Harry Styles Preferences

Killing Me Softly-Fugees

I don't know what gave my friend the idea to pulling me to this pub. I want to be home instead, I am going out tonight.

The air is as cold as my heart, yet here I stand, in a black beret a black velvet shirt a mini salmon mini skirt and with a slit at the thigh waiting in the cold to go into the poetry and singing slam at "The Spark" a cafe downtown. "Ugh! I am about to die of hypothermia!" My friend complains tucking a lock of crickets of her's behind her ear. "Remember this was your idea, you wanted to go," I say and with each word my breath comes out like cigarette smoke. "Yeah, but you were the one who needed to go." She whispers as we take another step and I realize that we are next I go into my small brown messenger bag I bought at the second-hand shop not too long ago, and pull out my ID. "Just because I broke up with my boyfriend doesn't mean-"

"The boyfriend of two years." She interrupts,  "It doesn't mean I need to go out and have fun." I say crossing my arms and she snorts at me and takes my arm and she flashes ID and I show mine to the bouncer. He gives a nod, "Enjoy your night, next." He says and My friend pulls me in. I put my ID back into my bag. The room is lit only dimly, the only place with decent lighting was the center stage which is empty on the small sound of chatter was evidence of life in the room. "Here." She says in a hushed voice and I am dragged to a seat. The table is decent sighting from the stage. "Two espressos S'il Vous plaît." She asks putting up two fingers even though whoever she is talking to cannot possibly see it. I only hear footsteps walking away as I hear her say lowly. "This is going to be so much fun." She says before looking at the stage.

The first act comes up on stage and he has the whole hipster thing going for him. His brown hair simulates a horse's mane and he is holding a guitar in his hands and he pushes hand through his hair before sitting down. His eyes are dark maybe brown...he smiles and looks around the room but I know he can only see the front row. "Hi um I'm Harry Styles and this is my song Fool's Gold. "This song is about a relationship that just ended and I am not over it, so it's for her." He says, and I take a small sharp breath. He adjusts the mike and begins to play the melody on the guitar and sighs. 

  I'm like a crow on a wire
You're the shining distraction that makes me fly home
I'm like a boat on the water
You're the rise on the waves that calm my mind
Oh, every time  and I know in my heart, you're not a constant star

 I bite my lip and I can feel his hands wrapped around me and the heat of his body against mine when he is and mostly he wasn't always out with somebody else.

  And yeah I've let you use me from that day that we first met
But I'm not done yet
Falling for you
Fool's gold  

The feeling of bitterness sets in my teeth at the reminder that he used me, something to keep him warm. I can see him sitting on the counter eating an apple as I cook breakfast.

 And I knew that you turn it on for everyone you met, but I don't regret

Falling for you
Fool's gold 

I feel as though I am being stabbed, because his friends and family warn me about him, told me to be careful. I didn't listen I thought that he was the best thing for me and I was wrong. But I know that I am better because of it. I hear my coffee being placed down but I ignore it because I can't let my eyes go of this melody and the somber person singing it.

  I'm the first to admit that I'm reckless
I get lost in your beauty and I can't see two feet in front of me
And I know in my heart, you're just a moving part 

I wanted to leave at this moment because with each word the more shallow I feel. His beauty made him cruel...like a winter storm on a gentle flower but the flower now knows to grow thorns. He repeats the bridge and he closes his eyes before singing the next lyric.

  Yeah I know your love's not real
That's not the way it feels
That's not the way you feel  

I get up and I can feel my friend's eyes staring at me as I run off toward the bathroom. I run to the handicap stall even though it smells and it's dirty I stay balling my eyes out. "Y/N?" I hear my friend. "GO AWAY!" I shout at her and she sighs. "Babe-"

"OUT!" I scream before screaming and sobbing I hear her footsteps and her shutting the door behind her. That song is killing me with each verse over and over stabbing me over and over again telling my whole life with his words and I shake my head attempting to ignore him and that somber song. I hear footsteps opening. "Y/B/F/N GET OUT!" I say before throwing a shoe. "I am sad to say I am not her cinderella." A gruff voice says to me. I wipe my eyes shock at the change of octaves. I open the door and to see the singer up close. I was wrong about his eyes they were not brown but green and not the way you would think green. Not the shade of leaves in the morning that shine brighter from the morning dew. But the color of pine trees instead or the shade of dark jade. His smile is way stronger. "I never brought someone to tears before, I don't know to either be happy about it or apologetic about it. "How do you know that it was you and your song or not?" I ask and he laughs. "Your motormouth friend snitched on you after my session was over." He explains looking at me up and down. "You are beautiful." He comments and I snort. "I'm a fool."

"So am I, I am the one who wrote the song called Fool's Gold." He chuckles and it is gruff and oaky. "It's just that you wrote my whole relationship in that song.  He smiles wider, "My own too."  He says and with those words, he put the shoe back on my foot and helped me up. "I am glad I decided not to wear any makeup," I say with a laugh. He wipes the tears away. "He's the fool." He said and he pulls a card out of his pocket. "This is a bit of an um, cheesy way but you can call me maybe come by here for coffee in the morning, maybe, just maybe sparks fly?" He asks and I take the paper laughing. "Yes, and yeah...yes, that is quite a cheesy, punned pick up and yeah call it a date, now get out of the lady's room before you get thrown out of the place." I say pushing him out the door. The sound of snapping as the next person get's off the stage. Before the door shut I see his hands making a call me motion before he leaves. I return to my table finally and I watch as my iced latte with cream is placed in front of me.  "No espressos?" I ask, "No need for it."