Soon, My Friend (Currently Editing)

Difference: Vol. 2

The weather was perfect which made the setting all the more special. I learned that the food buffet was set (they had loads of chicken wings, my, oh, my) and that Harry and his band mates had already congratulated Johannah and - now her husband - Daniel. But Zayn was missing, though.

In other words, I was not supposed to try to make any good impressions, I could sit down and enjoy the drinks and food, but not find Zayn anywhere.

A big marque was set up for the reception. Harry and I sat outside it for quite a while, giggling like two teenage girls as we whispered things we should not whisper, and touched each other briefly on places not fit for a public gathering. Harry stopped me as I stroked his bulge growing harder, tenting his  trousers.

I remember his utterly teasing smirk, saying to me in a mocking voice: "There are people in all ages here and we're in a wedding, for God's sake. Billie Hampton, you should behave yourself. And I like your dress, it'll look very good on the hotel floor."

Harry was clever wearing sunglasses. The sunlight forced me to squint my eyes and I could feel that they were damp, which meant I constantly had to rub away running mascara.

I assumed Harry noticed the sunlight got on my last nerves. So after he had placed his fancy hat on the top of my head, I could finally see properly. I pointed at Louis who came out from the big white party tent and whispered to him with laughter in my throat: "Alright, so that's James Bond,"

Then I turned around and nodded in the direction towards Niall and Liam who played Croquet left to us. Sophia, Liam's date, stood beside and texted someone on her phone.

"Liam and Sophia are like the Beckhams. And then there's Niall who's that random rich white kid."

Harry laughed with his hand raking through his hair.

"You're quite amusing." he said, only moving his lower lip - trying to hide his smirk.

Harry and I were on our way home from the after party several hours later. I was exhausted and lushed up - Harry stressed and pretty much sober. Finally, 'cause he had created a fucking hubbub only an hour ago when I tried my best to convince him that we should take a taxi back. But he wanted to walk.

  "I like walking with you, reminds me of the first time we kissed, it reminds me of you."

Besides, he'd given Cal the responsibility for all his belongings (even the fancy hat), except for a piece of the wedding cake he'd just swallowed. But was so easy for him to say. He didn't have new heels that gnawed.

The curly head with whipped cream on his upper lip, cake crumbs in corners of his mouth, yeah, well, it wasn't him who had spent much of the evening with an introspective owner of a hand shop from Leeds.

   "Ah, bird, c'mon, get your ass in gear!" Harry shouted with a fake and strange American accent as he walked ahead of me on the pavement. He looked pointedly at his watch while he picked out cake from his molars, as if we were behind some schedule. I staggered forward on the high heels - my eyes fixed on the ground.

The introspective hand shop man and I were placed next to each other at the very end of the large table. The couple who were supposed to sit opposite us had cancelled at the last minute, hence we were at the mercy of each other's company through the whole feast. I had asked him everything I could come up with about Leeds. Then everything when it came to his hand shop. It was a rather exhausting job, really, especially when he mostly just answered yes or occasionally and no.

And at that point we hadn't come further than the first dish out of four. It turned out to remain exactly four hours left of the reception.