The "Biggest" Fan (EN)

17.

As we walked away, I could still hear Meghan talking into her phone, but thankfully, we were moving too fast to catch any of it.

As we climbed the stairs, I nudged Harry with a grin, "I get now why you were running from her. That must suck, dealing with girls like that all the time."

He let out a long sigh. "She'll do anything for fame. And what pisses me off is that her followers actually think we're friends."

"Aren't you?"

He rolled his eyes. "I've met her, like, three times - all in equally charming situations. So, no."

"Probably just means she's really into you," I laughed, trying to lighten the mood.

"Not my type."

"Why?" I asked, "I mean, I understand why, but she's not bad-looking."

"I'm more into brunettes," he smirked.

There was a moment of silence as my brain chewed on that. And then it hit me. "Oh, so you mean Lottie?" I said, almost too loudly.

Harry's head whipped around, frowning. "What? No."

"Really?" I couldn't help my surprise. "I thought it was obvious that you liked her..."

"Why would you think that?" He looked genuinely confused. Maybe I really misjudged the situation.

"Hmm... Let's see. You collaborate with her, you spend a lot of time at our house. And Lottie is one of the prettiest people I know," I pointed out.

"She is pretty," he said with a nervous laugh, "Guess it runs in the family.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Never mind." He pushed open a door, and we stepped into a quiet room. He shut the door, and the silence was weirdly calming, the kind of quiet that lets you breathe.

"So... It's the 'no-dating' thing then?" I asked, my eyes wandering over the dusty paintings and bookshelves.

"Of course not."

"Then what's the deal?" I pressed. As much as I hated the idea of Lottie dating someone, I was a bit baffled why anyone wouldn't want to date her.

"Fuck, do I really have to spell it out for you?" Harry rubbed his face in frustration, pacing across the room. I just stood there, watching him, "You come to this stupid celebrity event, all dressed up, incessantly smiling, looking like a fucking Greek god, and you really expect me to look at anything else?"

"Huh?"

"Then, of course, you start with all your sarcastic-flirty little comments, and I try to distract myself by all means, but you're still there, with those eyes. It's enough to drive me insane."

His words half-sunk into my foggy mind, but I was honestly too tipsy to fully make sense of it. What the fuck? "Stop messing with me," I chuckled, feeling my balance sway with each word.

"I'm not." He stopped pacing, his eyes locked on me, sharp and green as ever.

"Yes, you are."

"Why would I lie about this?"

I struggled for words, feeling my face heat up. "Well... I don't know," I tried to think as hard as I could," You never said you liked me!" I replied, my voice a pitch higher than usual.

"Oh, really? Did I ever say I didn't want to kiss you?" He increased the volume, adapting to me.

"You don't."

"I do."

I snickered, slightly annoyed. Was he really toying with me like this? "Fine then. Prove it," I dared him, grinning, sure he'd just brush it off.