the cool side of the pillow {styles au}

sixteen

Cleo's POV:

My feet pad over to the counter where I pour myself a cup of coffee, inhaling the refreshing scent. After adding some sugar, I make my way to the living room and plop down in my dad's recliner. I mindlessly scroll through the TV channels, finding nothing interesting on. Of course, because it's a Sunday. My dad went to go run errands and so I have the house to myself, although there isn't shit to do.

The doorbell rings suddenly, pulling my attention away from the TV, where I wasn't really watching anyway. I hop up, shuffling to the door and pulling it open, hoping it's Harry even though he told me he was busy today. My brows furrow together in confusion when I'm met with an empty porch. I take a step forward to look around and nearly trip over something. When I look down, I see a basket covered in a blanket with a note on top. I pick up the basket and read the note: I remembered these were some of your favorite things. I hope this makes you smile :) Be ready at 7. -H .xx

A small smile tugs at the corners of my mouth as I pull the blanket off and reveal what's underneath. The basket is filled with sour candy, yellow flowers, and a CD with "H-Deezy's mix tape" written on it. I look up, expecting to see Harry lurking around somewhere, but can't manage to find him, so I go inside. Immediately, I insert the CD into our sound system and crank up the volume, dancing around the living room like a fool. Harry's song selections are fantastic; I can't believe how similar our music tastes are.

This goes on for hours before I'm completely worn out. I collapse on the couch and check my phone for the first time all day. There's a text from Harry that I received nearly two hours ago. It says: Glad you liked the music, I can hear it from across the street :) x

I answer quickly with: Creep ;)

I wait for his response, but it doesn't arrive, so I head upstairs to shower.

***

It's 6:58 when the doorbell rings, and I'm immediately off the couch, jogging towards the front door. I throw it open and there Harry is, a sweet smile on his face. He's wearing black skinny jeans, a charcoal grey long sleeved shirt that hugs his toned torso, with a flannel shirt tied around his waist, and brown boots. He looks so scrumptious, I could eat him right up.

"Hello, Harry," my dad calls from the kitchen.

Harry peers around me and waves, "Hello, Mr. James. How are you?"

"I'm doing well. Have her home by 11:00, please," he says, never looking up from the stack of mail he's sorting through.

"Will do," Harry agrees, giving me a quick peck on the cheek as he retreats.

He starts down the steps, but waits for me as I shut the door. I turn around and his hand is extended for me to take, which I do like so many times before. As we walk to his car, Harry swings our arms and bumps into me playfully. This sweet side of him is my absolute favorite, and sometimes I wish it could always be this easy with us. We get in the car and drive for a little while, Harry singing along softly with the radio.

He turns onto the highway and I raise an eyebrow, "Where exactly are we going?"

"I can't tell you, it'll ruin the surprise."

"Fine," I huff, sticking my tongue out at him.

Half an hour later, Harry pulls the car over and shuts it off. He stares at me expectantly and I look around, thoroughly confused. We're practically in the middle of nowhere, nothing but trees on either side of us. When Harry gets out of the car, I have no choice but to follow. He walks around to the front of the car and waits for me with the tiniest of smiles on his face. He takes my hand and walks a few feet forward, stopping abruptly and turning me to face the other side of the road.