One Direction Dating Scenarios

Harry - Like Titanic (Chapter 2)

You stare at your reflection in the bathroom mirror with a fierce intensity. “You are going on a date with Harry Styles,” you enunciate each word carefully.

Nope. Still doesn’t sound right. You tug your hair out of your ponytail and hop into the shower to get ready for a date you’re not even 100% positive is happening.

“Are you sure I’m not dreaming this?” you call out to your best friend. She’d come to help you prepare, knowing you would be a total mess—she was right. You can hear her scurrying around your room and rummaging through drawers.

“For the millionth FREAKING time, YES. Do you need me to slap you to prove it?”

You laugh and let the warm water and steam engulf you. Thankfully, it helps clear your fogged up mind.

You remember the way Harry smiled. The way the water in his lashes made his bright, green eyes glisten. The way he pulled you into his strong arms.

Yes. You know without a doubt that was real. Even a dream couldn’t come up with something that amazing.

You step out of the shower, wrap yourself in a towel, and cautiously go out to see what your friend has laid out for you to wear.

She’s holding something behind her back with a devious smile on her face. “Are you ready to see what I have picked out for ya?”

“Oh, God, what did you do?”

“Check out this little number!” She whips out what looks like a black skirt.

“O…kay. What about the top?”

She holds the fabric over her own frame. “This IS the top. It’s a dress.”

Your jaw drops straight to the floor. “Whoa, hold on there—you have got to be kidding; we’re just going to a movie, he’s not even gonna see what I’m—”

She bursts out laughing and throws the tiny dress over your head. “I am kidding, stupid. I have your favorite shirt and jeans waiting for you right over there.”

Exasperated, you take the dress and smack her with it over and over until you’re laughing along with her.

…

“Oh...crap,” you bite your lip as you register your walls are completely covered in One Direction posters. And to top it off, a huge, monstrous poster of Harry right at the head of your bed.

You shake your head. ‘It’s not like he’s gonna come into my room,’ you think, shrugging it off.

When the doorbell rings, you practically jump out of your skin. ‘Oh, God. Oh, dear God,’ you panic in your head. Now that you know this is real, the anxiety is kicking in at full speed. You’re not sure if you can handle it.

You inhale and slowly exhale to calm yourself down. ‘You were in a bathroom stall with him debating about Titanic; surely you can sit through a freaking movie.’

You take one more big breath and finally open the door. And there he is.

He’s standing tall, sporting a crisp white v-neck and black jeans, his hands clasped behind his back as if he’s ready to escort you to a school dance.

He’s already smiling, and though his posture is confident, something in his eyes seems a little off. You think you can see the same exact anxiety you have in them. “You ready?”

You glance over his shoulder and see the tour bus—the boys must’ve just dropped him off—and notice Louis and Niall wave and make kissy faces behind Harry’s back as they drive off into the night.