Selected || H.S

T w e n t y

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"Where are we going?" I ask as our car drives past the hotel. He intertwines his fingers with mine, giving my hand a light squeeze.

"We're having dinner at a restaurant for our first night." He smiles and I feel my heart flutter.

"Harry Styles," I smirk at him. "Are you asking me out on a date?"

"Maybe." He mutters, his smile growing even wider, and I swear I could see a light tint of red on his cheeks. I giggle while he wraps an arm around my shoulders, bringing me closer to him. "I hope you're down for some Italian food."

"I love Italian food, it's my favorite." We look at each other and he places a small kiss on my lips, taking me by surprise.

"Perfect then."

After a few minutes, the car finally stops in front of a fancy looking restaurant where a few paps are already waiting for us. My body stiffens at the thought of having to make my way through them once again and Harry lets out a small groan.

"Leave it to my dad to tell the media where we're going to eat." He groans, the cease between his eyebrows only deepening. I give his hand a squeeze to calm him and he immediately softens at the contact. I don't want the paparazzo to ruin our first real date and Harry's mood.

His driver opens the door for us while doing his best to contain the mass of photographers. Harry's grip around my hand tightens as we leave the car and I try to stay as close to him as possible. lightly covering my eyes because of the flash of the cameras. When we finally step inside the warm restaurant, I let out a relieved breath but Harry remains tensed.

"Good evening, Your Majesty. A table is already set for you." The woman greeting us says and we follow her inside the large and luxurious, yet cozy place. The people inside the restaurant fall into a respectful silence as we walk past them, standing upright and giving Harry a polite nod. 

"Thank you." We both say as the waitress shows us our table in the VIP room, to prevent any disturbance. A round table is set for us, with candles and pink roses decorating it. A bucket of ice with three bottles of wine is placed next to it and the waitress quickly fills our glasses with the expensive drinks.

"Gosh, I could eat everything that's in here," I say as I read through the menu.

"Mmhm." I look over the booklet at his answer, seeing his lips pursed into a thin line while his eyebrows remain furrowed. "Harry, is there something wrong?" I ask, worried. He's tensed and his mind obviously is on something else.

"I'm fine." He sighs, shaking his head and placing the menu on the table. "Have you decided what you're going to take?"

"I-uhm. . ." I frown, finding his attitude weird. "I'm going to take the lasagna, you?"

"Same." As if on cue, the waitress comes in and takes our orders. She leaves us alone and I take a sip of the red wine, finding it especially sweet and fresh.

"I really love it here," I say, wanting to start a conversation since the silence hovering over us is suffocating. Whatever is tormenting him right now is destroying the perfect atmosphere we had earlier, and I just wish he could open up. "They decorated the place nicely. London has to be my favorite city next to Los Angeles."

"Yeah, I guess." He mutters, his eyes never leaving his glass of wine that he twirls in between his fingers. He ends our small talk like this and we remain silent until our food comes. I'm honestly disappointed by him. I expected this trip to be a lot more fun and exciting, but all he has been so far is distant and lost in his thoughts. Tomorrow we're going to meet the King, so I thought that today would be all about relaxing and enjoying the trip before jumping into the more serious part. I guess he had other plans.