H
I try- really, honestly I do- but I can't fight the urge. I go to stand up out of my seat, warranting a wary eye from what's-his-face over Bailey's shoulder and Louis' hand wrapping tightly around my wrist.
"No. Not yet. You gotta give her one song," he cautions, pulling me back down to sit just in time as B is spun to face me again. She gives me a small smile, and I attempt to return it but I can tell by the frown on her face I don't do very well.
"She can have as many songs as she wants. He on the other hand-" I trail off, speaking through gritted teeth. I clench my hand in the tablecloth as his hand slides a little further down her back, the wine wobbling in its glass as the fabric moves a little.
"Don't be that guy Harry. Give her one dance, and then you can go back out there and dance with your girl. You have to show her you trust her."
"She knows I trust her."
"You still have to show her. It's just how girls work." Lou smiles, patting me on the leg before getting up to get more dessert.
"He's right you know." Rose scoots over to the now vacant seat beside me. I don't turn to look at her, keeping my eyes trained on the boy.
"Yeah yeah," I murmur, watching B smile and laugh as they sway. His hand continues to inch closer to her ass and I swig the rest of my bourbon, vowing to myself that if his hand goes any further he won't have one anymore.
"Believe me, she would much rather it be you out there."
Rose's words calm me slightly, but not enough.
Louis returns with a plate full of desserts, from cream puffs to chocolate covered strawberries. I reach for one, before realizing that the music is slowly beginning to fade.
Dropping the fruit back on the plate I get to my feet quickly, chair squeaking against the floor as its pushed back. I straighten my jacket as I head back out on the dance floor, ignoring Rose's laughter in the background.
The boy spins her around and I catch her waist in my hands, making her gasp before I press a hard, deep kiss to her lips.
"Sorry man, can't spare her for more than one song," I say, still staring at Bailey, whose cheeks have gone my favorite shade of pink.
"Understandable Mr. Styles. It was nice meeting you, I'm a big fan. Good seeing you Bails, I'll find you sometime!" He smiles his chipper little smile and gives a quick wave before heading off the dance floor.
"I don't like Clinton." I press her closer to me, mumbling in her ear.
"Quinton is a very nice boy. Be nice," she scolds, leaning back so she can show me her scowl.
"I can be civil- maybe- but I can't promise nice. Not when his hand was that close to your a-"
"Harry!" She slaps my shoulder.
"What!? The polka dot section is reserved for boyfriends, the white is reserved for weird intrusive boys who steal pretty girls away from their boyfriends. Do you think he knew that song was going to be that long? I think it was all part of the plan."
"You're a mess." She rolls her eyes but she's smiling, and I feel much lighter than I did only a few minutes before.
We dance for a while longer, talking about the songs played and old school dances. Rose and Louis eventually make their way to the dance floor, which makes both of us smile and wiggle our eyebrows.
I want to ask her. God, I want to, but every time I look down all I can see are the lights reflecting in her eyes and the most beautiful face I've ever seen and my mouth refuses to work unless it's to duck down and kiss her.
Focus Harry. Focus. Ask her.
I open my mouth, barely getting out the first syllable when Bailey gasps, looking towards the buffet tables. Lydia is behind them, looking quite beautiful in a long red gown, and although the chefs hat looks a little silly with the ensemble, it makes me smile. A large, robust man in a suit who I assume is Mr. Finch stands close by her and picks up a wine glass, tapping it with his fork. The room falls silent rather quickly, everyone turning their attention to him.
"Hello guests! I want to thank you for joining me tonight for this gala! I hope you have enjoyed yourself tonight as we celebrate a year of record breaking stock sales!"
The crowd erupts into applause, so I join in.
"Now, what you may not know about this gala is that one of my dearest friends, Chef Lydia Danes, has prepared all this food for us. A round of applause for her as well, if you will!"
Lydia bows a little, blushing just as red as Bailey does. Our claps are the loudest of them all and I refrain from whistling.
"So, to recognize her talent and thank her for her support over the years, I'd like to present her with a $50,000 dollar check for her new restaurant, which will be opening next month in Manhattan!"
The crowd applauses again, as do I, but Bailey stands still as stone, staring at Lydia. Her eyes are glossy, reflecting the lights above her as tiny dots.
I look to Lydia again, whose brow is furrowed and I see her begin to say Bailey's name, but the girl beside me takes off, leaving the dance floor and escaping out the side door, a blur of polka dots and tears with no explanation for either of us.
YOU ARE READING
15 Years // harry styles
Fanfiction"When will you understand? I'm always going to protect you. I don't care if it puts me in danger, I don't care if you don't want me to. It doesn't matter where we are. Who it is. What it's from. I can't just sit by Bailey. I can't. I only care about...
