CAMDEN KENT
Sometimes I wondered if maybe I was too harsh on Brandon for cheating on me, when the truth was, I constantly had someone else on my mind almost the entire time we were together. It was no one in particular, and I could never quite put a face on the man, but I knew he wasn't Brandon, and I knew he loved me the way I wanted to be loved.
When I was in school, I used to imagine that I'd come home from a day of lectures to a boyfriend who would smile at me the second I walked through the door, not just spare me a glance while he was playing video games with his friends online.
I wanted a man who just once would ask me how my day was and really listen to the words coming out of my mouth, simply because he was actually interested in what I had to say. I wanted him to interrupt me with kisses, or drag me to the bedroom because he had already been waiting all day and couldn't anymore.
Though, from a young age I learned very well that life is anything but a fairytale. I learned that princes were a made up species of men to make women miserable as they spent their lives searching for them. I read about chivalry, but I never experienced it firsthand. I opened my own doors, I bought my own flowers when I felt like it, and I made a point to remind myself that I was trying my best when no one else did.
And then I met Harry Styles–the most unexpectedly chivalrous man of them all. The man who made me breakfast almost every single morning, the one who knew how I liked my coffee down to the last sugar crystal, the one who remembered every single thing I ever said to him because he was always listening.
Now, he was the one whose hand I was holding as we walked into a cafe to have a late lunch together, after spending the whole morning sleeping in...or at least staying in bed. He wasn't a prince by fairytale terms, but he was the only thing I could have wanted.
"I was thinking we should probably go to the grocery store today, but I'm not sure if it's worth it to buy a bunch of shit just for a few days," he spoke to pull me from my thoughts, holding my waist from behind as we waited in line to order.
"Yeah, but won't it be expensive eating out for every meal?" I looked up at him as I leaned back into his chest.
He smiled into my hair, dropping a kiss to my forehead. "You need to stop worrying about my money."
"Well, someone has to," I muttered. "You spend like crazy."
I was trying to look at the menu to figure out what I wanted, but I couldn't concentrate when he locked his arms around my neck instead, shuffling forward in line with me. My smile was borderline embarrassing as he pressed his lips to my cheek with non-stop kisses, and I realized that we were those people; the ones you look at and grimace because they can't just keep their hands to themselves for five seconds in a public setting.
"Why do you smell like me?" He asked, sniffing my neck until I laughed and scrunched my shoulders from the way it tickled my skin.
"I forgot my perfume at your house, so I stole yours."
"Hm," he got another whiff, delivering one last kiss to the corner of my jaw. "Smells good, actually."
I rolled my eyes, turning my head to laugh at him. "Narcissist."
"Never claimed otherwise, darling," he pecked my lips as the barista called us up as the next in line.
Along with our coffees Harry asked for some kind of club sandwich, and I went with a classic grilled cheese with the assumption that he'd share with me. While Harry paid, I grabbed the number for our order and found a place to sit outside when the weather was too nice to ignore.
