Pinky Promise (En)

Flashback 2

I'm in my hotel room in Dublin, trying to get ready for a night out with the group. My hair has decided to rebel, as usual, and I'm close to giving up. But instead of focusing on it, my mind wanders.

To him.

Niall.

Every time he's around, I want him to talk to me, to look at me. I know it doesn't make sense but I can't seem to stop thinking about him lately—it's like a switch has flipped, and suddenly I'm seeing him in a way I never did before.

"Snap out of it, Delilah," I mutter at my reflection. "It's just a passing thing. A harmless crush."

But no matter how much I try to convince myself, it doesn't work. Every time I hear his voice or catch his gaze, my stomach flutters. It's ridiculous. He's my friend. That's all it's ever been. And yet...

Then there's Harry.

The thought of him makes me stop fidgeting with my hair. Normally, he's the first person I'd talk to about anything. But this? This feels different. I can't bring myself to say it out loud. Not to him. Not when Niall and Harry are so close.

So, I push it down. Keep it to myself.

The door to my room swings open suddenly, and I whirl around, startled. Harry strides in, completely at ease, holding a bottle of soda.

"Ever heard of knocking?" I say, pretending to be annoyed.

"Why? It's not like you have anything to hide," he replies, a smirk playing on his lips.

I cross my arms. "Maybe I do. And even if I didn't, it's called manners."

He leans back, completely unfazed. "Come on, it's me. You know doors don't really apply to us."

I roll my eyes, though I can't help smiling a little. It's Harry. He has this annoying way of being impossible to stay mad at.

But then he studies me, head tilted slightly. "You look... off tonight. Like something's bugging you."

"Nothing's bugging me," I reply quickly, turning back to the mirror.

Harry, being Harry, doesn't drop it.

"Uh-huh," he says, standing up. He moves closer, leaning against the wall beside me. "You've got that look. The one you get when you're overthinking something big. So, what is it?"

"What look?"

He makes an exaggerated face, squinting his eyes and pursing his lips dramatically. It's so absurd I can't help laughing.

"Stop it, you idiot," I say, trying to shove him lightly.

He doesn't budge. "So? What's going on? Big plans? A secret rendezvous? Or..." He pauses for effect. "Is it about someone?"

I freeze for a second, then try to laugh it off. "Harry, you're ridiculous."

"No, wait!" He snaps his fingers. "That's it, isn't it? It's a boy. So, who's the lucky guy?"

"No one," I say quickly, too quickly.

"Oh, that's exactly what people with crushes say."

"Harry, I don't have a crush!" I protest, but my answer is a little too quick, my voice a little too high-pitched.

He narrows his eyes, a mischievous glint appearing. "Hmm, interesting. So, it's someone we know. Liam? Too serious. Zayn? Too mysterious. Louis? Oh, wait, imagine you and Louis. That would be a disaster."

I can't help laughing, even though I'm dying to make him stop talking. "You're ridiculous."

"Wait... Niall?" he says casually, like he's throwing it out as a joke. His gaze sharpens as he watches my reaction.

My heart skips a beat.

"No," I blurt, way too fast.

Harry pauses, then his face lights up with a smug grin. "Ohhh... interesting."

"Nothing's interesting," I say, turning away, trying to avoid his gaze.

He steps in front of me, leaning down slightly. "It's Niall, isn't it?"

"No!"

"Delilah, you're a terrible liar," he says, laughing. "You've got that look every time he's around—the goofy smile, the red cheeks, all of it. Honestly, it's cute, but you really need to work on your poker face."

I grab a pillow and throw it at him. "You're unbearable!"

He catches it, still laughing. "Alright, alright. No need to panic. I'll keep it to myself. But on one condition."

"What condition?"

He holds up his pinky finger. "Pinky promise. No crushes, no dating, nothing with each other's friends. It avoids drama, you know?"

I furrow my brow. "That's ridiculous."

"No, it's strategic," he says with a grin.

I look at him, hesitant. "Are you serious?"

"Completely. Come on, pinky promise."

I sigh but hook my pinky around his. "Fine, pinky promise."

Harry chuckles softly, almost as if he knows this promise won't last. He steps back toward the door, still smiling.

"Come on. Niall's probably wondering why it's taking you so long to get ready," he says as he leaves the room.

And then I'm alone again, my head full of thoughts I shouldn't be having.