invasato [h.s]

50

lucky number 50...

the song is for when they're in the diner, you'll see .

//

Elaina Basset

"Angela's texted me three times." I look down at my phone as I walk through the nightlife of Williams, Arizona with Harry.

"Tell her you're in your room and you were sleeping." Harry responds, walking next to me on the sidewalk. "That's what I'll tell the guys."

We parked the car down the street and decided to get out and walk. It's nice because we're hidden. There's lots of people out, no one is looking at the two of us. We're just as blended as everyone else here.

I laugh a little. "Guys and girls don't work the same." I say, "Angela will probably come into my room regardless of what I say and realize I'm gone."

"Who cares? We'll find an excuse, it's just Angela." he says, then his attention turns to across the street of busy cars. He points, redirecting my attention. "Look."

I follow the direction he's pointing in, my eyes nearly blinded by a neon sign on a building across the street.

'Mr. D's Route 66 Diner' —the sign reads in bright neon.

"Hungry?" Harry asks.

I nod with a smile. "Always."

He smiles back, and without hesitation, he grabs my hand. He brings us to the curb of the sidewalk, watching the street for oncoming cars. Instead of keeping my vision on the street, I'm caught by another view—him. I watch as he bites his lip in focus, looking back and forth and waiting for the perfect moment. The lights are illuminating his skin in bright colors...it's a sight I could recreate on a canvas, but I'd never fully capture the beauty of Harry.

He squeezes my hand once, then looks at me with a glowing smile.

"Ready?" he hints at running across the road.

Nope.

But I squeeze his hand back.

Gripping my hand, he pulls me off the sidewalk. I put trust in him as my feet carry me as fast as they can, laughing as we run across a busy street.

Somehow, we make it, the neon of the diner growing brighter and the music growing brighter. It's like a party in that little diner, I can feel it from the outside.

He lets go of my hand and places his hands on my shoulders, behind me but leading me to the door—which he opens from behind me.

The music hits my eardrums like I'm walking into a nightclub. What I notice right away visually is that it's modelled after some 50's diner, like it was pulled from Grease. People talk at a loud volume, people dance. I'm in awe, brows raised and lips parted open as I take it in.

"Woah." I mumble in mesmerization.

He chuckles, leading me further into the diner trying to find an empty booth for the both of us. I cant help but look around as we walk. This place is packed, even for a small town.

And everyone looks like they don't have a care in the world.

"Here." he says from behind me, urging me towards an empty table. Matching the outside of the building, the table is blue and the booth seats are pink. I expect to sit across from each other, but instead he sits and pulls me into the seat right next to him.

Right there, much like the ink on my shoulder, my stomach is overtaken by butterflies, Dreamboat.

"Cool place, right?" he says while I turn my head to look at his face.