Phone Call. (HARRY STYLES FANFIC)

Chapter 3

Here it is! The new chapter :) Ooh! I wonder what will happen ;) Vote and comment for faster updates, I really appreciate it :) I'm totally in love with these GIFS that I keep finding on twitter! Can't wait to post more. Happy reading! x

HARRY STYLES

My finger stayed there hovering over my screen for another few seconds, until I finally built up enough courage inside of me to swipe answer.

“Ha-Harry?” I stuttered out, confusion clear in my voice.

“Erm, hey Alicen, I, I just wanted to th- thank-you… yeah, thank-you.” He stuttered shakily.

I had no idea what he was on about.

“Oh, ah, for what exactly?” I had more confidence in my voice this time.

“Well, I didn’t entirely believe you when you said you wouldn’t share my number with everyone on twitter, and, well, I haven’t got any crazed fangirls calling my phone yet, so, ah, thanks!”

“Umm… no problem, Harry, I wouldn’t do that.”

“I guess, but a lot of people would, so, would you like to get a Starbucks or something?”

My whole body froze on the bed, the phone now tightly grasped in my hand as I tried to make sense of this all. Was, was Harry Styles asking me to have a coffee with him because, because I didn’t tell some random people his number? Was this a joke? I honestly couldn’t think straight.

“I mean, ya know, just to thank you of course!” he quickly added, nervously chuckling. There was another silence on the phone. “Alicen? Are you there?”

I finally managed to reply slowly in a small voice.

“Yep. Yep.” I said in a whisper. But wait. He didn’t even know where I lived?

“Ah, one problem Harry… you probably live on the other side of London to my flat?”

“Oh, right,” he said dumbly, “Which part are you on?”

“Do you know Jackson street? Near that big park on the corner?”

“Yeah, of course I do, that’s where my flat is.”

Harry Styles had lived just 2 minutes from my flat this whole time, and no-one ever knew?

“Awesome!” I said a little too happily.  “I live right next door to Starbucks, so, should I, umm… meet you there?”

“Yeah,” he replied, the smile clear in his voice, “I’ll see you in 10 minutes.”

“WHAT!?” I yelped. I tried to regain my calm. “I only have 10 minutes?”

“God, it’s not like you’re meeting the Queen.”

“You don’t meet Harry Styles every day,” I mumbled under my breath, hoping he hadn’t heard me until I made out his soft chuckle on the other end. 

“Well, I’ll meet you for a coffee in 30 minutes, okay?” He said once composed.

“Alright, well, bye, ah, Harry,” I stuttered out, trying my best to sound casual. Once I heard the phone go dead, I literally screamed and ran around my room, stumbling over various items on the floor.

Oh My God.

I was meeting HARRY STYLES in— I glanced down at my phone.

“25 MINUTES!” I exclaimed in disbelief as I realised that I really should get my ass moving. I failingly tried to skip over to my walk in wardrobe, no idea what to wear. Yeah, I was just going out for coffee, but not with just anyone. I tossed clothes across the room, grabbed different tops by the handful, and finally found something that screamed, WEAR ME.

My beautiful pure-white lace dress lay at the bottom of a large glass draw. I couldn’t resist. I scooped it up in my hands and slid it down over my slender arms and now semi-naked body, glancing in the mirror at how it hugged my small curves in all the right places. I couldn’t believe I’d forgotten about this dress, it hadn’t been worn in years… but it still fit perfectly. I launched my body onto the bed again, reaching for my phone. How was time going so quickly? I only had 17 minutes left.

Shit.

I ran to the bathroom, wrenching my straightener out of the cupboard and jamming it into the power socket. I applied a light layer of makeup on my face while waiting for the iron to heat-up. After I’d lightly waved my hair, I glanced in the mirror. I loved this look. I looked so natural. I smiled to myself like an idiot and turned on my heel, racing back to my room. I slid on my dark wedges and took one last look at myself in the mirror before running out of the door with my phone. I walked a few hundred metres before entering Starbucks, the smell of chocolate and coffee wafting through the air. I went and sat in one of the booths, wondering if this was all really happening to me.

If someone had of told me two days ago that I was going to go and have coffee with Harry Styles at Starbucks today, I would have pushed them off a bridge for being insane. But no, here I was, waiting to see a bobbing head of curls. My eyes scanned the room, considering this was all one big joke and I was possibly on some stupid T.V show or something. My gaze flickered over to the door.

There he stood, brown luscious curls and all.

Harry Styles.