it wasn’t one in the morning, her roof wasn’t a mess, and Harry was only there because he wanted to be, not because he had to be.

“You can stay here,” she said to Louis and Eleanor as she walked into the kitchen. “It’s late.”

“Already pulled the sofa out and got sheets,” Eleanor said with a yawn. She walked away from the sink and made herself comfy on the sofa. Louis chuckled and headed after her.

“Good night, everyone. Thanks for helping Miss Kindergarten.”

“You guys are welcome to stay as well, I have a couple air mattresses,” she offered to Niall and Harry.

“In the morning, she’ll make muffins,” Louis called out quietly.

Niall yawned but shook his head. “M’good to head home, Miss Bee. Thank you though. If there’s a problem again, call Harry and we’ll come over again. We’re going to fix it tomorrow when the rain lets up, yeah?”

She nodded. There was no use arguing. At least not right now. “Thank you,” she sighed. “Text Harry when you get home,” she said sweetly as he exited, the door closing quietly.

Harry grinned while he sipped on a cup of warm tea. That was very sweet of her wanting to know about Niall’s safety. She turned back to Harry. “I can set up an air mattress. I’d rather stay in case something happens to the tarp,” he offered.

“Jesus, just sleep in her bed, you’re both grown adults,” Eleanor groaned.

Her face turned the color of the pants he liked most on her—the ones she wore the day they met. He smiled softly, shook his head as he sipped his tea again so he wouldn’t let on how much he liked that idea.

“El, shh,” Louis whispered. “That was an inside thought. Go to sleep,” he mumbled.

Harry couldn’t help but show his smile and he looked at her almost apologetically on Eleanor’s behalf. “Air mattress?”

“Babe, it’s so loud,” Eleanor whined.

“Shut. Up,” she hissed.

“I can sleep on the floor,” he offered with a chuckle.

“Absolutely not,” she whispered and grabbed his hand. She tugged him down the hall to her bedroom. She flicked the light on and Harry inspected the little room with awe. A closet opposite the wall of three windows with gray colored curtains with an intricate lace design. Her bed resided in the middle of the wall with a fluffy green comforter that looked warm and cozy. Beside it was a nightstand, filled with books, a water cup, and her phone. There was a plush gray carpet that extended beyond her bed frame and into most of the room taking up 80% of the floor.

Her dresser looked old, reminded him of her desk and shelving in her classroom. There was a mirror propped up behind it or on it, he couldn’t be sure. Pictures surrounded the frame of it and on the surface was a beautiful, almost antique jewelry box.

None of her furniture matched. He figured it was subject to her yard sale ways as well. “I like your room,” he said.

She sighed. “A work in progress.”

He smiled. “Are you okay?”

“Not really.”

He frowned instantly. “Bird,” he sighed and brought his hand to the side of her neck. He brushed his thumb on her cheek again. “Everything’s okay.”

“I’m just... not having a good day,” she whispered looking away from him. “I’m sorry. I feel so bad for bothering you this late and my room is freezing cold, and you should just go so you don’t get sick from the rain and this icebox,” but Harry couldn’t help but notice she didn’t move from his touch.

A sad smile graced his lips and eyes. He was so handsome it made her stomach do back flips. “Jus’ lay down, bird,” he said softly.

“Harry, it’s freezing—”

“Get in the bed, love,” he was a little firmer, but no less soft in his approach. He gently nudged her forward. Poor thing must have been exhausted because she willingly let him tuck her in, rubbing her arms gently for friction and warmth.

Turning back to the doorway, he clicked the light off bathing them in darkness. Silently he stripped out of his wet clothes. “M’jus’ gonna get between the sheet and the comforter,” he assured her. “No funny business, bird. Need a proper date,” he teased.

She snorted and turned on her side away from him. Maybe her room was cold. But it was very warm beside her in bed. “Thank you, Harry.”

“Of course,” he murmured toward her frame still faced away from him. He smiled at the shadow of her that he could only vaguely make out when the lightning peeped through the space in her curtains between windows. “Anything for you Miss Bird.”

When she woke up, she was sweating.

Harry was snuggled behind her, his arm draped across her body, the sheet the only barrier between her and him. He was still asleep, at least she was pretty sure. His breathing made it seem that way. He felt warm and good, even if she was sweating. “Mm,” he hummed and tightened his grip on her. She smiled softly to herself and let him hold her for a minute. It was perhaps too hot, too cozy, and definitely not what she should have done. But it was nice and safe. Harry made her feel incredibly safe.

After a few minutes of blissful resting, she carefully lifted his arm off her and snuck out of bed. He didn’t stir too much other than gripping her pillow and holding it close. She looked away before she climbed in beside him again. She tiptoed across the room to her dresser, pulling the bottom drawer open slowly so it didn’t make noise from getting stuck on the uneven swells of old wood. She found a pair of sweatpants that she bought at least two sizes too large that would fit Harry’s frame along with a sweatshirt she got back in college from a friend’s ex-boyfriend. She left the clothes on the bed beside her sleeping partner peacefully dreaming and drooling onto her pillow.

She grinned to herself and made her way to the door, stopping at his pile of wet clothes trying her best to avoid the parts of her old floor that creaked with her weight. She quickly opened and closed her door without letting it squeak or whine—so Harry could sleep in peace.

She turned to the washer and dryer in the small closet beside her bathroom, tossing his clothes inside the dryer. Next, she headed to the kitchen. Louis was sitting up on the sofa, Eleanor snuggled into his lap. He was scrolling on his phone and combing his fingers through her hair. She smiled fondly at her best friend and gave a silent wave.

“She’s awake, you can talk,” he said quietly.

“Mm, debatable,” El grumbled.

She smirked and headed outside barefoot. It wasn’t as cold as it was last night, and the sun was starting to appear. She stepped further back in the yard to get a whole picture view of her roof. Crossing her arms at her stomach she sighed. Louis joined her (wearing shoes, however) he faced the house with her and he draped an arm around her shoulders.

“Harry said you almost fell off the roof. You got up there yourself?”

“I knew you were on the way,” she mumbled. But her gutter looked a little misshapen from her fall. Something else that would need to be fixed in addition to her tarped roof. “I figured I’d get a head start.”

“If I found you knocked unconscious in your garden, I would have lost my mind,” Louis stated.

“It needed to be done—”

“Irrelevant,” he shook his head and kissed the top of her head. “Don’t do that again.”

“Harry already gave me this lecture.”

“Good.”

She sighed. “I should just sell it and rent an apartment,” she mumbled. “I don’t have the time or energy to fix it up. It’ll be a loss, but—”

“You love this place,” Louis reminded her.

“I do, but at what cost? You were right, I should have fixed the leak when I first noticed it.”

“How did that taste in your mouth? Saying I’m right?” He smirked and gave her a squeeze.

“Like vinegar.... meanie,” she grumbled.

“This is your house. You can do whatever you want with it. If you want to sell it, you know I’ll help you. But you don’t have to. I’m sure there’s someone that would love to help you fix it up,” he grinned. As if on cue, Harry appeared in her backyard, rubbing his eye. “Good morning, Harry, how did you sleep?”

“Like a rock,” he murmured. He was wearing the outfit she selected for him, and she felt her heart skip. He followed her and Louis into the yard, the laces of his work boots untied. “No shoes?” He asked, glancing at her feet.

“I’m only going to be out here a second,” she assured him.

“She’s not really a shoe person,” Louis told him. “She’s a summer girl because of work,” he explained.

“I could see that,” he smirked and looked at her house. “Looks like the tarp held,” he put his hands into the pockets as he assessed the damage the same as her.

“Yeah,” she nodded. “Thank you.”

“M’pleasure.”

“I’m going to get El a little more mobile so she can help you with the muffins,” Louis offered. “We can go for a coffee run too,” he pulled away from her with another kiss to the top of her head. “Harry, tea? Coffee?”

“Tea, please,” he nodded.

Harry stood beside her, their arms brushing as she looked her house over. “That was stupid of me,” she said quietly. “Going up there alone in the dark.”

“Not stupid. Y’were jus’ trying t’fix it.”

She sighed. “When will Niall be here?”

“Soon as he stops t’get me more clothes,” he smirked.

“I’m sorry. This is an awful way to spend a Saturday. I can find someone—”

“Bird, jus’ let me do it,” he chuckled. “M’begging you.”

“You’re sure, it’s not a bother?”

“Course not,” he promised.

“I don’t know how, but I’ll make it up to you.”

He grinned. “C’mon, let’s get you inside before y’lose a toe.”

The roof was repaired in a few hours. She could hear Niall and Harry laughing while she let her muffins bake. Eleanor and Louis helped her clean up a little more and eventually the pair came down from the roof. “All set, Miss Bee,” Niall grinned.

“Thank you,” she sighed. “Thank you so much, here let me—” She attempted to hand Niall money, but he put his hands up in front of him like she was trying to stab him with a knife.

“Absolutely not. It’s on the house.”

“Literally,” Louis chuckled.

“Boo...” El rolled her eyes.

She looked at Harry nervously. “Don’t even think ‘bout it, bird,” he warned.

Pouting, she put the money back in her purse and then held out the plate of muffins that had finished onto the counter. “Here,” she offered. “The blueberry white chocolate chip ones are the best.”

“Don’t be mean to my cranberry walnut,” Eleanor said protectively.

She smiled. “Chocolate chip is by far superior, my love,” Louis said knowingly, and they took their muffins to the sofa bed.

Niall snagged one of each, with an impish smile and followed her friends. Harry stood opposite her at the counter. “We still on for tomorrow?”

“You still want to see me? After this whole catastrophe of a week?”

He nodded, picking the baking cup off his muffin with a smile. “God, yeah.”

“You might be a little crazy.”

“M’definitely a little crazy ‘bout you, bird.”

“That will be seven days in a row of seeing me.”

“A perfect week, in m’opinion,” he ripped a piece of the top of the muffin off and popped it into his mouth. “Mm,” he sighed. “Blueberry is definitely m’favorite,” he smiled.

“What are we doing tomorrow?” She asked.

He grinned. “I thought y’might want t’stick to something simple. Jus’ lunch. We can walk around the park if it’s nice out,” he offered. “But s’also Sunday so m’sure y’want some time t’rest, so I won’t keep you out forever.” That sounded highly unfair. Part of her didn’t want Harry to leave and she felt so ridiculous about saying it. Or maybe it was because he was so warm in her freezing cold room. “Lunch for sure.”

“Is it a fancy place? I just want to know what I should wear.”

“Not particularly,” he shook his head. “You can wear whatever you want,” he promised. “M’sure you’ll look stunning.”

Her face warmed with the compliment wondering for the millionth time why Harry would want to put her kindergarten chaos in his life. “M’with Eleanor, cranberry walnut is the winner,” Niall said around a mouthful of his breakfast treat.

“Told you!”

“Fine by me, I don’t have to share,” Louis said with a shrug.

Harry chuckled, gave her a wink, and headed to join the little group in her living room. Like he wasn’t stealing her heart and soul at all.

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#oh. my. god.#I love him and need him immediately #I’d let him fix everything just to see him walk around the house #fluff

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babegoalsreads · 22 days ago

Text

Under Construction I

Read Under Construction here | ~5.6k

From Me: this is going to be a bit of a slow burn, totally unsure how many parts it will be and how on earth it's going to go. I have no end in mind right now or any climactic parts. P.S. I had to give her a last name, I couldn't see a way to get around it, but I tried to pick on that would match the nickname Harry was going to give her.

Warning: fluffy, cute, maybe a little angsty in my teacher-brain mind.

Summary: Harry nodded. “I’d be happy t’help.”

“Oh, that’s completely unnecessary,” she assured him. “I can’t imagine you really want to be here after a long day of manual labor on a Friday no less and—”

“Miss Bird, I would imagine s’not nearly as draining as trying t’wrangle and keep the attention of twenty-something six-year-olds, for six hours a day,” he interrupted and looked at her knowingly. “M’happy t’help.”

“Miss Bee! DJ took my crayon right out of my hand!” She turned from the table of four she was working with and glanced behind her to see DJ coloring and Janie pouting. She sighed.

“Janie, my love, there’s more crayons in the craft drawers,” she reminded her.

“But I was using that one!”

“I know, and DJ, you know better than to take something out of someone’s hand while they’re using it, please give it back,” she said knowingly. He frowned and dropped the crayon on the table. “Thank you,” she nodded appreciatively and turned back to her table.

“Miss Bee, I think DJ like-likes Janie,” Mae giggled.

“Ew,” Kaleb wrinkled his nose.

“It’s not polite to gossip, Mae,” she said knowingly. “Now can you guys tell me what’s wrong with this sentence?” She asked and held the whiteboard out. She watched the eight pairs of eyes scrutinize the marker.

The other students were at their stations learning and discovering. It was the last round of rotations. When the little bell chimed from the countdown on her SmartBoard they would head to the carpet for story time.

Her classroom was the stuff of dreams—or at the very least her dream. There were colorful posters around the room. Inspirational messages and words of kindness all about her space. The cubbies were filled with lunch boxes and snacks. Their little closet spaces hung their fall coats and backpacks. When they headed to lunch, she would sift through their take-home folders and make sure to gather notes and questions from parents and fill it with the weekly letter she sent to their family.

It was her fourth year of teaching kindergarten, and she loved it so much. The kids were so happy to see her each day, and it felt like she had a family of twenty. Each of her students was so sweet and lovely. This year she had really felt she had won the lottery with how good they were. Over the weekend she missed them. On holidays she was antsy about coming back to school and ask how they enjoyed their family time.

She was exhausted too, there was no doubt about that. Little ones were needy—over the smallest of things. Like the crayon stealing. Or the tummy aches. Sometimes the six-year-olds were just overtired or overstimulated and needed a hug.

But even her toughest kids loved her too. The parent night held just a couple weeks into the school year told her that. “He has never been excited for daycare or for school, but he is so excited for this year of kindergarten.”

The timer sounded off and like little, adorable robots her sweet students picked up their stations and settled all the items they were using back into place. She thanked her current group, and she marked where the current four were so she could pick up where they left off on Monday.

The group of students hurried to the carpet, sitting cross legged on the colorful squares. “All my friends love to sit quietly on a primary color while we wait for story time!” She had a lilt in her voice that wasn’t quite singing, but perhaps close to it. She watched as the students giggled helping each other remember what a primary color was as they all shifted around the rectangle looking for a spot. What they didn’t know is it helped spread them out a bit and would help them keep their hands to themselves while they waited much more patiently than any six-year-old had a right to.

“All my friends love to be super quiet,” she whispered putting her fingers to her lips. “We have to pick our friend who will lead us through the opener for the day,” she reminded them.

They all put their fingers on their lips; their eyes hopeful of being chosen. She pulled a popsicle stick from a cup and pulled out the name. “Milo,” she grinned. “Would you like to lead us today?” She always gave them a choice. Sometimes the little ones were much too shy.

He grinned shyly. “Okay, Miss Bee.”

She sat on her chair; a rocking one she thrifted from a local shop. A lot of her classroom was that way. A teacher on a budget. Organizing drawers and old bins that were a little worn and loved. Bookshelves that had been found at garage sales and even her office chair wasn’t brand new.

But she loved it and her students loved it too.

She watched Milo walk up to the board where she had everything spelled out for him and she waited patiently for him to read. “Today is Friday, October 5th,” he said softly. “We have art at specials time today,” his voice got quieter with his nerves of speaking in front of his whole class. A small snicker started and she turned to the culprit narrowing her eyes at him not harshly, but enough to make him know she meant business. The little one silenced himself and she returned her attention to Milo.

“Isn’t Milo doing a great job?” She whispered to the little one beside her.

Milo pushed his shoulders back a little and continued. “Today we’re going to start Char-lotties Web.”

“Good job sounding that out Milo!” She cheered. “It’s a tough name. It’s called Charlotte’s Web. Can everyone say that?”

She waited while everyone repeated, and Milo continued.

“It’s the thirty-seventh day of school.”

She watched all the little ones with rapt attention on their classmate while he read through the daily schedule. This was his second go around and by the end of the year she anticipated he would do it with ease and no anxiety. He was adorable, just like the rest of her group.

“Before we have our little math lesson we’re going to read the first chapter of Charolotte’s Web. Based on the title and the picture on the front does anyone have any guesses about what the story is about?”

A fleet of hands shot into their air and she smiled. She was a lucky teacher. “Hadley, do you have an idea?” She asked.

“A spider,” she wrinkled her nose.

“I know,” she agreed dramatically. “We all know how much Miss Bee hates spiders.” The class giggled as she pulled the book from the shelf. “Can anyone tell me who the author is?” She asked holding the book out for everyone to see clearly. “Raise your hand!” She added as they all opened their mouths to say it.

The little hands fluttered into the air again and right as she spoke Amara’s name, a loud bang sounded from outside. The little ones screamed; their eyes filled with horror as they were clearly terrified by the loud noise. It even spooked her so she went to investigate.

“Shh, shh,” she whispered. “It’s okay,” she placed the book on her chair and headed toward the window. Instantly her eyes were drawn to the construction crew next door dropping piles of wood and building materials. Fuck, she mouthed to herself and if the kids weren’t so freaked out, they might have noticed her saying the bad word in the reflection of the glass. “Don’t worry everyone, it’s just the construction workers.”

“Construction paper isn’t that loud Miss Bee,” Mae frowned. “It sounded like an elephant fell down!”

The rest of the class giggled, and she smiled. “I suppose it did,” she hummed. The noise continued. The sound of trucks backing up and the like. It was going to be a long few months of work and trying to teach at the same time. “Construction workers, my love, not paper,” she corrected. “It’s people who make buildings and things.”

They chatted behind her to one another offering instances in which they had seen construction done in their neighborhoods or that their uncle was a construction worker. Or that even they had helped their mom and dad with some work around the house.

For a few moments she considered her next plan of action. She briefly turned to the schedule Milo was reading. A quick detour and impromptu lesson on future career options, math in motion, and communication skills, could be managed and even helpful if it meant she could convince her class there wasn’t anything to be scared of nor would they need to find the noise distracting if they knew what it was and could work on tuning it out.

“Alright guys and gals, why don’t we put on our coats and see what our neighbors are up to?” she said with the air of going on an adventure while she grabbed her own coat from the small thin closet behind her desk. It housed her school bag, her coat, and her lunch bag.

The kids all hustled excitedly to put on their coats while she called the main office to let them know she would be outside with her class, and she was bringing the walkie talkie in case of an emergency. Tyler was line leader, so he led the group behind her, and her line ender was Zara making sure the back half of the group was okay too. They walked in a straight line and followed one another at about an arm’s length. A trick she learned in student-teaching so her students wouldn’t want to touch one another with excitement.

They headed outside and they played a couple rounds of eye spy as they made their way up the path toward the parking lot. She turned around, walking backwards grateful of her early morning outfit choice today was pants with comfy shoes and not a dress and her favorite wedge booties. “All my friends love to be really careful near the parking lot, and listen to Miss Bee so no one gets hurt,” she reminded them. “All of my friends know they have to listen to Miss Bee or they will not have show and tell this week.”

They all zipped their lips and threw away the key as they walked toward the fence where the playground’s baseball field turned into the driveway next door where the construction was beginning. The little ones all oohed and ahhed over the big trucks and pressed their faces against the chain link fence as the materials were brought into the area.

“Wow, that’s the biggest truck I’ve ever sawed,” Brayden whispered.

“Ever seen, my love,” she corrected gently. “Okay, who can tell me one thing they’ve never seen before and have a question about?”

Immediately hands flew up into the air but before she could call on anyone, they were interrupted.

“They told me we were going t’have a young crew for this job, didn’t think everyone would be this young.”

She turned her attention to the man approaching the fence and she felt her heart flutter like a hummingbird against her chest. The man was tall, sinewy from being part of a construction crew and doing all the manual labor, she was sure. He wore a T-shirt with the company’s logo across the front Under Construction that stretched perfectly over muscular pectorals. A white hard hat was on top of his head but she could see swirls of brown hair peeking out from underneath. There were the standard work boots and pants of a construction worker on his lower half but that was all she really noted of his body.

It was his face that drew her in. His eyes, his smile, even his eyebrows seemed to catch her interest. His face had the slightest scruff on his cheeks and over his top lip. He was deadly handsome and she momentarily forgot she and her little ones were the only thing there. “We’re not here to work,” Mae giggled.

She shook her head and smiled. “No, sorry we can’t be part of the crew,” she said apologetically.

“We were going to do math, but Miss Bee wanted to show us the scary noises,” Milo explained bravely.

“Ah,” he caught her eye. Did his smile grow? She must have imagined it. Was it hot out? It was early October, and the nice fall breeze was blowing a chill in the air, and she felt like she was about to sweat through her clothes and wish she hadn’t worn her jacket. Holy shit, he was hot. “Are you Miss Bee then?”

“It’s actually Miss Bird,” Kai explained. “But Miss Bee is a nickname.”

“Bird,” he repeated. “Nice to meet you, Miss Bird,” he held his hand out. “I’m Harry, Harry Styles.”

“Harry,” she answered. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Styles.”

He smirked at the formality but held her hand an extra second longer before letting go. Surely, she imagined that.

Harry saw the gaggle of children and the woman alongside them about five minutes prior as they approached the fence between the playground and the building site. “We got company boss,” Niall smiled while he moved some of the materials across the site with the help of his forklift. Harry turned toward the group and was in awe of the woman that could wrangle a group of little ones like that so effortlessly. As he got closer he became a little more entranced by her. She was all bright colors, her pants were firetruck red, and her jacket was a bright pink. She had an off-white bandanna or wrap in her hair of some kind that came to a knot at the top of her head from underneath her hair. She was beautiful. Obviously. Harry thought she was lucky she didn’t teach older kids because they would probably get nothing done staring at the pretty woman for hours on end. She looked so young too—no way older kids would take her seriously. But the little ones seemed to adore her, waiting patiently while they looked on with fascination.

She held a walkie-talkie in her left hand while she shook Harry’s hand during introductions.

He couldn’t keep his eyes off her smile and the way she looked fondly at her students while he introduced himself.

“We didn’t mean t’scare you all. We’re putting in a new fire and police station here t’keep you safe,” he explained to the little ones. “The noises y’heard were us putting the materials down.”

They all watched expectantly, waiting for him to continue. “Could they ask a question?” She smiled sweetly at him. “They’re waiting for you to say they can ask questions; it’s kind of a thing in the classroom,” she wrinkled her nose so cutely as she explained.

“Oh—right, yeah,” he chuckled. Harry wasn’t totally sure how a group of six-year-olds could have questions about what very little they had seen thus far, but he couldn’t wait to hear it. “Of course...do y’have questions?” Harry felt a little silly not seeing what inquisitive little minds she was molding behind the fence barrier.

However, all twenty hands shot into the air. She giggled and shook her head. “We aren’t getting to all the questions,” she laughed. “Mae, you can start,” she said.

One of the girls in the middle turned to Harry. “Why’s your hat white?”

“It means I’m in charge of everyone over there,” he explained. “It’s called being a foreman.”

“So, you’re like Miss Bee, she’s in charge of us,” Mae reminded him.

“Yes, just like Miss Bee,” he agreed catching her eye. She bit the inside of her lip and glanced at her line of students.

“Milo, do you have a question to ask?”

The boy toward the end of the line looked shyly at Harry and he grinned before looking at his feet. He mumbled something toward the ground and Harry took a few steps closer, bending in front of the fence. “Can y’repeat that for me, lad? I didn’t catch it.”

“How do you know where to put stuff?” He asked.

“We have maps and outlines of where stuff is going to go,” Harry grinned.

“It’s kind of like the maps we made of towns, remember?” She prompted. “Where we would put the school, the houses—”

“The ice cream shop!” Someone else called out from the other end of the line. The rest giggled and she nodded with her beautiful, ever-present smile.

“Yes, the important things if you recall,” she glanced at Harry apologetically. “One more question, then we have to head back inside for snack time.”

“But Miss Bee! I have a lot of questions!” DJ pouted.

“Me too!”

“I do too!”

The chatter started to become a little loud and overwhelming as they reminded her that they had many questions for Harry and he smirked at her as she shook her head. “All my friends love to turn on their listening ears and turn off their voices,” she practically sang. Instantly, they were soundless.

“Wow,” Harry murmured. “I should try that on my crew.”

They all giggled, and she smiled at him apologetically once more. “Zara, do you want to ask your question?” She asked.

“How do you know what tool to use?”

“It depends on what y’have t’do, but I had t’learn which tool t’use by going t’school,” he explained.

“You went to school too!?”

“That was another question!”

“It doesn’t count!”

“Miss Bee!”

“Hey, hey, hey! Hocus pocus,” she called gently.

“Time to focus!” They all silenced themselves.

“Wow,” Harry was in awe of her. That was almost superhero powered in nature.

“Mr. Harry, could we write our questions down to have you answer?” Tyler asked.

“That’s a great idea Tyler, but Mr. Styles has to—”

“I would love t’do that,” he offered immediately and caught her eye. “This project is going t’be a while,” he explained.

“Mr. Harry,” Janie asked pulling on his pant leg through the fence. “Could you fix Miss Bee’s desk? It’s all crooked,” she explained.

“Janie, my love,” she said softly, her cheeks turning the same shade of pink as her jacket. She was adorable and Harry was putty already. “That’s not very polite to ask. Mr. Styles is working,” she explained. “It would be like asking you to do your adding while you’re doing your sentences.”

Harry grinned almost apologetically as he caught her eye once more. “I could take a look at it,” he offered. “When does school get out?”

“Oh, that’s okay—”

“We line up for the bus at three-fifteen. That’s when the clock looks like this,” and they all turned to put their hands together to the left of their bodies, surely to mimic the hands of the clock where indeed, it would look like three-fifteen.

Harry grinned. She was a cool teacher to teach all these inquisitive little minds. “All my friends love to thank Mr. Styles for taking time out of his day to teach us about construction work,” she said knowingly and looked at him once more.

“Thank you, Mr. Harry,” they all sang.

“I said Mr. Styles.”

“But Mr. Harry is like a nickname, like you Miss Bee.”

She rolled her eyes. “Alright, Tyler, are you ready to lead?” She asked and waved to Harry.

As the line departed, he watched until he couldn’t see the pretty woman or the cute little ones any longer before he turned back to his job site. Niall rolled over on his forklift once more and popped out of the seat to stand beside him. “How was kindergarten?” He asked.

“They’re funny,” he smirked. “And very cute.”

“The kids or the teacher?”

“Both,” he shook his head, smiling to himself. “Get back t’work,” he mumbled and headed toward the other workers.

Harry watched the little ones boarding their buses and their teachers wave from below the overhang of the drop-off port as the kids left for the weekend. He could see the bright red pants and pink jacket from where he stood by the fence once more and a few students called out to him. “Bye Mr. Harry!”

She turned instantly and found him there. Harry’s crew was also leaving (trying to beat the buses before they got stuck behind) but Harry was without his hat now, waiting by the fence. He waved to the little ones, feeling a bit like a superstar with all the eyes that looked over at him. But he swore he could feel the pretty woman’s eyes boring into him more than the others.

He hopped over the fence now that the children were on the buses and parents had their children in cars. “Hi,” he smiled as he approached her. Her pretty lips parted ever so slightly in surprise. Her eyes scanned his face for recognition as to why he would be approaching her after the kids had left. “M’here t’look at your desk,” he explained.

“Oh!” She shook her head. “That’s okay. It’s Friday. I’m sure you have better plans than—”

“I don’t mind,” he offered with a shrug.

“Um...” she swallowed. “It’s really alright, I don’t want to put you out—”

“S’very okay, Miss Bird,” he teased. “M’happy to take a look.”

She nodded. “Okay, well...we just have to get you signed in at the office.”

“Sure,” he smiled.

“Do you have your license?” She asked.

He nodded and followed after her. They stopped at the front of the office, one of the older women greeting and going through the spiel of being a visitor. “Will you be here often?” She asked. “We could do a background check to make things simpler.”

“Oh, he’s just working nex—”

“That would be great, thank you, ma’am.”

She pressed her lips together, but Harry swore he could see the corners of her mouth twitching upward. Harry quickly filled out the information on the form and once he had a visitor tag on the front of his shirt, he followed her down the hall. The school was definitely older. It was part of the reason the safety buildings were getting an upgrade. The whole town was a bit older. They were silent as she led down the hall, her arms crossed over her stomach, he followed her down a stairwell and they stopped as a custodian greeted her.

“Hi Miss Bee, staying late today?” He asked.

She nodded. “Yeah, I think so. I’ll keep my mess to a minimum,” she promised.

“Not a problem Miss Bee,” he was a bit older too. Clearly, he was used to seeing her around after hours. Late? How late did she stay? It was Friday. Didn’t teachers race to get out of the building on Fridays?

“I like to set up my classroom for next week,” she explained. “It’s a little easier to have everything planned out.”

“Well, I won’t keep you,” he promised.

“You really didn’t have to do this,” her cheeks flushing pink once more. “I’m a little embarrassed,” she explained unlocking her classroom door.

“S’nothing t’be embarrassed ‘bout. M’happy t’take a look.”

“I guess...but they shouldn’t have said anything. Six-year-olds. You can’t tell them anything.”

He chuckled. “S’fine,” putting his hands in his pockets as she pushed the door open. It felt like being transported into another world. A bright, colorful, sunny world. There were windows overlooking the yard separating the building and a soccer field. There were string lights around the top of the wall, along with floor lamps placed around the room as well. There was almost a separate room for her colorful carpet where an old rocking chair was situated in front of the whiteboard. On the other side of the room were her play items for the kids as well as tables and little chairs for her kids. There was artwork and displays of all her students’ work around every free space of the walls. All organized and stapled properly at regular spaced intervals.

Harry would have loved being her student, he thought, but he was glad he could get to know the pretty lady as she was right now.

At the back of the class near another door, there was her desk. Underneath one of the legs was a stack of old books. Harry frowned. It was very crooked.

“It’s really not as bad as it looks. I like to believe I’m pretty resourceful so that was one of the easier fixes of the classroom.”

He sucked his cheek a bit and nodded. “Is there anything else you’d like me t’look at?”

She shook her head. “No, really. It’s okay, this is too much as is,” she said hurriedly. It was hardly anything. “You’ve had a really long day.”

But as if her classroom knew that Harry was there, the wooden sign above the door they just walked through fell off the wall. He smirked while her cheeks turned another shade redder and she winced practically with her whole body. “M’happy t’look around,” he offered. “You’re here late?” He asked and knelt beside her desk inspecting it. It was old. A fairly solid wooden structure but Harry could see it was made mostly of cheap particle board. There was no way that this was up to the fire code instructed by the public buildings in town.

“Uhh...yeah. I have to make copies and cut some stuff out for my new bulletin board,” she explained. “I also like to do a little extra cleaning on Fridays. The custodians have a lot to do so I try to do my fair share,” she went to the little closet behind her desk built into the wall. The door stuck a bit as she pulled it open and she hung her pink jacket up and pulled out a broom and disinfectant wipes.

Harry nodded. “I’d be happy t’help.”

“Oh, that’s completely unnecessary,” she assured him. “I can’t imagine you really want to be here after a long day of manual labor on a Friday no less and—”

She watched Harry for a few moments surprised by how kind he was to a complete stranger. “Could I take these drawers out?” He asked.

“Um...” she swallowed. “If you can open them.”

He tilted his head at her with a smirk. “Is there a point t’having this desk?”

“I found it at a yard sale. It’s kind of my thing,” she explained. “Most of the shelves, chairs, et cetera are from yard sales. I’m a teacher on a budget kind of thing. They just need some TLC. I say I’m going to do it over the summer, but I tutor a bunch, babysit, and whatnot so I haven’t had the time. This is my fourth year of teaching so I’m hoping this summer will be different now that I won’t be preparing lessons much now that I know what I’m doing for the most part.”

Harry watched her as she spoke, a gentle smile on his face. God, she was cute. Without her coat, she was wearing a blue almost denim looking shirt and she looked so adorable he wanted to pick her up and twirl her around like she was a princess. “I think you’re a superhero,” he told her.

Her face flushed once more and she turned to the tables lower than any normal table Harry had ever sat at (especially for his tall frame) and she knelt to wipe the surfaces. Harry turned to the desk letting her settle with the compliment he offered. He tugged the drawers out, with effort. A piece of particle board splintered a bit but given the drawer was empty, he didn’t think she would mind much. But Harry would rather build her a new desk altogether. “I don’t sit much,” she added.

“Mm,” he hummed. “Shouldn’t take an act of God t’get a drawer open.”

He lifted the desk off the books once the weight of the drawers was out of the way. He carefully moved her piles of items and organizers onto the floor taking mental pictures of her setup. There was a framed photo of her and a man and his heart almost gave out at the thought that the pretty girl was taken. He glanced at her wiping the desks, her left hand bare of any rings. It didn’t necessarily mean anything, but there was no way he could ask if she was taken. He gently placed her laptop on the back counter behind him and then tilted the desk onto it’s side.

The weight of her gaze was prominent on his face, but he ignored it, focusing on her desk and hoping to make her life a little better. “S’this little screw for the leg.”

“Yeah, I figured. It was too stuck for me. I tried using some WD-40 but I didn’t get much luck.”

He pictured the pretty girl in her bright red pants trying to get her desk to unstick. Resourceful she was. “I think I have some in m’car, I’ll go pop out.”

“Let me prop this door open,” she offered and went to the classroom door labeled with a giant two. Just follow that path up,” she pointed. Harry hurried out waiting until he was out of her sightline to all but run to his car and back. He returned with a selection of random tools he grabbed and walked back to her classroom.

“—shouldn’t stay late on a Friday,” he hated how jealous he was of a man’s voice. “Come out with El and I,” the voice offered.

“Louis, I’m exhausted. I will come over tomorrow. I can’t even imagine talking to the two of you right now and I love you guys.”

“I know,” the voice sighed. “Do you need help?”

“No, I’m good.”

“Course not.”

“Shut up,” she rolled her eyes.

“That isn’t very kind of you Miss Kindergarten,” the voice answered with attitude.

Harry cleared his throat as he returned. “I gotta go, Louis. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Don’t stay too late, Miss Bee,” he sang.

She continued sweeping and glanced at Harry’s tools. “You really don’t have to do this,” she reminded him.

“Happy t’help,” he assured her. She seemed pretty adamant though. He wondered why she felt so uncomfortable asking for help. His eyes dropped to her left hand once more looking for a tan line or any indication she was taken. “M’a big fan of teachers,” he promised. “Had some really good ones,” he explained.

She took a deep breath and nodded. “If you’re sure. I don’t want to be a bother.”

Harry wondered who on earth made this saint of a woman feel like a burden. Her desk was old and rickety. It was hardly rocket science to fix it and it wasn’t even that heavy. The drawers stuck, which Harry would tackle next, but otherwise what was so difficult? He sprayed the screw at the foot of her desk and gave it a spin, but it didn’t work. He pulled a wrench from his toolbox and tried to get better leverage. “There we go,” he mumbled to himself as the screw unstuck. He untwisted it all the way and sprayed both the screw and the hole. He twisted the metal piece back in and smiled feeling glad he made her life a little easier. He stood, tipped the desk back to it’s rightful position. He put weight with his hands to ensure all the legs were the same length and he wiped his hands on his pants.

“There’s a bathroom through that door—everything is low because of the kids though,” she pointed toward the one right near him.

“Thanks bird,” he smiled and headed through it. Whoops, he thought to himself.

He rinsed his hands with soap quickly admiring the bright, neon green paper that said you should sing Happy Birthday to yourself twice to get the germs off while washing your hands. He imagined she heard happy birthday all day long and found that adorable.

When he reentered her room, she was already putting things back, including trying to get the sticky drawer back into position. “Oh, I can do that, love. Don’t hurt yourself,” he hurried over and grabbed the drawer from her grip.

“Thank you so much for doing this, this is so lovely,” she frowned. “Can I pay you or something?”

“Absolutely not,” he chuckled. “S’hardly anything, bird,” he assured her and jimmied the drawer back into position. “Y’can keep doing your thing. I’ll put everything back.”

She bit the inside of her lip. “Thank you,” she repeated.

“You’re welcome, seriously. S’hardly nothing.”

“No but it is,” she assured him. “I don’t mean to dump this all on you but my ex-boyfriend made it very clear that I put too much effort into my job and that all the extra time I didn’t get paid for didn’t mean anything because caring so much didn’t get me anything more. But I love this room and all it’s little quirks but this means the world to me, honestly. I want one of those Pinterest perfect classrooms in some ways, but I don’t think I’ll ever get it because this school is old and I don’t have the money, time, or energy I’d like to fix a lot of the things I probably need to. I don’t think I’m explaining it quite right and I’m sorry I just dumped all that on you, but I don’t think anyone has ever done anything this kind for me.”

Harry felt bad that his assumptions were correct, but he loved the way she let all of that out. He listened to every word with bated breath grateful for the word ex. It didn’t mean she didn’t have a current boyfriend, but it put into perspective why she was so overwhelmed by Harry’s little help. “Well, Miss Bee, m’at your service,” he assured her.