The Writer (AU)

Chapter Seven-

Walking through the restaurant doors, warm air mixed with the air conditioning and the familiar scent engulfed my nostrils. Smiling as we walked toward the hostess stand, I could practically see the short, petite blonde eye raping him.

"Name?" Her devilishly red lips grinned widely, chewing almost horse-like on her gum.

"There should be a reservation under Styles," Harry replied cooly.

"Right this way." Her voice sounded like one of those phone sex operators. Bitch. Sitting down in the booth and sliding next to Harry, I made sure to put on my best fake smile as the hostess handed us our menus. What? I had a right to be jealous! Harry was out with me. Okay, so maybe I didn't have any right to be jealous, but let's be honest. He was hot and I didn't want any other girl trying to sink into him. He was all mine. Oh god, I really just thought that.

"So what's good here?" Harry asked, snapping me from my own craziness.

"Everything," I mumbled.

"What did you usually get with your mom?"

"Ever time we came, we got something different. I've had everything on the menu except two things. "

"I was thinking about getting the Chicken stuffed with mozzarella, wrapped in Parma ham with," he paused, scanning the side dishes. "Their homemade mashed potatoes. Have you had that?"

"It's my favorite dish," I blushed.

"I'll get that then," Harry smiled, his dimples on full display.

"I'm getting the veal saltimbocca. It's one of the dishes I've never had," I couldn't help but smile.

"I've heard it tastes like chicken," he whispered. We both began to laugh and I was suddenly aware that we were actually having a good time. Smiling as our waitress came over, I about shit a brick. She had long, brown hair, wide blue eyes, and a great body to match and I could see her eyeing Harry as she walked up.

"Hi, I'm Ashley, I'll be waiting on y'all tonight. What can I get y'all to drink?" she smiled widely.

"I'll take a water please," I smiled.

"What about you?" she beamed, looking at Harry.

"What's the best wine you have here?" he asked, flipping the menu.

"Merus. It's a Cabernet Sauvignon, very good."

"Year?" Harry asked, arcing an eyebrow.

"2009."

"We'll take a bottle of that."

"Do y'all need a few minutes to look over the menu or are we ready?"

"We're ready," Harry replied looking at me with a small smile.

"What can I get you?" Chomping on her gum with a smile. Why the fuck did everyone at this restaurant have a damn piece of gum in their mouths?

"'May I have the Chicken stuffed with mozzarella, wrapped in Parma ham with the homemade mashed potatoes."

"And for you?" She asked, looking at me with no smile.

"May I have the veal saltimbocca, please? With grilled asparagus as the side?"

"I'll be right back with your drinks and some bread," she nodded, winking at Harry before walking away. I wasn't going to make it through this dinner.

"Are you eighteen?" I whispered.

"No, but we're tall enough that she doesn't need to card us and we look old enough," he smiled widely.

"How do you know she won't card you?"

"She is obviously blatantly flirting with me." I tried to keep my displeasure to myself. Long story short, I epically failed.

"You shouldn't be jealous," Harry chuckled after a few minutes of silence.

"W-what? I'm not jealous," I laughed unconvincingly.

"Ellie, it's okay. I'm here with you. Plus, she doesn't do anything for me. Her makeup is too heavy," he shook his head, wrinkling his nose.

"Oh."

"Plus, I'd much rather have my hand on your leg than hers," he whispered, placing his warm, large hand on my thigh as I saw the waitress coming back. "Let's give her a run for her money." His lips met my cheek and I heard my glass of water slam down on the table.

"Here you are," Ashley said flatly, only slightly smiling at Harry. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from cursing her out and leaned into Harry's side, placing my hand on the back of his neck.

"Thank you," I smiled widely. It felt weird to be showing Harry physical affection. I wasn't used to giving or receiving it from anyone other than my family. A hug or kiss on the cheek here and there was all my dad seemed to give. Harry generously poured wine between our two glasses with a slight smile before holding his to mine.

"To us," he smiled.

"To your luck with winning," I teased and our glasses touched, both of us taking a sip. The smooth liquid snaked down my throat and it was surprisingly smooth.

"This is really great." I took a rather large sip before ripping the bread and taking a bite.

"It really is," Harry blushed and I had a feeling he was talking about more than the wine.