Incandescent | H.S

Part Forty-Two: Fixing Methods & Flirtatious Manifestations

"Are you sure you don't wanna stay in? Watch a movie and snuggle?"

You held your phone between your ear and your shoulder with a tilted head. Harry's attempt to sway the two of you from going out tonight. You'd texted him that morning, requesting that he meet you at a secluded bar tucked away in north London near his home.

With the week he'd had, he wanted to tuck himself into bed next to you and listen to you talk for hours. But no, you were insistent on grabbing drinks and having a night out. 

"We're going out, mister."

"Mmmk... Only if I can get drunk and put my hand on your knee under the table like the scandalous man I am."

"That is by far one of the tamest things you've done to me under a table."

He scoffed at the other end of the line. "Pfft, as if. Name one remotely non-tame thing I've done."

"Well, there was that time you almost fingered me-"

"Woah, okay-"

"-And the vibrator at my birthday-"

"Point taken. Don't think I won't do it again." He warned teasingly.

"Cheeky. I'm wearing pants tonight, so sorry to disappoint."

"You're wearing the pants tonight, huh?" He changed the meaning completely and you went with it.

"You know it."

"Stunning girl. I best get my gown out then."

"Borrow one of my dresses if you'd like."

Funnily enough, Harry was at his house, scanning the range of dresses on your side of the wardrobe. He spotted his favourite blue silk one and clenched it in his fist longingly.

"Don't joke. The blue one's looking really tempting."

"You look good in blue."

It was as if you weren't joking at all about him wearing your clothes and it made his heart warm. No, it wasn't a joke. You took him seriously, adored how adventurous and experimental he was. He swore he fell more and more in love every day.

"I'll see you in half an hour, angel."

"I can't wait. I need a drink."

And while you definitely needed a drink post your hectic workday, it was more to reseal the bonds of your relationship. Things had calmed down between you, but there were lingering feelings of worry and withdrawal. You were still shaken up from your encounter with the fan who threw coffee at you, and Harry was still working through the ever-pressing turmoil of finishing his album.

He was still so wound up, so anxious. He hid it well and you didn't know if it was because he was hiding it from you as so not to worry you any longer, or because he genuinely was working through it. Regardless, you worried and wanted his album to come easily so he could have a breather.

You definitely needed a night out. To destress, to flirt, to be playful like you both loved and often did. Forget about foiled songs and coffee-stained shoes. You had something up your sleeve that you hoped would derail any and all negativity and reignite the relationship you longed for. One that was simply golden sun and cherry heels.

You swiped on your red lipstick, the same one you wore when you first met him. It wasn't the only thing making a reappearance from that night. The same two-piece suit hung perfectly on your body, a small lace top underneath to dress it up. And, of course, your cherry heels.

After double-checking your appearance in the mirror, you hailed a black cab to the curb outside your apartment and made your way to the bar you'd booked a table at.