Clutch.

|six|

Zoe's POV

Emma and I turned around and started walking towards the closed off cluster of teenage boys lingering in the foyer. Harry looked at me once I stepped next to him, and smiled a bit at my presence. I returned the warm gesture and complimented him, because really, who doesn't like to know they look good.

"What a nice little tie you got there, Styles." I said over the semi loud and unrecognizable elevator-like music filling the enclosed waiting room leading into the bigger eating area.

He laughed quietly with a strange expression falling across his face and stuck his hands in his back pockets. "Oh you know, always classy. But you.. You look really lovely, Zoe." He grinned, clearing his throat as he nodded.

"Thanks." I replied in a hushed tone. Great to know my whole plan worked out then. I was looking good.

We all walked back after the petite very British waitress led us, and grabbed a table in the back of the restaurant. Seems like that's the usual routine with these boys when they go in public somewhere. Makes enough sense to be.

Harry pulled my chair out for me before sitting to my left, Emma on my right, and sat right next to her was Niall. The rest of the boys sat across from us at the lengthy rectangular table. We all had ice waters delivered shortly after being seated and quickly ordering our meals, pleasant smiles and 'hellos' filling the air from multiple waiters passing by.

The boys made conversation amongst themselves, discussing 'football' and championships and just shit that didn't interest me one bit . But I was nearly positive it wasn't the type of football I was thinking of. I could bet oodles of money that none of these guys had even heard of the Seattle Seahawks before.

Harry turned a hair towards me in his seat with his full attention now making me feel slightly on edge. He didn't say a word, and he didn't have to, but I could feel his eyes seeing right through me if they truly could. It was actually sort of creepy, to be honest, just because hardly anyone's done that to me recently. I mean, I suppose I couldn't blame him for staring. That's what I get for coming out all dressed up like this.

"Yes?" I questioned in a condescending tone, staring back at him now as I crossed my arms. I just wanted to mess with him, really see how far he could be pushed before things got super awkward.

"You just look really nice." He muttered anxiously, letting out a small huff from his pinked lips.

"You said that already." I said softly, blushing only from the obvious reminder that he was still looking me up and down.

"I meant it." He smirked mischievously as he faced me more now in his seat. Our eyes instantly became locked on the others' as I glanced at him, tension and warmth filling the tiny gap between our chairs. I couldn't look away, he wasn't letting me.

This is such a strange situation I put myself in, and kept myself in at this point. I knew I sort of had feelings for him, but we haven't even known each other long at all, and how the fuck was I supposed to know exactly what I wanted.

I knew in my heart, and in my head too, that I wanted there to be something between Harry and I. I didn't even know what exactly, but I was damn sure that I wanted something. Anything. But, could I really afford to risk losing this sudden friendship over something so trivial as maybe a fling, especially when I have to leave in three weeks? I was fucking scared. I was tumbling into these thoughts and questions with no desire or intention of stopping, and it seems that based merely on the shit going on between us now, the feelings are 'hopefully' mutual.

I sighed inaudibly as I fluttered my eyes away from his, delicately placing my cloth napkin in my lap now as I fiddled with the seams. Hoping and wishing I made the right decision with what I was about to say, that's all I could do. I needed to take Emma's advice. "Harry, what's going on here." I asked bluntly, no warning or hint of messing around in my voice. I'd feel sorry for the poor guy if I was anyone else watching this confrontation.