Red [h. styles]

Twelve

12

"You heard it here first! Harry Styles and Jena Townes, the girl from the song Carolina, are officially a thing. Do you like it or not? Tweet us now!"

Jena sat criss cross applesauce on the couch, staring at the gossip show. Harry stood behind the couch, resting his arms on her shoulders.

"There's no going back," Jenna murmured.

"Scared?" Harry asked.

"Yeah." Jena breathed.

"Want to back out? Say it was all a misunderstanding?" Harry asked, voice low and vulnerable.

"No. I just want to hold your hand a bit tighter." Jena confessed.

"I think I can arrange that." Harry vaulted over the back of the couch, laying his head in her lap. Jena started combing through his curls, braiding small sections of it. His hair was silky and smelled of fruit, and Jena loved it.

"You know," Harry said pensively, "we'll probably have to take you on an interview show. Just to introduce you and all that."

"Alright," Jena agreed, "but it'd have to be on the weekend. I'll be starting work soon, you know."

"Work? Why would you work?" Harry joked. "Just stay here with me, forever."

"As much as I'd like that," Jena sighed wistfully, "I finally have my dream job. And nothing will stop me from working there."

Harry smiled up at her. "Go get you your dream, Red. I believe in you."

"I believe in myself as well. And for the show, have it be a quality one, yes?" Jena specified.

"Obviously," Harry said, "but why are you so insistent on it?"

"On some shows their goal is to make a person squirm. I hold my own better than most but even I can falter. I want a show that gives me an honest chance of charming the public." Jena said matter-of-factly.

"Anything you require, I will do," Harry said whimsically, and Jena tugged on a curl a bit harder than necessary. That would teach him to not be a poetic dip-shit.

"Ow!" Harry protested. "This is what I get for texting Amy?"

"You just took out your phone!" Jena debated. "Amy's doing all the work! Speaking of that, how do I send her a fruit basket?"

"Send it to her workplace. Here, I'll text you her address if you'd like." Harry said, and Jena nodded.

Shortly after Jena had placed her order for an edible bouquet, Harry's phone rang. "Amy! Hello! Tomorrow? Yeah, we could do tomorrow. Thanks, love! Bye!"

"What's happening tomorrow?" Jena asked warily.

"We are taping for the Late-Late Show tomorrow. Amy made a couple calls, and they managed to squeeze us in. I was going there anyways to promote the new album, and so putting in a segment with you wasn't too difficult." Harry said happily.

"And you trust James Corden? He'll try to make our lives easier?" Jena asked cautiously.

"James is great. A little much at times, but he has a good heart. We'll be fine." Harry assured her.

"Okay," Jena said, "if you're sure."

"I am." Harry said strongly. He sat up, practically in her lap, looking in her eyes. "I'm not going to let you get hurt."

"You don't need to be so serious." Jena laughed, though it sounded fake even to her ears. "It's not like they're going to kill me. My pride can take the hit."

"But I don't want it to." Harry said, capturing her eyes with his once more. "Your eyes are beautiful."

"What did we say about calling me beautiful?" Jena asked, trying to change the subject as best she could.

"Your eyes remind me of the ocean on a sunny day, swirls of gorgeous shades of blue. I would be content staring into them for hours." Harry said dramatically.

Jena giggled, realizing that Harry was exaggerating everything. Well, two could play at that game. "Your eyes remind me of a field of clover right after the rain that's been sprinkled with autumn leaves. Someone had better get me a map, because I've become lost in them."

Harry laughed, kissing her softly. "You amuse me, Jenavieve Townes."

"I try my best, Harold Styles." Jena replied.

"Actually," Harry said smugly, "my name's just Harry"

"Seriously?" Jena asked, laughing.

"Yep," Harry said, "Harry Edward Styles. No Harold."

"Fascinating," Jena said with a laugh. "I'd like to meet your mother, if for the sole purpose of asking why she didn't just go all out and name you Harold."

"You know," Harry though aloud, "that is an interesting question. And I'd like to ask your mother why you're named Jenavieve with a G."

"I'm afraid she can't help you there." Jena said with a hollow laugh. "My grandmother may be able to tell you, though. Jenavieve was my mother's middle name, and when I was born, my grandmother just gave my mother's name backwards."

"So what's your full name?" Harry asked, tactfully avoiding the delicate subject of her family. When she was ready to tell him, she would.

"Jenavieve Elizabeth Townes." Jena said with a slight smile.

"A lovely name for a lovey girl." Harry said, arranging himself better in her lap.

"Yeah, yeah." Jena said. "Now get off me, I have to go home. I've been here long enough, I need to arrange my furniture."

"Just be back here tomorrow at 4." Harry pulled himself off her.

"Course!" Jena smiled. "Bye Boyband!"

"Bye, Red."