Shining Distraction [slow updates]

.FOUR.

"Baby, we both know that the nights were mainly made for saying things that you can't say tomorrow day.." --Do I Wanna Know?, Arctic Monkeys

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August 23rd, 2015

"Pizza?" After I ask, I remove the blazer I thought I'd need when we left the venue. The humidity is still borderline unbearable when Harry and I find ourselves walking away from Soldier Field, trying to narrow down a plan of action, as he so appropriately referred to it. I glance up at him, hopeful, after I suggest we grab a slice, or a whole pie, and my heart skips a beat when I see his amused smile.

"Bloody hell, how did I know you'd say that," he asks, shaking his head a bit but letting out a chuckle at the same time, as if the smirk on his face wasn't enough of a giveaway that he likes the idea. When our eyes meet again, I offer him a tiny shrug and wait for him to give in.

"You're in Chicago," I exclaim, trying to argue my case even though I knew it wasn't necessary. I notice Harry's eyes go wide, willing me to continue, so I do. "If you're going to have pizza anywhere, this is the place!" He laughs again and I can't keep the smile already plastered on my face from growing wider.

"I thought that was hot dogs?" His questions makes me laugh, if only for the fact that 'hot dogs' sounds so... odd in his accent. I am still cackling like a crazy person and I have to shake my head to say no because I can't stop long enough to form any words. Finally, he shakes his head in defeat and I laugh even harder when I see the hint of worry on his face.

"Sorry, nope, it's gotta be pizza." I have managed to control my fit of giggles and notice that we have stopped walking. Harry is staring at me and, when my eyes find his, every hint of laughter leaves me and I swallow audibly. There is something behind the green that I can't identify but I know I want to. A parade of butterflies prances through my chest before I see him smirk again.

"Right, pizza it is then," he answers, grabbing my blazer out of my hand and throwing it over his shoulder. Before I can get the words out to protest, he holds his hand up to stop me. I shrink back and relax a bit as we start to move once again.

"Perfect, I know just the place!" I am fully aware of the child-like glee that comes out with my words but I can't be bothered to care, especially because it causes an absolutely dazzling grin to find its way across Harry's face. I inform him that we need to flag down a cab to take us downtown but find myself frowning when he shakes his head.

"I'll call for my car to pick us up," he explains, digging his phone out of the back pocket of his black jeans. When I try to protest, yet again, he stops me by speaking before me. "I've got to let them know where I will be tonight, anyway." He winks at me while clicking around on his phone for a few seconds before bringing it up to his ear, waiting patiently.

I take these preoccupied moments to watch him, study him -- the way his thumb and forefinger always find their way up to his mouth to tug at his bottom lip, or the way he pushes his hair forward into his face, ruffling it up before moving it back again, or the way the silver rings on his fingers sparkle under the street lamps above us, looking perfectly at home next to his knuckles. I am dizzy with fascination, completely captivated by every little thing he does, every tiny move he makes.

He is wrapping up the phone call when I finally shake the haze from my mind, doing my best to throw on an inconspicuous smile, and he keeps his lips tight in a grin when he sees me.

"Shouldn't be more than a few moments." He is shoving his phone back into its spot in his pocket and I can't read the expression that has made its way to his face. I don't have the chance to ask if he is alright before he opens his mouth. "We should probably get to your place as soon as possible, though. Dale suggested I take every precaution to keep from being spotted in the city." He places his hand on the back of his neck, moving it up and down in some sort of nervous gesture.