“Where are we going?” I asked timidly as I sat as rigid and upright as possible.
“A little Italian place.” He confirmed. “Is that alright?” His voice held a sarcastic glint to it- he knew I didn’t have much of a choice.
“Yes.” I barely squeaked out.
“Come on Lo,” he sighed reaching out and resting his hand on my thigh. I watched as it dominated the space; it was so large and bony. “Try to have fun.” He pleaded. I nodded my head not wanting to disobey him, he had already gotten upset enough when I refused to kiss him.
“Tell me about yourself.” He asked as we sipped our drinks. He had gotten me some wine and I had reluctantly agreed to drink it. He had opted for water. I shrugged my shoulders and he scolded me. “I just want to get to know you.” He whined. I took another sip of my wine and noticed I had finished over half of the large glass. I brought my glass down glaring at him. “How about a game of quick-fire?” He suggested.
“Do I get to ask you questions?” My ears perked up as I asked him the question.
“Anything.” He said leaning backwards. He ran his hands over the tops of his thighs. I observed his biceps flex then brought my gaze up to his lips: his tongue darted past his lips as he wet them in his own saliva. “Shall we start?” He asked. I nodded tentatively. “How old are you?” This question surprised me a bit. I don’t know what I was expecting but I wasn’t expecting this.
“19.” I stated slumping back into my chair more. He nodded this time and opening his mouth to speak.
“Are you in school?” I shook my head. I had always wanted to study English Literature but had taken a year off to work and whatnot. “Favourite flower?”
“Roses.”
“Dogs or cats?”
“Cats.”
“What’s your last name?” It seemed so trivial.
“Daniels.” He repeated my name and I smiled at the way his lips quirked up.
“Do I get to know your middle name too?”
I giggled at how ridiculous this question was. As far as I knew, this date could be disastrous and I would never see him again. “Marie.”
“Lauren Marie Daniels? I like it, very proper.”
“Well let’s have yours then.” I said sipping my wine. I was much, much more relaxed.
“Harold Edward Styles.” He said shaking his head.
“Awww!” I cooed mockingly. “Well if that isn’t just the cutest name.”
“Don’t let it fool you.” He warned. I shifted in my seat not knowing what it meant entirely. “Favourite colour?”
“Purple.”
“Favourite singer?”
“Ed Sheeran,” I answered then leaned forward quickly changing my mind. “No, Louis Tomlinson!”
A wide smile lit up his face. “You listen to Louis Tommo?” He asked and I nodded my head slightly. “Funny,” He trailed off yet I didn’t understand it. “Do you work?” He asked leaning forward just as the waitress arrived. I hadn’t even glanced at the menu.
“She’ll have the fettuccine alfredo and I’ll have a steak, rare.” His eyes never left mine as he ordered and his lips turned up into a smirk when he said rare. My stomach turned as I reached for the wine needing something more if I would be in his presence for much longer. “She’ll have another glass of wine as well.” He said watching as I brought the empty glass down to the table. I looked up to the waitress and smiled sheepishly at her embarrassed that I had drained the glass in less than 15 minutes. When she left I turned to Harry surprised that he had known my favourite meal.
