All My Love || Harry Styles

Chapter 30

The hum of city life faded behind me as the ornate doors of the hotel closed. A wave of artificial warmth washed over me, but it did little to melt the chill that had settled deep within since my conversation with Paul. I was desperate to escape into the refuge of my suite, but instead, there he was. Harry. His presence, familiar yet loaded with recent revelations, stopped me in my tracks.

"Lucy," he began, his voice soft and raspy, "before you say anything, let's grab a drink. It seems we both could use one."

Though initially resistant, I found myself nodding in agreement.

The hotel bar was surprisingly quiet. We slid into a corner booth, ordering our drinks – two glasses of wine. The mood between us was a mix of tension and camaraderie. There was so much unsaid, yet the need for an ally in the madness was clear.

"So, that meeting with Paul..." Harry began, taking a long gulp of his drink. "Madness, right?"

Rolling my eyes, I sighed. "That's one way to put it. Feels like I'm stuck in some weird reality show and everyone forgot to give me the script."

Harry chuckled; the sound genuine. "You and me both. But hey, at least in this episode we get to drink, right?"

A laugh bubbled up from me, surprising in its sincerity. "Always finding the silver lining, huh Styles?"

He winked. "Someone's got to."

Our drinks arrived, and for a while, we just sat, sipping in companionable silence, the noise of the bar a distant hum.

Harry finally broke the quiet, his tone more serious. "Look, I know I messed up. I wish I could've shielded you from all this crap."

I met his gaze, searching for any lingering deception. "You and me both, Harry. But wishing doesn't change things."

He leaned back, running a hand through his already wild hair, a move I'd seen countless times before when he was genuinely flustered. "True, true," he mused, "but at least we can drown our sorrows in a good drink and even better company"

Feeling a touch playful, I quirked an eyebrow at him, "Better company? Do tell. Anyone I know?"

His lips curled into a cheeky grin. "Oh, just a stunning, headstrong woman who never fails to leave an impression. Goes by the name Lucy, I believe?"

I playfully rolled my eyes, trying to hide the smile that threatened to break. "Ah, that Lucy. I hear she's quite the catch."

He leaned in closer, his voice dripping with playful mischief. "Word on the street is she's been known to forgive annoying pop stars when they make horrible mistakes."

"Must be a different Lucy to the one I know," I quipped, leaning in just enough so that our noses were almost touching, "because the one I'm familiar with is finding it incredibly hard to forgive certain pop stars."

As I pulled back slightly, Harry caught my gaze and held it, his fingers subtly brushing against mine on the table. The gesture, small yet charged, spoke volumes. "Maybe that particular pop star is hoping to change her mind," he whispered, the flirty tension between us palpable and electric.

I pulled my hand away, feigning indifference. "Hope is a dangerous thing to lean on," I mused, glancing at the bartender. "Another round, please."

Harry watched as the bartender prepared our drinks, a hint of frustration evident in his posture. "Lucy, I know I messed up, but..."

I interrupted him with a slight smirk, "A drink isn't an apology, Harry."

His gaze snapped back to mine, a touch of challenge in his eyes. "Then what is? Tell me."