He looks right into my eyes as he says this, our green eyes locked, my cheeks red in flattery, his in embarrassment.
Our moment is abruptly over when the waitress places our milkshakes on the table, followed by two baskets of salted fries and two hotdogs, covered in grilled onions, grated cheese, and ketchup.
My mouth waters at the sight and smell of the food, my mind wanders to the last time I had eaten, it was Tuesday today, the last time I had an actual meal was Friday.
The reason as to why I had not been eating was placed into my mind, and had made me lose my appetite.
I stared down at the table, the food no longer appealing to me.
Harry picked a fry from his basket and moaned, "I swear these get better every time." He looked to me, "Hazel? Are you all right? You're not eating."
I stare at him, his green eyes glazed with concern. Looking into his green eyes, innocent to the morbid thoughts going through my mind, I decide to dismiss my grave thoughts and just eat the goddamn food.
His hand reaches across the table, grasping my own, and a shot of electricity buzzes through my body. Everything becomes clear as I stare into his emerald eyes. All the stress goes away, the self hatred, the breakdowns, the paranoia, the anxiety; everything. Everything disappears with his touch, and I find myself craving more.
The rough pad of his thumb rubs circles around the smooth skin on the back of my hand and I am speechless; nothing has ever been so comforting, so right.
I give him my biggest smile, "Yes, I'm alright." I reply, popping a fry in my mouth.
Harry grins back at me, and we eat our food, every mouthful melting in our mouth, talking and laughing, harder than I've ever laughed before, at stories we tell each other.
We sip at our milkshakes, the creamy sweetness washing down our food. Harry places his cup back on the table, sighing in contentment.
"Oh my god, Hazel, look!" Harry says excitedly, pointing in the direction behind me, his eyes wide.
I turn around, to nothing. Just the restaurant, waiters and waitresses rushing around the tables, taking orders and bringing out foods and drinks.
I turn back to Harry, who is leaning over the small booth table, a cheeky smile plastered on his face, as he dips his straw into my tall cup, sipping my milkshake.
"Harry!" I exclaim as he bursts into a fit of musical laughter, his eyes squinted shut with one hand on the table and one on his stomach; the sounds causing my insides to tingle with adoration.
I join him in laughter, our eyes tearing up and our stomachs aching. We take in turns drinking the remainder of my milkshake, pulling faces at each other while the other had the straw trying to get each other to make blue heaven milkshake come out of our noses.
He stands up, walks to the jukebox, and begins playing an old upbeat tune I have never heard, before walking to my side of the booth, holding his hand out with a glint in his eye, showing he is up to something.
"Hazel, you you do me the pleasure of joining me in dance?" He asks, a hopeful smile spread across his face.
"I-I can't dance." I state, not wanting to look stupid in front of Harry.
"I can teach you, its easy," He pouts, "Please?"
He grins and takes my hand, gently tugging so I slide across the seats and stand gracefully next to him, the tip of my head reaching his chin, and again I feel the shot of electricity jolt throughout my body.
