Quesoftheday: Name a boring common happening/plot you find in almost every story.

“Check it again, two suites were booked, not one.” I stop myself from yelling at the hotel manager when Louis grabs my wrist down the counter.

I look at the tight grip and then at him, uttering a fake ouch raising up my eyebrows before he leaves my hand, mimicking my eyebrow expression.

“I’m sure there has been a mistake from either of the side while placing this hotel booking and I’d like to talk to the respective person who’s handling this about legal complaints if the mistake is made by any of you.” Louis boldly tells looking at the manager, keeping a calm look on his face.

“Let’s go.” He tells not looking at me and starts walking out of the hotel lobby.

“Two bed deluxe suite has been booked instead of one bed two deluxe suites! Whoever has done this, is going to be paid by death.” He slurs and I swallow the lump imagining someone’s funeral because he’s always serious about his words, that’s the main problem about disliking him sometimes.

Nobody keeps good food in funeral, so what's the point? By good food I mean pizza so I'm not interested.

“At least we’re not sharing beds.” I whisper to myself before entering inside the room, followed by an eye roll session.

“Whisper measured.” That’s what he tells turning around at me and then walks towards one of the rooms.

Holy hell! How did he even listen when it didn’t even reached my less than half feet away ears?

“Both of the rooms are the same, I’m staying in this one, you stay at the inner one.” He tells and I nod as if he's a lion who's saving his little baby's life inside the cave by guarding outside.

I take my luggage and walk inside the room. I don’t bother to take off my shoes before jumping on the bed with my tired body. I take a long breathe and decide to leave a text to Oren.

*Everything going as planned so far in the hell with the demon. –Reen*

*I knew you’d be able to make it, all the best. Make sure you’re not whispering much. His ears are the sharpest. –Oren*

*Already proved, never mind. See you in heaven. Take care and don't touch my ice cream if you don't want to die before you marry. – Reen.*

After replying to her last text, I close my eyes and take a long breathe. Tickling my toes in the air, I smile at my own when I find my sentient mind thinking about Louis.

Oren told me that he is an haughty lifeless person to work with but his haughtiness is too funny. He doesn’t know how cute he looks when his disruptive hair falls on his forehead, he doesn’t even realize how funny he looks when he always says until the letter f, while saying what the fuck! I don’t get it, why he makes it such a great deal when it comes to curses. It’s not like he’s a toddler so he isn’t allowed to curse.

A knock on the door interrupts me and I trip over the blanket while hastily getting down of the bed.

“You just can’t pass a single day without tripping over anything, won't you?” I whisper yell to myself before I hear someone clearing throat.

I quickly open the door and my eyes pop up watching the blazing person standing in front of me. It’s really illegal to look so much beautiful just by untucking the button down from his pants. The black bandana over his head is pushing off the hair from his face. Maybe he's so fond of bandanas and I'm getting fond of him with bandanas.

How many types of beauty a person can pull out in a short time interval just by some silly style hacks? Ask Mr. Tomlinson.

“Are you alright?” He snaps me out of my messy thoughts.

“Y….yeah.” I say more like a question being confused.

“Well I was thinking……………..” He clears his throat and starts coming forward me avoiding my presence from him there in a short distance.

I step backwards as his forwarding steps and my heartbeat fails to sync.

“It’s already evening and you don’t have much work to do for today, neither do I.” He stops when the back of my knees touches the edge of the bed and looks at me with his seductive blue eyes, sending more weakness down my knees.

This is totally a new feeling and I can't remember feeling it before. It's a kind of nervousness, with something inside my stomach and low body temperature.

“So I was thinking…………” My breathe hitches when he lowers down his head to reach the level of my face which is a bit lowered due to bending my upper body slightly backward.

“Thinking maybe you can shove this little dead bug from your head and have some own time to discover the city.” For the first time I see him smirking, the only expression I’ve seen in his lips until now rather than lips pressed in a thin line.

“B……..bug?” I ask widening my eyes.

“Yes bug Miss Glena.” My lips apart when he chuckles and his hands touches the loosen strand of hair hanging on the right side of my face.

After watching the little yellow and brown little living being pressed between his index finger and thumb, all I could understand that I’m standing on the bed, running my fingers in my hair crazily and screaming at the same time like a maniac like I’m stuck inside the bug’s throat.

At the next moment Louis is on the bed, one of his hands pressed over my mouth and the other one grabbing my arm.

“What the f……..what are you doing you think? You’re in a hotel room with me and you’re screaming like I'm fu…………....” My cold blood calms down when his hand slowly slides down my lips.

“There was a freaking bug in my freaking hair and I was freaking out because of that freaking fact! Anyone would freak out!” I yell looking at him controlling my breath while my voice shakes.

“None would freak out like you after knowing the fact that the bug is not on the hair anymore.” He rolls his eyes.

“And ewwww! You put that hand over my lips by which you caught the bug a while ago.” I stick down my tongue looking down when my stomach flinches at the thought.

“Miss Gleana!” He utters through his gritted teeth and looks at me after an eye roll. “You’re just impossible and your this side is totally new to me, I don’t get why you seem so unpredictable to me since the past few hours!” He whispers and then turns around.

Forgetting the fact that he was standing on a bouncy bed, he intends to walk away with firm steps but fails. He gets imbalanced on his steps and reaches to grab my arm again to prevent himself from falling down which doesn't help.

“Ouch!” That’s the word I only succeed to complete when my frame gets pressed under his toned body.

I slightly flinch in pain because of hitting my head against the headboard and look at him. I look away from him instantly when I notice his nose may touch mine if I move an inch. This is obviously not a good position to move or even breathe.

I sit up on the bed looking down being discomfited when he manages to pick himself up and finally his feet touches the floor. I keep tucking my already tucked hair behind my ears not knowing what to do. Lastly I look up at the door when I hear his footsteps.

“Oh someone fuck my life until it’s dead!” I coo looking up at the ceiling tugging up handfuls of hair. “Dear God, what was my sin that you gave me the same face as Oren’s so that one day my life would be cursed under the spell of this intolerable thing who’s unquestionably arresting named Tomlinson!” I cover my irritated face with my hands.

“Only a shower and a lot of selfies in the street of NYC and extra large cup of coffees can only fix my mood now.” I jump off of the bed, obviously tripping over the blanket again and walk to my bag to grab the dress to wear after shower. Undoubtedly, I don’t forget to lock the door before going to shower because the biggest bug of my life is in the room beside.

//

“Can I change my order please? Give me a plain cappuccino, not Frappuccino.” I request the guy in the counter to change my order.

After mouthing him a big thank you, I walk to an empty two seated table.

“Two seats, one empty and one drop dead gorgeous girl sitting on the other side, may I fill the requirements of this table in this exquisite evening?” I look up to see the person whose thick raspy voice has managed to cheese down so many words.

“If only rewarding the requirements to this table was your objective, I must say no.” I reply dramatically flipping the hair from my face, putting a slight smirk over my face.

The captivating green eyed tall guy grins a bit before he smiles looking down. He chuckles and stretches out his long tattooed arms to drag the chair, sitting in front of me. He leans forward, crossing his wrists down his chin. He pushes back his soft curls from his forehead and uses his sunglasses to keep them from falling again. His button up shirt is not even buttoned up and the white see-through T-shirt underneath it isn't enough to hide his tattoos underneath.

“Mr. Styles, Harry Styles, everyone calls me the name I mentioned first but my ears would be sacred enough if you call me Harry, nice to meet you Miss……………?” He asks wiggling his eyebrows.

“Call me Reen.” I shrug, not hesitant to reveal my real name. He's just a stranger in a new country and there's no problem with telling this kinky guy who definitely doesn't know Louis.

“Nice to meet you Reen. So you're not American I assume……………”

“Oh no! Pure British blood is running inside my veins.” I smile as I sip into my warm drink. "How did you......."

“Your attractive accent speaks for you, so what brought this British beauty here may I ask?” He asks taking the first sip of his drink.

“Well don’t you think you’re too much cheesy with each of your words and it’s quite impressive anyway.” I take a moment to giggle. “I……….it’s a business trip. There’s a confe…………..” I stop in the middle when his phone vibrates.

He doesn’t bother to pick it up in front of me and by his conversation I understand it’s his mom.

“Well sorry Reen I gotta rush, my mom is done with her shopping and I’ve to pick her up. And……………..” He bends over the table slightly and takes my phone in his hands. He gives it back to me after typing something.

“Girls feel insecure when they’re asked to give numbers so I gave you mine.” He passes the phone to me and then walks away, obviously after playfully winking at me. "I'd love to have some sips of coffee with you again. Can't deny I'd be expecting a phone call or text as well."

“Nice guy.” I sing to myself before getting busy with my phone, saving the number.