Something Bad Is About To Happen || h.s

FIVE

Gold Rush by Taylor Swift
"Eyes like sinking ships
On waters so inviting
I almost jump in"
***

Harry Styles

So, I made it to the pub.

Enchanted, I think the name of it is. Louis mentioned my date owned it. Impressive.

It's very pristine for a late night pub in the middle of New York City. The white brick walls blending nicely with the dark wood bar top. It seems like you would find straight out of Snow White. I mean if all the dwarves were alcoholics.

Anyways.

I'm nervous as fuck, I feel so out of control with my nerves. As usual.

This is my second scotch and I'm wondering if she'll even come.

Louis said that I'll know it when I see her. Apparently her name is Mirabelle. That's such a pretty name. I just know she's gorgeous.

Do you think she'll be as nervous as me?

Fucking of course not, Harry. You're insecure as fuck. You haven't met a single person more insecure as you.

She's probably the complete opposite of me.

Confident, sure of herself.

My hands are glued to my glass, as I wait for my date to arrive. I'm so fucking nervous. How am I supposed to do this? Shit, I forgot how nerve-racking waiting can be. What if she doesn't show up?

Why would she show up?

I start to bounce my leg nervously. The negative thoughts swirling in my mind. My brain trying to convince me she isn't going to come. Because who would want to date me or love me? I'm impossible to love apparently.

I look around the small pub and that's when I feel it. A connection from across the bar. I catch eyes with a beautiful woman. Her perfect amber eyes pulling me into a trance. I study her goddess-like features. The exact angles of beauty and arch of her eyebrows.

My eyes slowly trace down. Her high-waisted jeans sitting just right across her waist. Her long legs ending with thin heels. How can someone be so fucking hot?

Her shirt and choker are making my heart rate increase and my mind going to places it shouldn't. (also blood maybe going to places it shouldn't at the moment.)

Harry. Calm. The. Fuck. Down.

Then I notice those angelic legs start confidently moving towards the bar. In my direction. Is that my date? She's even more amazing than I could have ever imagined. She has to be disappointed in her own date already. I'm nothing compared to her. Compared to anyone.

The expression on her face is neutral as she stands in front of my chair. Her chocolate eyes, matching her luscious, shiny hair, slowly examine me. From my curly hair falling just above my shoulders covered in a sleek patterned dress shirt to my black ripped jeans paired with my gold chelsea boots. Another wave of insecurity is rushed over me. Is she judging me? Probably.

I knew I should have fixed my hair more and put more effort into my outfit. She probably thinks I am not invested in this date. Especially when she looks like...that.

You are a fucking idiot, Harry.

I stand up from my seat, trying to rub off the sweat coming from my hands.

"Hello," Her hushed yet powerful voice says, sounding like music to my ears on a perfect summer day. "are you perhaps Harry?"

"I- uhm, yes, sorry. Bit nervous, but that's me. How did you know?" I stutter, my cheeks turning red out of embarrassment. She probably thinks I am a dork. Nice start, wanker.