Read Part 1 first...

Harrison Osterfield x Holland sister!Reader (Enemies to Lovers!)

Summary: There has always been a constant clash between you and your brother’s best friend, but suddenly it was getting harder to hate him... Why?

Things were weirdly quiet after the incident at Tom's birthday. It occurred ike most of the family members had declared some knd of proxy war against each other. Tom was mad at you. He hadn't talked much since then. Mum was mad at Tom. She was utterly disgusted by how drunk her son was. And Tom blamed his drunken state on you (and Harrison). If you both weren't fighting like animals all the time, he won't have gotten drunk and spatted on by Nikki. Tom's personal reasoning reinforced his contention with you, so Tom was double mad at you.

Now you knew how others felt in the family. There's this weird dark thing lingering in the house when people aren't on good terms. That's exactly what your and Harrison's hatred must have made all of them feel all these years. But there was one more thing you were worried about apart from all this and again it included Harrison Osterfield. Involved much more straight-forward-ly.

When Harrison was leaving for his home after dropping the drunk, out of senses, fast asleep Tom Holland, he caught your eyes and smiled at you... Almost like you both were no longer enemies. And you grinned back at him. And then he left. The interaction left you with something melting within you and thinking about that made something freeze inside of you. Ugh...

And those butterflies were still there. And that fight or flight response. Damn. You had to choose one. You settled on the flight for the moment since Harrison Osterfield texted you... for the first time in a lifetime.

Just the next day's evening after Tom's failed birthday, two messages popped up in your notifications. Both of them belonged to Harrison. You would be absolutely fine if it was just one message because in that case, you would have directly read what he sent you through the notifications. But now when there are two messages, the fucking stupid phone chose to display '2 new messages' instead of the fucking message on the notification panel. And in no good day, you were going to open them and get a 'seen' tag below them. So you just swiped it off your screen, muted his notifications and ignored it.

Easy.

Not easy.

Harrison was standing right in front of you on Monday morning (four days after Tom's birthday). He was in your clinic, staring at you, asking you if he could sit down.

"Why are you here? If you want to talk, talk at home. Not here. It's my fucking clinic." You scolded him but he raised a middle finger at you. You were about to throw him out of the room if... only if... there wasn't a big ass, ugly burn blister on his middle finger, exactly above of where he wore his platinum ring.

He read your expressions and sat on the patient's seat.

"When did you get burned? And how?" Just a professional question.

"Er... Tried to hold a hot utensil off the stove with a cloth, but erm... the cloth caught fire. Kitchen accident. Three days ago." He said, watching you taking out a medicinal tube and sterilizing a needle.

Ouch.

"You're so dumb Osterfield. You could have caught the fucking house on fire. And why three days? It won't grow this gigantic if you came here or informed me earlier." You give him a teacher like glare as you dipped a cotton bud in some rubbing alcohol, then held his hand in yours and gently patted the cotton around the blister.

"That's what the text message I sent to you was all about."

Your face shot up to meet his freakishly icy blue eyes. It was the closest you have been to his face. His face was just a few inches apart, perfect for punching him hard... Or... There was no 'or'.

You averted your gaze back to his hand. "I-I missed it... But you could have told Tom, he would tell me---"

"So Tom is talking to you?" His voice sounded jealous.

"...Well, not really."

And he sighed. Jealous Osterfield.

You pricked the blister with the needle. He squinted his eyes but you were sure it didn't pain him. First degree blisters don't have any nerve endings.

"You could have visited some other dermatologist..." You trailed off. It was not even two years you were in your practice, didn't he have other dermatologists to check on it?

He didn't answer. And you didn't bother.

"... You look smart in the white coat." He said smoothly and you could feel his gaze on you. Your eyebrows twitched at his words.

"So you mean. I look like a fool in regular clothes?" You could taste bitterness in the back of your tongue. You were literally glaring at him.

"Jeez, Y/n! I was just trying to be nice."

You didn't react to that.

You were done with his burn. You secured the squeezed-out burn spot with a medic gauze and released his hand. The last time you held his hand, you were too anxious to even feel his touch. And now... You were wearing rubber gloves and that doesn't count as holding hands at all. You never held hands with Harrison. Never. You reminded yourself.

Everything became awkward within seconds. You refused Harrison to pay. You had never accepted fees from his mum or sister. It was kinda some unspoken thing between your family. But he decided to pull out those bills.

"I... You don't have to pay..." You spoke slowly.

"What? Really?" He boomed as if you were treating him special.

"I don't charge your family..." You shrugged. Meaning: he wasn't getting any special treatment.

"That's so nice of you," He was still beaming as he pushed the bills back into his purse. You gave him an unimpressed look. Because really... What's up with his monkey-like enthusiasm?

"I have to pay back for it. We should go for dinner tonight."

"What??" You spoke louder than you expected.

"What what? I asked you for dinner not to join me in some kind of crime scene... " He narrowed his eyes at you.

"No way, I will ever go with you on dinner..." You shook your head, giving him a stink-eye.

"I am not asking you on a date," He rolled his eyes.

"I don't care. I will not go out with you. And anyway, leave. I have other patients to deal with."

"You know your secretary will inform you if more came. It's early morning, no one's outside." He sat on the chair opposite to you.

"Just dinner. We can discuss how we'll win over Tom. What say?" He raised his eyebrows diplomatically.

"Let me think..." You touched your chin, pausing momentarily before blurting a "No!"

"Okay, whatever. Your own loss," He rolled his eyes again getting up and picking up the prescription paper, "We could have won Tom back..."

"No one should know about it..." You said after thinking for a while. He won't leave without receiving a yes from your end and right now you wanted nothing but him to be out of your sight.

"About what?" A smirk erupted at the corner of his lips. He can't even hide it.

You suggestively rolled your eyes, "About me going on a dinner with you."

"I'll pick you up at six---"

"I will kill you if you came to pick me up in front of my fucking family!" You snarled at him with gritted teeth. It was after all the matter of your reputation.

"So from where should I pick you up madame?"

"From here at six and now just... get out!"

He grinned and pushed the glass door open.

"And Y/n... don't wear that white coat just because I complimented---"

"Get out!" You threw a crumpled piece of paper at him but he rushed out before it could hit him. His loud giggles echoed from the hallway.

You sat there with your head resting on your palms, looking at your desk. A smile played on your lips... Prick.

***

Harrison Osterfield had a secret he shared with no one. Except for his tiny kindle- his obsession with romance novels and kind off imagining himself sliding through the plot of those books as the main character. His favourite trope was surely Enemies to Lovers. Right from Pride and Prejudice to The Hating Game to Carry On... and so on, he had read tons of books and imagined himself as a part of most of them. He would be lying if he ever said you weren't his number one choice for the role of his significant other. And right now he was lying on his bed, hands crossed beneath his head while he is staring at the ceiling, biting his lip.

There was surely something about this trope. Two people obsessed with each other, so much so that they can't even figure out that all day they are thinking about their arch-nemesis and slowly(without even realising) falling in love with them. But Harrison had already cleared Stage One. The realisation hit him when he saw you with your previous boyfriends, he realised that he wanted to be your exclusive centre of attention. He knew you were damn attractive and the looks and the attitude you gave him was freakishly hot. You. Were. So. Damn. Hot!

He would be bored with vanilla love stories. He demanded something tangy, spicy... one that will make his tongue tickle. So far his love-life was a failure because all of them were so plain and non-exciting. He craved for excitement. He craved for you...

He smirked looking at himself in the mirror. He was over-dressed. He was wearing a formal suit and a tie- the perfect outfit to annoy you(at least a little bit). He waited for you outside, leaning against the car scrolling through his phone. His ears poked up when your voice hit his eardrums.

"What are you wearing?"

He could clearly hear the irritation in your voice and his grin grew further. You stood in front of him in plain blue jeans and a simple pastel pink jumper with white training shoes and hairs tied into a ponytail.

"A suit. That's what it's called. Classy innit?" He looked at you.

"This--- You..." You snarled at him with gritted teeth unable to come up with any perfect reply. You took in a breathe, "You said it wasn't a date."

"It isn't," He shrugged.

What an asshole...

"So why in the hell you are wearing," you motioned with your hands at his outfit, "A suit and that too... with a tie?" You glared at him.

"Am I not looking good?" He said while dramatically fixing his perfectly fixed tie.

Your nostrils glared at him, you thumped your foot on the ground.

"I am not going out with you. I am not. Fuck you. Fuck you Osterfield," You swirled and tried to rush from the scene but he gripped your wrist.

"Okay okay. I am sorry, I was trying to piss you off..." He giggled but instantly clammed his mouth shut when he saw your face. You looked like you were about to cry. His left your wrist to cupped your face in both his hands.

"Oh my god Y/n. I am really sorry... I wasn't expecting..."

"It's not about you..." You smacked his hands away and took a step back.

It is about me and how I was unable to say no for this... date...

"And I am not crying." You screeched at him.

"I never said you were," He spoke slowly almost afraid to speak at all.

"Okay, whatever. We are not going out. Our outfits are too... the polar opposite." You snorted, trying to leave again.

"Wait!" He squealed. You rolled your eyes, folded your arms across your chest while tapping your foot on the ground. He removed his suit-coat and tie off and threw them at the back seat of the car. He folded the sleeves off his off-white linen shirt to his elbows.

"Is it fine now?"

You gave him a stink-eye but nodded in approval.

"Finee..." You uttered in a sing-song way, not even waiting for him as you sat on the passenger seat. He sighed and took his seat beside you. You were really not easy to impress, but he knew coconuts have a soft interior. The only problem was... it's just hidden.

Since you had held his hand in the crowded pub, hugged him tight at that night, Harrison's heart was on fire. It was that moment where he felt as if he was right there at the climax of a bloody romance novel. You were right there holding hands, hugging him but he was supposed to act as if it was all normal. Sitting in the middle of a room on fire was normal. Hell. No. The tension was blasting off the roof for him and the stakes were even higher.

Stakes. Right. You were also his best friend's sister. A best friend who was also mad at him for the current moment. How dramatic.

He stole glances at you from where he was sitting. Your fingers twirled around the loose curls that your ponytail failed to capture while your head was rested against the window. Your eyes were focused outside. He inhaled in a sharp breath and your attention diverted to him. Gladly he was focused on the road ahead at that moment. He could still feel your gaze on him and his heart pondered in his chest.

"Where are we going, by the way..." You asked, cutting through the thick silence.

"Er... erm..." He continued to look ahead, "You'll like it. Guess it will be a surprise..."He whirled his head and grinned at you momentarily.

"I hope it's nothing fancy. My current outfit won't suite that sort of place," You said looking ahead.

"Yeah."

A few moments later, you fished out a hand mirror and a comb from your handbag. You removed your hair tie and smoothed out your hairs, letting them loose.

"Can you drive a bit slower. I need to retouch my makeup..."

He obeyed.

"Not a date huh?" He quipped, a huge grin plastered on his face. You stopped applying your lipstick to look at him.

"Are you trying to flirt with me, Osterfield." You furrowed your brows as he bends his head sideways.

"You wish darling?"

You rolled your eyes again. "Just want to tell you, in case if you are flirting with me. It's not working."

"Whatever love."

"Stop with the nicknames!"

"As you say... madame." He busted out laughing.

You shook your head but couldn't fight the small giggle that escaped your lips.

***

It was an old school type of restaurant, not too fancy. You followed Harrison inside the it. It had some classy wooden interior and vintage look. So far, so good. Until...

"Hey, Harrison!... Y/n?"

That was Sam's voice. Your legs froze on the spot and Harrison stopped on the tracks too. Sam was sitting in the front table along with his girlfriend. His hand which he was waving at you froze in mid-air when he saw you and Harrison together.

He slid his arm down after a moment. Harrison placed an arm behind your back, giving you a gentle push. You instantly produced a fake smile and saw Harrison smiling too as you both walked towards Sam's table.

"Oh. Hi Sam... Wasn't expecting y-you here," Harrison tried to play cool.

"Wasn't... expecting you both too..." Sam trailed off the sentence but you exactly knew what he meant. Wasn't expecting you both 'together'.

"Haha..." You fake laughed, greeting your brother and his girlfriend with a hug.

"Sit with us..." El invited you both to join them.

"Er..." Harrison began to spoke, rubbing the back of his neck, "We don't want to... you know... disturb your date. We will just probably sit somewhere else---"

"Or even in a completely different restaurant," You interrupted him.

Sam tilted his head sideways, eyebrows furrowed. He didn't speak a word.

"No need---"

"Oh come' on," Harrison scoffed, cutting El mid-sentence, "You both enjoy. We'll just go..."

Sam's lips parted but before he could speak anything, Harrison grabbed your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours and dragged you out.

"...They-They were holding hands..." Sam whispered to El as you both left.

***

"Damn, Osterfield. Damn! Damn! Damn!" You cursed sitting back inside his car, taking in a breath of relief.

"Yeah. Damn!"

You both suddenly burst into laughter, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. The sound of your growling belly followed by his made you both stop and smile in embarrassment.

"I guess... We should just grab a take-out." Harrison suggested.

You both ended up eating a McDonald's take out in his car, laughing and talking about some embarrassing moments, comparing it with what happened in the restaurant.

"The one time I went to audition for this movie and literally it was in an abandoned building and oh my god it was just me and two other people. I literally thought I would get murdered or something but they still didn't give me the job." He cracked, sipping his iced coffee.

"Tis' nothing. You won't even believe..."

For once you forgot, you had to hate him. And it felt too natural. No butterflies, no fight or flight syndrome.

"I was also embarrassed when I... broke that mug of yours," He spoke slowly after you both had finished the meal.

"I feel bad for... over-reacting," You replied, averting your gaze from him to your lap. You couldn't make the small smile that was playing on your lips vanish.

You heard him gulp. A strange feeling engulfed your heart making you release a ragged breath.

"We... We should go home I guess..."

***

You reached earlier than you thought.

You both walked to your door. Instead of pressing the doorbell, you glanced at him. His dimly lit blue eyes danced between you e/c eyes. His eyes flickered down to your lips. His teeth captured his quivering lower lip as his eyes gazed back to your eyes.

"See you..." He whispered.

"Yeah." You released a breath, "See you..."

He pressed his lips in a thin line, taking a step back.

"And Harrison!" You yelled, stopping him, "C-come to my clinic tomorrow. I have to re-dress your bandage..."

"Okay..." He nodded, his gaze fixed on your face. He turned on his feet.

"Harrison!" You yelled again before he could open the door of his car and instantly clammed your mouth shut.

The air was too thick. You could hear your own heartbeat thumping in your eyes. Everything suddenly started feeling dizzy. The tightness your heart and the sinking in your stomach didn't make anything better.

Fight or Flight. Choose one.

He looked at you again.

"What?"

You could hear the hoarseness in his voice.

Fight or Flight. Choose one.

Fight or Flight. Choose one.

Fight or Flight. Choose one.

"Fuck it!" You whispered under your breath.

You ran towards him.

You flung your arms around his shoulders.

His heart exploded when you crashed your lips into his.

His mind wandered to... Trope counting...

Enemies to Lovers. Check.
Best-friend's sister. Check.
Belated Love Epiphany. Check.

Okay not belated love epiphany. But...

The way you were pulling his curls with your fingers, the ruggedness in your breath. The lingering taste of coffee. The way his hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you to flush into his pounding chest. The sloppiness of the messy kiss. The way you were pulling at his lower lip. The way your teeth-clashed, tongue battled. The smacking sound of your lips separating...

So hot.

So. Fucking. Hot.

"You are so annoying." You pulled his lower lip with your teeth, only to stop abruptly.

"You fucking..."

It was Tom's voice.

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