Can't Get Enough

21.

21.

I came home the next day at noon to a dress on my bed. It wasn't that long, and had a corset top. There was slight tulle at the bottom and the whole thing was a gorgeous mint green. There was a robin's-egg blue box on top of it which was the unmistakeable color of Tiffany and Co. jewelry. The sender easily intrigued me, my mom couldn't afford this, and my dad sure as hell didn't buy this. I walked closer and found a note on top of the box.

"Be ready by 4:30. H."

Of course. I checked the label of the dress. Versace. Why was he so extravagant? I opened the Tiffany box. Diamond teardrop earrings and a matching necklace. This outfit easily cost thousands of dollars and I was uncomfortable even looking at it.

"That boy brought it for you."

I whipped my head around to see my father standing there, still in his work clothes. He'd been here for hours, why didn't he change?

"He's nice." I airily replied.

"I just better not see you on the news for wearing stolen property." He growled.

"Your mother is doing overtime. Won't be home till 6. I'm going out somewhere. You better be home before I am." Before he exited, I failed to see a wedding ring on a single finger.

Oh.

--

And at 4:30 on the dot, I heard the hum of his vehicle in my driveway. I instantly grew self-conscious of my curled hair, pulled back by a silver headband. And my blue eyeliner had smudged a bit under my brown eyes. I couldn't fix it now, so I stepped into my silver flats, grabbed my peacoat, and headed out to meet my prince.

"Beautiful doesn't even begin to describe how you look right now." He just kept staring at me, which I found a bit odd, but I kind of liked the attention. I felt like he really cared about every inch of me. I took time to focus on him as well. His hair was for once without the scarf, and he ditched the stoned pirate rice farmer look, which was rather refreshing. His hair had extra volume, rambunctious as always. I couldn't see under his coat, but I imagined a suit as ravashing as my dress beneath there.

"You don't look so bad yourself. And dare I ask the obvious question-where are we going?"

He smiled to himself, turned up the sound on his radio-which was playing One Night by Ed Sheeran-and backed out of my driveway.

The sun had this mysterious gleam to it. It had a little over a couple hours until it set properly, and this was my favorite time to look at it. It's deep yellow tinge always calmed me, and Harry's gloved hand found mine and I felt so safe.

However unsure of my decision that morning.

*flashback to that morning*

Louis looked at me, uneasy and blew smoke from his lungs.

"Are you absolutely sure about this?" It was the first time I'd seen him unsure about himself. We were in his basement, which was basically a drug addict's dream. His parents never went down there, apparently, because they wanted Louis to have his own space separate from his bedroom that he could do anything with.

And anything he did. I had picked myself out a purple bowl from the shelf of varying bowls and bongs he had against the far wall. On the ground below there lay around five different hookahs, and a flat screen wall tv was across that with bean bags. This was obviously the place to go when the campground couldn't be used. We were sitting on a round couch with a table in the middle. Full of marijuana for days.

I blew out rings, a trick Liam taught me that I finally mastered.

"Positive."

He took a long drag, contemplating.