Chimera | H.S Mature

11.

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*Harry's POV*

For the fourth time I straightened the knife and fork placed beside me, aligning the bottom of the cutlery with the bottom of the napkin and leaving a small gap between the two. I pushed the empty wine glass slightly further away and readjusted my plate so that it was sitting directly in front of me before drumming my finger lightly against the edge of the table.

She was only running a couple of minutes late but it was enough to make my stomach queasy.

She isn't coming dickhead. He snickered.

I grumbled quietly and fixed my fork again. The restaurant around me was small and quaint, tucked away on one of London's quieter streets. My parents had brought Dani and I here on our first trip to the city, we had wandered the streets for hours, turning our noses up at the extravagant prices of the food on the main streets. It was by chance that we stumbled across this little Italian, their prices were reasonable and their food was to die for, we came here every night for the rest of our trip.

There were only about 10 tables spaced out across the floor, each decorated with a rich red cloth and a white rose in a vase. The floor was rustic, the dark wood dancing with swirls and knots. The walls were red brick, with one beside me decorated from floor to ceiling with a collage of Italian cities and landmarks on glossy wallpaper.

It was quiet this evening, 3 other couples were seated across the room, all of them engaged in their own conversations, their words hushed as they spoke over the candle light and picked at their food between sentences.

She is 10 minutes late now.

Ha, she ditched you. What a fucking loser you are Styles!

With each passing minute, I was beginning to think he was right.

The bell above the door chimed quietly as a soaking wet body stumbled into the otherwise calm restaurant, drawing the attention of everyone in the room towards her. Samantha pulled the hood of her jacket sheepishly from her head and shot a small smile to those watching her.

"Sorry," she mumbled, pointing towards the drips of water on the wooden floor, "slipped".

I bit my lip to subdue a chuckle and smiled where her eyes met mine. She let out a visible sigh of relief and weaved through the tables and chairs until she was in front of me. I stood up quickly as she placed her soaking jacket on the back of her chair. I coughed to hide my obvious shock as my eyes wandered up and down her body briefly. She was wearing a small black dress, the loose material stuck to her body as drips of water rolled down her bare legs. Simply glancing at her smooth, slightly tanned skin caused a pang of something in my stomach and an obvious throbbing in my jeans. As she stood up again she pulled her loosely curled blonde hair around her face and over her shoulders so that the waves fell just above the swell of her chest. Her eyes were shaped by a thin black line that flicked out at the end and her eyelashes were coated in a dark black mascara. Other than that, she had kept it beautifully natural, the pink tint to her cheeks making her look young and innocent but the curve of her body through the dress made her look mature and beautiful.

Slut, he spat and I growled beneath my breath. Samantha didn't seem to notice.

I pulled the chair out for her to take a seat and pushed it in gently as she sat down. She thanked me quietly as I returned to my seat opposite her.

"I'm so sorry I'm late. I was all ready to leave on time and then as soon as I stepped outside, some dickhead in a fancy car drove through a puddle and soaked me. I had to run back inside and change. And then I forgot my phone so I couldn't even text you to say that I was running late" she rambled, running a hand through her hair and fixing the knife and fork beside her. I smiled as I watched her fingers subconsciously fiddle with the cutlery, much like mine did.