A different side to one direction

Footsie

I done a lot of research for this wee chapter so if i got anything wrong please notify me

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I slip my sandals off subtly while conversations start here and there, and young waiter brings each of us a glass of water with a straw. My eyes are glued on him longer than necessary as he passes out menus. He has brown hair with a couple blonde highlights reminding me of Niall and his eyes are green, almost like Harry's. His smile though is mischievous, a lot like Louis's.

Our eyes lock and he smiles timidly, making me swoon a little at his dimpled-smile.

Niall notices my attention for the guy and scoots closer to me protectively as the waiter leaves. I roll my eyes in disbelief and open my menu.

Out of the blue, Louis's mum, whose name I learned was Johanna, asks me a question.

"Sophie, I've noticed your accent doesn't quite suit the British one, neither the American. Where are you from?" She asks, twirling her straw with her fingers. The boys all stiffen at her interrogation, their eyes warning me to respond wisely.

"Oh, I'm Canadian. From Quebec City to be more precise. You should visit it sometime...Sightseeing is great! I could give you a private tour of Old Quebec if ever the boys let me go..."

The boy's glares shoot knives.

"If they let you go? Harry, what does she mean by that?" Anne asks her son, worried.

"Well apparently, I'm their p-" I was about to say possession but Niall kicks me from under the table.

"She's our princess. We love her so much it's quite hard to let her go anywhere," Niall cuts me with a forced smile.

"With all her gorgeousness, it would actually be dangerous to let her go alone anywhere." Harry approves, answering his mothers question.

"How cute." Anne replies, her worry gone as she hugs her son lovingly.

"So if you live in Quebec City, how can you speak English so fluently? I heard people there speak French, with lots of swearing." Johanna continues.

"Mom..." Louis groans, but I answer anyways.

"French is my motherly tongue. I just got the privilege to go to school in English and learn some Spanish. And yeah there's a lot of swearing in some parts of town. Not really proud of that part of our culture." I finish.

The five mothers nod and start another conversation with their sons.

Perfect time to start the game, I think before sliding my foot up Harry's leg, to rest it against his thigh. He shifts uncomfortably and his disturbed eyes meet mine. I smile cheekily, pushing my foot against his crotch teasingly. I feel him hardening and smirk proudly, avoiding his gaze. I feel Harry's hands on my ankle about to shove my foot away, but I only end up pushing harder on his hardening erection.

He groans, and every head whips towards him in surprise.

"Haz, are you okay?" Ann asks him.

"I'm fine." He says, looking angrily in my direction. "I'm just really hungry," he adds facing his mom, rubbing his stomach. I laugh silently, taking a sip of water. The hot waiter comes back, a writing pad and a pen in his hands.

My other foot starts in Louis direction, my toes taunting their way upwards on his thighs. He squirms on his seat, his eyes laying on me when realisation hits.

"May I take your orders?" The waiter asks, his strong British accent making my heart melt. I look at his name tag: Jeremy. Cute.

He bites his bottom lip in concentration as he notes what everybody wants, starting with the mothers. I start daydreaming about how soft his lips could be, how they would feel pressed against mine, my hands tangled in his messy hair...