𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐄𝐉𝐔𝐈𝐂𝐄, harry styles

𝟎𝟒𝟗. 𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐞𝐥

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𝗱𝗮𝗿𝗹𝗲𝗻𝗲𝘄𝗶𝗻𝘀𝗹𝗲𝘁
1 𝗁

𝕳arry stays seated, nervously fumbling with the rings on his fingers. His glance turns around the restaurant hoping to catch sight of her as she walks in but to no avail because the moment he thinks she's the one walking into the dining hall, it turns around to be a different woman with short blonde hair.

Sighing, he settles back into his chair.

He rubs the side of his nose, tapping his ring clad fingers on the table whilst his gaze wanders taking in each and every person dining there tonight.

Two days ago, Darlene had texted him about this relatively quaint restaurant a bit away from the hustle bustle of the main city and he had immediately responded in affirmative.

She still works smartly, he had thought as he'd typed out a reply, a sense of excitement bubbling inside of him.

And now as he sits here waiting for her to show up, he can't help but think — what if she stood me up? What if she changed her mind last minute? It's Darlene, it's very much possible with her.

But she wouldn't just blow him off without so much as a text.

She's not that cruel.

Right?

Wait no, she's not cruel at all. What am I even worried about?

He hunches over the table and fixates his eyes over the cutlery spread out in front of him.

The polished silver fork and knife gleam under the dim light surrounding them, people's chattering sounds like an echo around him his mind slowly taking off the plane of reality and diving deep into the hypnotic allure of the shining cutlery.

It shines so delicately against the cream white tablecloth, so precious against the dampened innocence of the fabric.

It lures him, cautiously detaching him from reality, from the scene around him.

And he finds himself happily engaging.

Until a hurried voice perfected in the Queen's English — an accent native to nowhere, it had to be bred into you — with a twinge of the classic Cockney interrupts his thoughts, dropping his soul back into his body.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry I'm late".

He straightens up and turns his head watching her make her way to the chair opposite, her boots clicking against the grand marble flooring.

He does a quick take of her outfit — a white summer top donned in curling laces and black flared pants gracefully touching her silver heel strap covered ankles.

Her bright blonde hair glimmer against the low white-yellow light mix of the room, eyes apologetic and scanning as she herself quickly glances down at his black button up and wide legged pants, swiftly looking away to hide her reaction.

He pulls his chair back and springs up from his seat, a smile already forming on his lips courtesy to her magnetic presence.

"It's fine", he extends his arm for a quick side hug, just as she brings her hand up to shake his.

They freeze, his right arm extended out wide and her right hand awkwardly dangling between them.

"Uhm . . . . uh", Harry immediately slips her palm between hers, the simple touch enough to rattle his brain off its course.

They shake each other's hand, both of them avoiding eye contact lest they give themselves away because the warmth of their skin coming in contact with each other's reaches straight down to their bones, butterflies running rampant in their bodies.

Quietly, Darlene pulls her hand away and takes her seat, Harry following suit.

She shakes her head, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"I'm fifteen minutes late. God, I hate London traffic", she huffs frustratedly.

Harry only stares at her with a little smile, mesmerised by the fact that she's sitting right in front of him. That she's talking to him and oh how beautiful she looks, with her golden hair and her cherry lips and elegant frame and the cute head shake she always does when she's annoyed.

She's right here. And she looks unreal.

Darlene glances up at him at his lack of response and with another annoyed shake of the head, grabs the menu.

"Have you ordered yet?".

"No, I was waiting for you".

"Right", she nods to herself, "I'm sorry. I really am", she looks up, apologetically.

He waves her off, the smile firm on his face.

"I told you it's fine. 'Tis not like I have somewhere else to be".

At that, her eyes quietly assess him. Running back and forth between his eyes trying to read between the lines because there is so much hidden there.

Dismissing it, she clears her throat.

"Let's order then".

***
this chapter was originally supposed to be divided into two parts but now that i'm actually writing it ( and i am NOT good at writing convos ) there will be 3 parts instead, part 2 & 3 will be published asap so pls bear w me :,)