-HARRY POV-
"See, it wasn't that bad was it?" I say to Lilah behind me as I stare the the restaurant sign. It's a pretty nice place from what I've been told. I asked Alex and he told me I should come here if I want to have a good time in a place that's not Burger King.
"I hope you remember I suffer from panic attacks" she replies.
"Please, you weren't panicked, you just wanted to wrap your arms around me" I laugh it off and try to steer away from the subject but I wish that night at the party didn't happen, mainly because I acted like a fucking idiot, then I saw her there alone in the dark room and I started to panic because she was panicking and it all went to shit. I'm a right twat when I'm drunk. I like being a twat.
I step into the place and Lilah follows behind me. I thought this was supposed to be nice... I mean, it's designed alright and stuff but I can just spot all the pretentious idiots eating here with their head stuck up their asses. Those are the type of people who keep their elbows off the table and eat with silver cutlery. Maybe Burger King would've been better after all.
It's not even the fact that they keep their elbows off the table and eat with silver cutlery, it's the fact that they think they're better than other people just because they do those things. I can spot those kind of people from a mile.
"How many?" a waiter in a silver tie comes up and asks me. He's taller than me looks kinda Mexican, he also doesn't look like a snob thank god.
"Table for two please" I respond.
"Okay, I'll write you down. What's your last name?" he takes out a note pad from the little pocket in his tuxedo jacket and a pen from the other. The pen is silver too.
"Styles" I say and he writes it down quickly, I'm the first name on a new page. He also wrote it wrong, as in "Stiles" but I can't be bothered to correct him, he got the gist.
"Got it, but you'll have to wait 15 to 20 minutes for a table. I'm afraid we're pretty busy today"
Excuse me?
"Are you fucking joking?" I "ask" him. Of course it's a rhetorical question but this is fucking ridiculous. You spend so much money on your fancy wallpaper, tables and tiles and inviting people who use silver cutlery to match your ties and pens to make the customers wait a quarter of an hour. Fucking. Ridiculous. I don't need this.
"Excuse me sir?" I almost want to laugh because he's taken completely off guard by me. He may look Mexican but he doesn't sound like a foreigner at all. Pretty educated if anything. "I can always write you off the list Mr. Styles" he continues.
"No" I quickly say. I may not give two shits about this place or eating here or eating at home but I asked Lilah out and I'm going to take her out properly. "We will... wait" I groan and look at her. She looks so fit.
"You'd think for such a fancy or at least not shitty place they wouldn't make you wait, and outside too" Hopefully she agrees.
"Ugh, I know right" she says sarcastically. I guess not.
"You know..." I slowly snake my hand around her waist "That outfit makes you look legal. It makes me feel like less of a craddle snatcher" I joke. I always say that she looks really young, which she does but tonight she looks good. Like really good. I never realised how long her legs were until I saw her in this dress. Or skirt, whatever. She rolls her eyes at me. I kinda like how she does that.
"Yeah maybe I shouldn't get involved with such an old man. And I think it's a little too late for that"
"Too late for what?"
YOU ARE READING
Good Intentions - Harry Styles Fanfic
Fanfiction*** A.N: Okay so, I wrote this story when I was very young, and now, over 3 years later, I realise that the story is definitely not as good as I thought it was (in fact it's pretty bad). Why do I say this? Because if any of you read this and think "...
