Never Give Up: Harry Styles/One Direction Fan Fiction

19

Chapter 19

Finally giving up on the idea of finishing my hair, I just ruffled up what I had done and rushed out of my room. I stopped at the top of the stairs, carefully peeking my head around the corner hoping not to be seen. There he was, utter perfection, standing in my living room chatting with my mother. 

"So, Harry, where are you two going?" My mother asked nonchalantly. I saw Harry shift positions where he was standing. Something about his posture revealed how nervous he was, and that surprised me. Why was Harry nervous about taking me out? It's not like I was even anyone important, and he didn't have to impress me. 

"Well, between you and I," Harry started in his heavy British accent, "I thought it would be nice just to go to dinner. I've heard there's a really nice place on Melrose Avenue called Hatfield's." I felt my mouth drop open. Hatfield's was an extremely expensive restaurant in West Hollywood. There were tons of famous actors that frequented the place. I'd been there once when I was around 11 for my aunt's wedding reception. It had been gorgeous, with the sloped oak ceilings and dimmed lights facilitating the creation of a romantic atmosphere. I decided I shouldn't keep Harry waiting any longer, and I popped out from behind the wall and bounced down the stairs. Harry's eyes widened as I came into view. I was wearing a sheer white lace crop top over a buttoned up, sleeveless, black chiffron tank and some jeans and a pair of black heels that I had hastily picked out. That combined with my disaster mess of hair, I didn't feel like I deserved that reaction from him. Nonetheless, Harry greeted me with a light peck on my cheek as he wrapped a long arm around my waist. 

"Don't be back too late," my mother called to me as we turned to leave. 

"You look fucking fantastic, broken hand and all," Harry said as soon as the door clicked shut. "I would've told you sooner, but I didn't think your mum would approve of my language." I let out a loud laugh, mostly because it was true; my mother would've shot him. We rounded the corner of my house to the driveway where a sleek black Porsche Boxster S was waiting for us. I swear, Harry never ceased to surprise me.

"Where'd you get this?" I questioned him, holding my nub of a cast out, pointing to the car.

"I didn't want to take a cab," Harry glanced over at me, a big smile plastered on his face. Of course he'd just up and bought an eighty thousand dollar car. I was beginning to get the feeling that Harry liked how I reacted to him, always surprised at everything that he'd become so accustomed to. Harry opened the door for me, and I slid down into the low black leather seat. As I waited for him to get into the driver's seat, I stared at the luxurious interior of the car. It had so many features, I seriously began to wonder how people even focused on the road anymore. Once inside, Harry started the ignition and the engine hummed quietly. 

[Author's Note] Play the music in the sidebar while you read this section:)

"Could you figure out how to work this thing?" Harry asked, gesturing to the touch screen stereo as we backed out of the driveway. I nodded and began to fiddle with it. After a few minutes, I was able to get Harry's iPhone connected to the stereo, and I cranked up the volume as Wrong Feels So Right by Carly Rae Jepson played, letting the bass radiate through the car as we drove down the interstate toward Hatfield's. I started belting out the lyrics, and after exchanging a brief smile with Harry, he joined in. We lasted the entire car ride that way, jamming out to all the most popular songs, and doing mini seat dances during the instrumentals. We arrived along Melrose Avenue, small oak trees and rose bushes running along the road. Harry pulled up to the valet and handed over the keys before coming around and opening my door for me, and helping me step out of the vehicle. He led me inside through the small front door of the white building, the sound of my footsteps ricocheting off of the high ceiling. It was just as I remembered it. Harry spoke briefly with the hostess before we were led into a large, quiet room. As we walked through the great wooden doorway, I realized there was only one table in the entire room. Candles adorned the white tablecloth where only two places were set. The far wall of the room was covered with shelves holding various wines, although we wouldn't be drinking any. The room was lit with dimmed recessed lights running along the ceiling. It was beautiful.

"Your server tonight will be Jessica," the hostess said, as she placed our menus in front of us and walked away. We sat down, and not more than a minute later, a girl who I guessed was Jessica appeared. 

"Good evening," she looked Harry up and down, paying me no attention whatsoever. "What can I get you to drink tonight?" 

"I'll have Pepsi," Harry said, his deep voice smoother than butter. 

"I'll have water," I spoke up, clearing my throat. Jessica finally looked over at me, shooting me a dirty look before leaving. 

"What are you thinking about?" Harry asked nonchalantly, as I came out of my own angry thoughts about our rude waitress, and I realized that I'd been silent the entire time.

"It's not important," I responded, looking up from my hands which rested gently on the table. 

"It clearly is," Harry said. "You seem upset, so tell me. What's bothering you?" I didn't want to tell him. I was afraid that I would come off as petty or jealous, and I didn't want him to think of me that way. 

"The waitress," I said quietly. I looked up at Harry again, our eyes locking. 

"That's it?" He laughed heartily. "Really?"

"I know it's petty," I commented, finding my voice. Harry cracked another smile, his lightheartedness infecting me until we were both smiling at each other but saying nothing.

"I don't know what to order here, honestly," Harry commented thumbing through the hardbound menu.

"The Bourbon Chicken is good," I said offhandedly. I glanced up at him from my own menu.

"Wait, so you've been here before?" Harry seemed to be genuinely surprised, his green orbs locking on mine. 

"Yes, Harry, I might not have a million dollars, but I'm not poor," I laughed at his astounded expression. "Actually, when I was here, I was only eleven, so it doesn't really count." Harry cracked a huge smile, and I could almost see the gears turning in his head, clearly amused by whatever crossed his mind.

"You Americans surely do start dating early," Harry struggled to contain himself, trying not to laugh at his own joke. I couldn't hold in my laughter. I bent over howling until I ran out of breath and just sat back clapping, not making any sound at all.

"It wasn't my date," I said after I caught my breath, still giggling like an idiot. "It was actually my aunt's wedding reception."

"It was still somebody's date," he said, smiling widely. Jessica finally came back with our drinks, setting them gently on the cloth. Instantly, the lighthearted feeling in the room disappeared.

"What would you like to order?" She asked, again, completely ignoring me and talking only to Harry. I exchanged a this-is-what-I-was-talking-about glance with Harry before he ordered.

"How about two orders of Bourbon Chicken to go," he said. Jessica wrote down the order, looking a little dejected about him leaving. I could not have been happier that Harry had decided for it to be to go. 

"Where are we going to take the food?" I asked him as soon as Jessica disappeared again. 

"Don't worry," Harry spoke quietly in his thick accent. "I've got a plan."