Trust Me (A Harry Styles Fan-Fic)

Chapter 3

Bethany's POV

 I listened to Chace as he talked about what he's doing with the business while I did my makeup. My hair was finally curled. All that was left was the bright red lipstick that I was going to put on. If I'm being honest, I look like Marilyn Monroe. Even the dress I have is just like her. 

The long full length ball gown is a champaign color. The deep plunge at the front of the dress shows off most of my cleavage. It's tight all the way down to mid-thigh where it seems to flow down to my feet. It was very sparkly, something I wouldn't normally choose, but for the occasion, it was very fitting. 

I slipped it on after putting my heals on, and zipped it up. I'll admit, I felt confident in this. It made me feel... beautiful? I don't really know, but there was something about it that just felt so right. It was perfect for me, but I hoped Chace would think so too. 

"Holy..." I heard his deep voice behind me, making me snap around to face him. His jaw was slightly parted as he took in the dress. 

"Is it okay?" 

"Holy fuck yes." He gulped and I watched his adams apple bobbing hard. His eyes were dark, intimidating... but in the best way possible. 

"You ready then?" I ask slightly timidly. 

"If it means we get to come home sooner and I get to peel you out of that dress, than yes. Let's go."

He grabs my hand, kissing my cheek lightly as we begin to walk towards the front door. It's felt with a comfortable silence. Neither one of us speaking a word. The only noise I can hear is my heels clanking against the ground as I walk. Occasionally I would feel him stare down at me, but I could never look back up at him. Something felt weird between us. It wasn't a bad feeling, but it made me giddy. Like really very excited and happy. 

The drive over was quiet, nothing was really being said again. The limo was filled with soft jazz music. The driver would hum along to it, and tap his finger on the steering wheel. Chace would lean over and kiss the side of my head every once in a while. Sometimes he'd whisper something in my ear about how beautiful I looked or how much he loved me before I'd smile and kiss his lips lightly. It was quiet, but it's all I needed to know he loved me. 

He hasn't bought me a gift since our anniversary. It's been three weeks and Thanksgiving was in two days. His mom would be coming to LA and arriving tomorrow night. He was a nervous wreck, and although he didn't like to show it, I could tell he was nervous. He was quieter than usual. I'd get the occasional sentence out of him, but most of the time I'd be the one talking and he'd give me a few words in response. 

"We are here miss." The driver informs us, and I thank him quietly. 

When the door opens, the flashes immediately blind me, and I have to adjust me eyes to the bright lights. Chace is out of the car, offering his hand to me so I can stand up. When I exit, there is a small gasp from the crowd of people, but the flashes only get brighter. I look up to Chace and he presses a kiss to my forehead before whispering in my ear that it'll be okay. That this is for a good cause. 

We are told we need to spend a solid half an hour on the carpet, just to do interviews. They are really trying to get the word out there for this cause, and I'll do anything to help it. I know it'll involve a lot of questions regarding my personal life and my relationship, but I can avoid anything if I need to. 

We pose a bit, sometimes we look at each other and laugh, other times we just smile at the camera before moving down the carpet. It's wonderful really. There are so many people here to support the cause. I just wish I was along for more of it so I could understand all the hard work that went into it. 

"Should we do an interview now or?" Chace asks and I nod my head. 

"Probably... I guess we'll start left and go right?" I suggest and he nods his head. 

The sea of reporters is terrifying really. There are so many of them, and they all want to interview us. We stop at some new channel first, seeing as the lady looked the nicest. She was about 45, and very pretty. Dressed nicely too. She wasn't screaming our name or begging that we go talk to her. She just stood there politely and waited for us. 

"Bethany Smith and Chace Adams. It's so nice to meet you." She starts off, shaking our hands. 

The interview goes slowly. She doesn't ask any questions reguarding Chace and I. Most of them are about the charity, and luckily I did my research so I was able to answer every single on of them. She was nice, occasionally she would go off topic and ask about my dress and what I planned on doing this even. Sometimes Chace would butt in, but most of the time he stayed quiet, just smiling and holding me to his side. 

The next interview was with an younger woman, more around the age of 25. She gave Chace a few looks, making me chuckle. He was completely oblivious too it. He'd just look down at me and kiss my cheek or my shoulder or my head. He answered her questions since that's who the woman took the time to interview. One time she rested her hand on his bicep and he started laughing so hard we had walk away. He of course made the situation impossibly funnier than it already was, joking about how she was oblivious to the fact that he was madly in love with me. The fact itself made me want to kiss him- so I did.

We did a few more interviews. Most of these were about Chace and I. A few were asking personal questions, others not so much. Some were along the lines of marriage and others along the lines of children. Neither of us knew what to respond with so we just simply said we'd get back to them on that. 

When a red carpet manager came and asked us if we could simply pose for a few more photos, we accepted, seeing as it was the right thing to do. We posed again, this time having a light conversation with each other. Most of the time we were bantering about which interview we thought was the most awkward or which one had the most obscene questions. 

Everything was light and airy. The conversation was all full of jokes and playful teasing. Occasionally he’d let his hand slide a little too low off my hip and down onto my ass, making me swat at his hand with a laugh. He was definitely doing it because he knew the paps wanted a show, so he was going to give them one. Sometimes I’d tell him to stop more seriously if they started screaming crude things at us, but most of the time I’d just laugh and move his hand away. People were entertained, giving us amused smiles. 

My smile remained on my face, not moving once. Occasionally I’d drop my smile because my face would hurt or they’d ask Chace and I to move our positions. He’d whisper things in my ear, telling me things to make me laugh hysterically. Sometimes he’d kiss my shoulder, or my cheek. One time he kissed my hand, and the cameras went absolutely crazy. 

But when I looked away from Chace, there was a split second where I thought the world had stopped. 20 feet away from me stood a young man, dressed in probably one of the most dapper suits I’d ever seen. His body language was tight. All his muscles were so clenched together you could see the suit straining. His face was glaring at Chace with the most horrific expression. It was as if Harry’s eyes were guns shooting bullets into Chace’s head. When we established eye contact, he looked away immediately but only after he sent me a look of disappointment. 

“What’re you looking at, doll?” I hear Chace’s voice in my ear and I shutter back. 

You’re letting Harry get to you. 

“Nothing, sorry. Why don’t we go inside now? Yea?” 

I grab his hand and pull him towards the doors of the ballroom. His eyes remain forward as we walk up the stairs. I can’t help but turn around to look back at Harry one last time. His eyes are worried, scared really. But it’s once he mouth’s something to me that I feel my stomach drop and my heartbeat fasten up. 

“He’s a cheater.”