Louis P.O.V.
“Who’s your favorite poet?” I asked Harry, looking at him in admiration, watching as he took a sip of his coffee.
“Edgar Allen Poe, definitely. I grew up reading his poems and stories.” He told me, smiling up at me, showing his adorable dimples.
We were sitting in Barista’s, asking each other simple questions and learning more about each other. He’s so interesting to me, from the way he explains his love of literature to the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles wide enough. This boy has me feeling some sort of way, and I don’t want the feeling to fade away at all. I’ve only been on two dates with him, but I know he’s the one for me. I want to protect him in every single way I can.
“Lou?” I heard his deep voice say quietly, and I blinked over at him, chuckling.
“Sorry, darling. I must’ve dazed off.” I said, and he nodded.
“Can I ask you sort of a personal question?” He said shyly, moving some of his hair out of his eyes.
“Of course, Harry. I’m open to answering anything.”
“How do you feel about me, honestly?”
This question threw me off a little bit.
“Harry Styles, well, I think you’re the loveliest boy I’ve ever had the chance of meeting.” I told him, his cheeks burning up with a small blush.
“Would you ever think of taking this further and making us an official couple?” His eyes trailed anywhere but mine after this question, like he was scared of the answer.
“Anyone would be honored to call you theirs, me especially.” I explained, reaching my hand forward to cup his jaw, turning his head so he’s looking me in the eyes. “I’d love to make us an official couple. I just want you to be ready for it.” He nodded into my hand, and I could feel him relax.
“I am ready for it, Louis. You make me feel safe.” He shook his head, a small chuckle escaping his lips. “That was cheesy, but it’s true. You do make me feel safe.”
“Well then, Mr. Styles, be mine?” I asked him, and I swear, his smile could’ve broken his face if he was a glass doll.
“Of course, Mr. Tomlinson.” He almost whispered, and he leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to my lips.
I forgot we were inside a café, until I heard quiet ‘aw’s from the table of girls behind us. I pulled away, a smile on my face, my hand reaching forward to lace my fingers with his. I looked down at our hands, seeing how big his hand was compared to mine. I could get used to this.
