almost || h.s

August 20 1963

"Good morning Elizabeth."

"Good morning Harold."

...

Harry's eyes glimmered as he set the radio to his favorite station. His foot tapped along too the all too modern rock music erupting from the boom box. The Beatles taking the country by storm, Elvis Presley showing us what real music sounds like, The Rolling Stones never failing to make Harry get up and dance.

A particular favorite of mine came on the radio and I couldn't help but get up and dance. Elvis Presley's Tonight Is So Right For Love rang through the boom box.

"Dance with me."

I took Harry's hand in mine as we waltzed and danced in our own little world. The music captivating and beautiful, just like the moment we shared.

Before I had ran away, I stayed up passed my bedtime listening to my own boom box, and this song was constantly playing. I fell in love with this song, letting myself fall into a different dimension every night before bed time. I dreamed of having a man who sees me for myself and not for the wealth I have behind me. I pictured a tall, handsome man twirling me around until we both felt dizzy. And here he was.

Dancing to the music and sharing priceless moments, the songs began to get slower, bringing him closer to me.

My head rested on his chest as we swayed to the music, letting it pull us in.

"Elizabeth?"

"Yes Harry?" I lifted my head so we were both sharing each other's gazes.

"I think I'm in love." He never broke the gaze, making my heart speed up and my breath come out as more of a search for air.

"Whom with?"

"A beautiful woman."

"Will you be seeing her in two days?"

"She's right in front of me."

His eyes never left mine as he leaned down, pulling me towards him in a passionate kiss. At first I was hesitant, not wanting this to be true. But I couldn't help but fall into his remedy, wrapping my arms around his neck to deepen the kiss.

It was beautiful. Never have I kissed someone and felt butterflies in my stomach and fireworks igniting everywhere. His lips were something so foreign yet so beautiful, like himself.

"I love you." He breathed, pulling me into him, our foreheads resting upon each other's.

"And I love you." I wasn't expecting such odd words to come out of my mouth, seeing how love was a figure of someone's imagination. But with Harold Edward Styles, it felt right.

"Don't use 'and' or 'too.' Those words leave an uneasiness in my stomach."

"Why so?"

"Because when someone uses those filler words, it's as if they are trying to avoid what they just said and trying to cover it up with such words. I want your words to be meaningful like mine are for you."

"Harry?" He nodded, directing his attention towards mine.

"I love you."

We stood together in the middle of the room, never taking our eyes off of one another. The music playing in the background was now barely audible, our breathing more important.

He took my hand in his, placing a soft kiss upon it.

"I have a question, Ms. Cooper."

"And I have an answer."

"I've never dated anyone before, it was all just forced marriage. So I was wondering if you would do the honor of being my girlfriend?"

"Depends really."

His eyes widened as I continued my playful manner.

"Mr. Styles, I don't think my parents would approve of someone as odd as you. So I accept."

He picked me up, twirling me around as I laughed from the slight dizziness. This moment forever etched in the back of my brain for that is where a file lays with 'my most precious memories' entitled upon it. And I often drift to that file as I lay awake at night thinking of him.

"Ms. Cooper, would you mind assisting me in the kitchen as I cook us a lovely dinner?"

"Well I would be delighted Mr. Styles."

He grabbed my hand and we raced towards the kitchen, making a mess of his once tidy kitchen.

The truth of the matter was that I had no idea of how to cook. I usually sat in my room most days, envying the silence and solitude. But Harry looked as if he were a culinary chef of his own, chopping and dicing various vegetables.

I sat upon the counter watching as he focused all of his concentration on the meal he was creating.

"How do you know how to cook so well?"

"When I was little I often drifted towards the kitchen, enjoying the aroma lingering in the air. The head chef hated me because I was always causing trouble, but the sous chef adored me and was always teaching me tricks in the kitchen. Soon I found myself cooking my own lunch and dinner. It was just a hobby I enjoyed."

"Not only are you a writer but a cook too!" That earned a chuckle from him as he went back to sautéing a chicken breast on a pan.

Soon enough the dinner was prepared and we sat eating the delicious meal. It still amazed me that Harry actually cooked this but there's just too much to him that it's hard to keep up.

"Thank you. It was wonderful."

"No problem, love."

...

"I love you."

"I love you."

"Goodnight, Mr. Styles."

"Goodnight, Mrs. Styles."

Watch the gifs on the side, this is how I imagine them dancing.