Imagine #3
You and Harry are waiting in line at your local Starbucks. You chat about everything and nothing with him. He's such a good listener, not to mention he's easy to talk to. One of the many reasons you love him.
"I'll have a small mocha cookie crumble and this lady here'll have a small caramel frappichino," he tells the cashier.
"You know my order," you smile at him.
"Of course I do," he says, pecking your cheek.
You pick out a table for you two to sit at. Before you can take a sip of your drink, Harry grabs your hands from across the table, intertwining his long fingers with yours. He smiles softly at you, revealing his adorable dimples. He winks, earning a small giggle from you.
"Listen," he begins, 'you are everything that I ever wanted and more. Everything about you is just bloody perfect. From your laugh, to your smile, to the way you blush when I compliment you, like right now. I really like you. No, I love you. I just need to know...Do you love me like I love you?"
You begin to respond, but your cut off by a high pitch squeal. Suddenly, you're hands are being swatted away from Harry's by a Gucci purse.
"GET AWAY FROM MY MAN YOU FILTHY TWAT!" The next thing you know, you're being hit by the Gucci purse over and over again. You can't see who is hitting you because of the purse being thrown against your face mercilessly.
"C'mon Haz. Let's go. I don't wanna catch the ugly disease from this animal," you hear the voice say.
"Okay Loubear," Harry says. leaving you.
You die.
~The End~
