YOUNGBLOOD » HARRY STYLES

7

I hadn't heard from Heather for the rest of the day, so I decided to pay my dog a visit back at Dad's. Arlon was so excited to see me when we arrived that his tail was whacking everything within reach. "How about you go walk him down by the beach?" My dad asked and I nodded, grabbing his leash straight away.

Outside, the wind was strong, tempting me to go back and get my paddle board and invite my dad along. Many seagulls flew in the sky, their famous chirp complimenting the sound of the waves crashing on the pebbly shore. If only I knew yesterday, when I was here before Heather called me, how things would've played out.

Many people were walking on the beach, letting the tide lap at their ankles as they talked amongst their friends and family along the water. Dogs struggled to run after frisbees and balls on the rocks, their tongues hanging out of their mouthes because of the heat. A little ice cream store next to merry-go-round was doing well, with a queue of about 20 people waiting to order something. I didn't look twice because I had only just finished my breakfast and I couldn't bare the thought of eating again. There was also the constant thought of my response to Harry that I kept having to push to the back of my mind. Instead, I focused on how happy Arlon seemed to be amongst the birds and barking at other dogs.

I walked down to the shore where the rocks were a little smaller and less wobbly, and let Arlon off his leash. He ran off to find a stick straight away, only to bring it back to me and sit down, staring at me whilst patiently waiting for me to throw the stick for him again. I chucked it into the water and tried to save myself from getting splashed by Arlon as he jumped in after it, wagging his tail as he swam back with the stick in his mouth. When he stood on the shore again, he shook out all the water from his fur, leaving me looking as if I jumped into the water too.

Great. Totally the look I was going for.

As if I wasn't drenched in sweat already anyway though.

Oh well.

I reattached him to his leash and then decided to look for some shade to cool off and dry ourselves off in. An ice cream seemed very inviting right now, so we made our way over, careful not to step on any of the dried seaweed that washed up on the shore on the way there (because that's gross). Only once we approached it did I realise there were people there I recognised, and they weren't particularly the people I was hoping to see at the moment.

There stood Harry in all his glory, leaning against the side of the ice cream stand in a pair of brown and white striped trousers and a white collared tee, with a brown hat to guard his brown locks from the sun. The sunglasses is what threw me off at first, and I really had to focus to figure out it was him.

Clyde was there too and he, on the other hand, was still wearing his black bullet proof vest and chunky black trousers with plenty of bulky pockets in them. Christ, he must be swimming in his own sweat in an outfit like that in this heat.