The Timeline [h.s.]

83.

 April 6th, 2019:

In hindsight, it hadn't been Claire's best idea, that of inviting Harry to her house to cook him dinner for their second date.

In the spur of the moment, right after their makeout session against her bedroom's door, with his texts begging her to tell him when they'd get to see each other again, writing to him that he could come to her house because she wanted to cook him dinner, had seemed like a bold thing. Something so adult and sexy. Something that might make Harry like her a bit more, because he would see she also had some talents, apart from acting - since he was a man who cooked for himself and others, as he had stated more than once.

And he had been very positive about the suggestion, and had agreed immediately.

And in the moment it had felt amazing, she had felt so good.

But then the clarity of what she had suggested had settled on her, and she had grown a bit more anxious as the hours separating her from the X day passed.

Her, cooking? Cooking for Harry?

God, what had she been thinking?!

She was not that type of girl, never had been. Her most complicated recipe was that of a grilled cheese sandwich - a pretty mean one, to be fair, but still a grilled cheese sandwich. She had also prepared it for him, once, if she wasn't mistaken, but she had no recollection of him ever eating it and showing his appreciation for it. And that ought to be a terrible sign, didn't it?

But she couldn't cancel on him. She couldn't just pick her phone up and tell him that, haha, she had been playing around, she couldn't cook, what did he actually want to do instead? She felt like she would've disappointed him pretty badly.

Harry had sounded enthusiastic about her proposition, ever since she had suggested it, which hadn't been shortly after their first date - and their very heated makeout session, which, if Claire thought about, managed to make her weak in the knees and she had to sit down and press her thighs together to calm herself down. Phew.

It still didn't feel real, to her, the fact that she had gone on an actual date with Harry. A date with a romantic purpose. A date that had ended with them sharing heated and passionate kisses, kisses that had felt so right something inside of her seemed to have finally slotted into its right place.

And, even more, it didn't feel real that the date had gone so well. She had been so nervous about it in the days, and then the hours leading to it. And, sure enough, at first both her and Harry had been a bit embarrassed and unsure on how to conduct themselves and break the ice. But once they had managed it, everything had gone smoothly and naturally.

They were still themselves, after all, and they worked together. They had always clicked, they had always had chemistry. And perhaps, they had simply been mistreating it and forcing it down, when they should've let it thrive and develop as naturally as it should've.

But wasting thoughts on that was useless; the past was the past, and the present had to be lived to its full potential, so that the future could be bright and beautiful and - as Claire's heart leaped to hope and her stomach contracted as she imagined it could be - full of possibilities for her and Harry.

She was still scared shitless, was still sure she would find a way to fuck things up, or that Harry would wake up, one day, and realize that she wasn't all that he had imagined her to be, finally walking away from her as she expected everyone around her to do. Make no mistake about that.

But she was trying to tame it down, as best as she could, because the more she experienced this new chapter of her life, the more she realized how good she felt when Harry was mentioned, or when she interacted with him. And he was a top class act, when it came to reassure her and remind her why, exactly, she had gotten the biggest fat crush on him (and perhaps something more, let's be honest) when she had chosen to let him into her heart.