Book 1 || Finding Prince Charming || Harry Styles

Chapter 45

Her view.

"We should go directly to the Impressionist room." He grins at me as we enter the museum. "We go up the steps and make our first right." He runs ahead of me and then stops. "We can go in the gift shop afterwards if you want." He points to a store a little further up on the left.
"That would be nice."
"I'm excited to hear your thoughts about each painting." His eyes light up and I realize just how into art he is.
Part of me is impressed and the other part is scared. I don't want to sound like an idiot in front of him. I don't know how to speak very intellectually about art.
"Hopefully, I don't sound like an idiot." I grin and he laughs.
"I don't think you could ever sound like an idiot, Cassidy."
"Really?" I raise an eyebrow at him and laugh. "You don't think that at all?"
"Not at all. I think you'd be surprised to know what I think of you."
"What do you think of me?" I stand there waiting on pins and needles for his response.
"You already know I'm attracted to you. You know that I want to teach you."

His fingers wrap around my ear as he brushes some strands of hair away from my face.
"What do you want to teach me?" I watch as he moves his mouth closer to mine and close my eyes.
"Excuse me, please," a lady shouts at us. "That's not a very smart place to stop." She pushes past us with a big bag and five bored-looking kids.
"Sorry," I make a face at her as she walks by. I'm pissed that she ruined the moment for me, but I know the middle of the museum isn't the place to be getting down and dirty.
"Should we go and join the philistines?" Harry moves away from me and starts walking towards the entryway.
"Let's do it." I nod and he grins.
"I was hoping you'd say that." He grins mischievously and I ignore him. Harry confuses me with his hot and cold emotions.
"I want to show you one of my favourite Renoir paintings first." He walks through the gallery as if he owns it, and I follow behind him quickly. He stops in front of a painting and I read the name card. The painting's called At the Theatre and shows a young girl ad her companion sitting down facing the stage.
However, all the other people in the theatre are starring at her.
"What do you think of it?" Harry asks me after a few minutes.
"It's a wonderful painting. It's so ornate and rich." I speak timidly, not knowing what he wants me to say.
"What does it make you think?"
"I don't know." I mumble and stare at the painting again. It's weird to me that everyone's staring at the girl. "I guess it makes me wonder who she is." I speak again.
"Why is everyone starring at her? Why is she the focal point of the painting? Why is she so important?"
"Exactement." Harry grins. "And past that, I want to know how she feels about being the centre of attention. I want to know if she can handle it. From all appearances, she seems as if she were made for the role, but then we don't know  what's on the inside, do we?"
"She looks uncomfortable." I stare at her face and then her blue outfit. "But that could be her outfit. It looks so stuffy."
"That was the appropriate outfit." He looks me in the eyes. "When I'm in Romeria, I have to wear y royal garb. It's heavy and itchy, but it's tradition."
"I suppose you do what you have to do."
"My wife, if I ever take one, will be faced with a lot of scrutiny. She'll also have to wear the traditional garb and she'll be subjected to a lot of talk."
"Poor lady."
"Most women would love to become princess of Romeria."
"Good for you and good for them." I look away from him. Is he deliberately trying to irritate me and make me jealous?
"I don't see myself getting married anytime soon." He gives me a sharp look.
"I didn't propose, so no skin off my back." I snap at him, and he laughs. His green eyes seem to jump with humour and joy and his classically handsome face looks boyish and young.
For a moment he looks like Louis.
"You remind me of Louis when you laugh." I smile at him and he frowns.

"You love to bring up my brother."
"He's my friend."
"Just make sure of that." His lips curl up and I feel my stomach sink.
"I'm sorry you don't think I'm good enough for your brother."
"You're only good enough for me." His eyes flash at me and my eyes widen. Is he jealous?