Direction Dreamer

Chapter Nine

Author's Note: The side picture is of the London Eye, if you don't know what it looks like, that's a photo I took when I visited London a few years back. I didn't go on, but I did take a few photos! It was beautiful lit up at night :)

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Harry and I walked what seemed like miles before stopping at a tiny brownstone café, where he squeezed my hand and we walked it. It looked dead, but I didn’t mind. Less fans to mob the poor thing. I couldn’t imagine getting mobbed every time I walked out my door, it must be pretty miserable. “Do you like it?” he asked, looking rather nervous. “It’s beautiful in here, why is it so dead?” I asked with a giggle. “I wanted it to be private, just us two. You know? I wanted more romance, less crazed fans interrupting. That would ruin it, and I wanted this to be absolutely perfect.” he said, tugging at his tie. “Harry, it’s perfect… this is perfect. You’re perfect.” I said, smiling. A young waitress in a pink shirt and black dress pants walked up to us, scrunching her nose up. “So you’re the one who bought out the café for the afternoon? Rich kid, of course. How can I take your order?” she asked. “I’ll have what my date is having” I said politely, with a little hint of sass for calling my date a “rich kid” which he was, but she was rather rude. What an ego on her. Harry told her what we wanted, and he and I got to talking. “How mad do you this Lou’s going to be?” I asked. “On a scale of one to ten? Twelve!” He said grinning like an idiot. He thought of himself as hysterical and I found that charming. Our food arrived in no time at all, and it was a delicious lunch consisting of salad as an appetizer with some sort of fancy chicken as a main course (I was no food expert like Niall, I had no idea what I was eating!) and for dessert, Harry and I shared a brownie sundae. Our lunch was delicious, but my thighs would pay for that sundae later! After leaving the café, we walked further down the street until we were spotted by a group of fans, who of course attacked. “Harry is that your girlfriend!” from a short blonde girl, “Who is she?!” from a petite Barbie, “Marry me Harry!” from a tall redhead. All questions were irrelevant to us, we just kept walking with the girls trailing behind. Soon the paparazzi made their debut, and even that was disregarded. Questions were thrown around like wreckage during a tornado, and nothing was even affecting him. Some girl threw a half full water bottle at me though, and Harry wasn’t too fond of that. At this point we were dead center in the middle of a cobblestone road, and Harry stopped, only to say “Does this answer your questions?” and before I knew it his hands were cupped around my face and my arms were wrapped around his neck, and his lips pressed against mine with ease. It was salty-sweet but nothing less than perfect. He drew me in deeper and deeper, nothing could sever us apart. Our mouths collided like the waves against the rocks at high tide and for a moment nothing in the world around us existed. I felt fireworks. Once the kiss had ended, I sighed, craving more. My body melted into his as though it was meant to fit there and we embraced as the paparazzi took a million and one pictures, and the fan-girls looked at me like they wanted to throw a thousand full water bottles at me. He grabbed my hand, and we ran. “I’m not sure where we’re going, but keep running love!” he said, and I did. I would have flown to the moon and back if Harry Edward Styles told me to. He had that affect on me. I would have done anything to keep have his heart, but somehow, I already felt like I did. I must have, because he had mine, and I’m still alive. Something had to be beating inside of me. By all means was it a fair exchange.

We ran as far as our feet could take us, and even then Harry could still go. I jumped on his back and he carried me far, far away. I may not be a princess, but I sure felt like one. Nothing else mattered with this boy holding me. He was my everything. I tousled his curls and once he let me down, I didn’t need to beg, but it was a tactic that I was willing to enforce. “Kiss me again” I said. He didn’t question it, didn’t hesitate, and the kiss made me feel like I was flying. I imagined that this was what heaven felt like, and the end was even more of a disappointment than last time. Did it really have to come to an end? It was too surreal to ever want to stop. We ended up catching a bus heading toward the London Eye. It was about 11 miles and 30 minutes away. We boarded the bus like two plain as day passengers, and some fans squealed in delight requesting autographs which Harry granted in a gentlemanly fashion. He was perfect, how could he be interested in me? Should I even be questioning it? Just let things run their course Mik, he must have genuine feelings. We talked the whole ride through, he asked me what I wanted to do with my life, and I told him my dreams, my aspirations and my goals. I wanted to become a journalist or an interior designer, maybe a photographer. I told him I’d never be like the paparazzi though, I wouldn’t sink low enough to degrade others and photograph them rudely. I believed in privacy, not publicity. He listened, and told me he believed in me. He told to reach for the moon and I’d make it. I was too good for the stars, they weren’t worthy of me. He must have told me I was beautiful at least twenty times. With every word spilling out of his mouth my self-confidence was slowly gaining ounce after ounce. All that I’d lost in my time at the hospital, he was replenishing. I had felt so unattractive, my hair was unruly and thin, and everything about me had just been in poor condition. But right here, right now, I felt like the most beautiful girl on the planet. The bus stopped and Harry and I walked off, fingers intertwined perfectly. The spaces in between his fingers was where mine fit perfectly, and I wouldn’t have had it any other way. We waited until dusk to ride The London Eye. Harry wanted me to see London and all of it’s glory, every inch from the enormous Ferris wheel. I didn’t object, it sounded incredible to me. The pods moved so slowly, Harry requested that we have our own private pod, and so we did. The panoramic view from the top and the long thirty minute journey was incredible. From the top I could see London lit up like I had upon arrival, but it was more magical now than it had been then. Harry’s fingers were still interlocked with mine, and he was gazing at me as I “Ooh and ahh’d” at everything around me. We sat on the huge bench in the middle of the pod, with me sitting on his lap. “Baby, will you be my girlfriend?” he asked right as we hit the top. Could I seriously object? I couldn’t. The moment was too perfect, the timing just right, he had his hands wrapped around my stomach and his face buried in my hair, kissing my neck. “Of course love” I said. I couldn’t say how perfect today was enough, how perfect he was. Our date was flawless, and I was dating Harry Styles. That was a weird thought, something I’d never imagine myself saying, ever. It didn’t matter how we’d gotten there, but love knew no boundaries and whether it took up to three days to become an item or thirty, the feeling would still be the same. Once the stargazing, breathtaking journey on The London Eye was over, we took a bus back to Friern Barnet home to our flat.