My Wish

Chapter 12

He opened the car door for me, and let me slide into the seat. 

I was completely surprised that we were not going to be escorted in a limo, but a small black cadillac, still very nice of course. 

He slipped himself into the front seat, and before he even buckled himself in he leaned over, took my face in his hands and kissed me. 

I just smiled at him, as he continued to stare into my eyes. 

Then he leaned back, buckled himself in, and said "I know you're wondering why we aren't taking a limo, but I wanted to take you on a proper date, and I thought if I drove you it might be better." 

I noticed him looking down, and him twiddling with his thumbs, hands trembling. 

Is he nervous? 

This would be the first time I've seen him nervous in front of me, a majority of the time it was me, but not anymore because I'm honestly just comfortable with him now. 

But he's nervous, which is actually adorable.

I unentangle his hands, wrap mine in his, turn his head with my index finger so I can see his deep green beautiful eyes and say: "it's perfect, like you." as I leaned in and kissed him.

We started making our way to the restaurant, I had no idea where we were going however. 

As we drove through the dark city of buffalo, the snow reflected off the lights and looked beautiful, especially as we drove higher into the city and we could look down on the lights. 

I was still holding Harry's hand tightly in mine as he drove with the other. 

The car was very small, whcih enabled me to comfortably lean over and rest my head on his shoulder. 

We drove in silence, as I held his hand in mine, and held his arm with the other as I rested my head on his shoulder. 

Occasionally he would kiss my forhead lightly, which he knew I loved. 

Once we arrived at the restaurant. I attempted to open my door for myself, but Harry refused to let me. 

He walked over to my side after parking the car, opened my door, took my hand in his a helped me out. 

He was honestly such a gentleman, even though he is the biggest goof and flirt, I underestimated him.

We were always holding hands, no matter what we were doing. That was our thing. 

It constantly reminded me of a line from my favorite song: "your hand fits in mine, like its made just for me." 

I look down and smile because I couldn't help how happy I was to be where I was at that moment.

As we walked into the doors, I noticed we were at a small, vintage restaurant with minimal seating. 

Little did I know what he had planned.

As we walked by what I thought was all the seating they had, the owner led us into a room in the back, with seating for two. 

We were placed in the middle of the room, a white table cloth draped around old wooden furniture, and velvet red seat cushions tied with bows around the chair for comfort. 

Two glasses of water sat at the table as well as a loaf of bread, with butter. 

The room was small, yet quaint. 

A fire sat across from us, providing the light in the room as well as vintage album CDs hung from the wall. 

As I looked around in awe of how adorable, and perfect this was I looked up at Harry, and he was already looking down at me, I smiled, and squeezed his hand as I looked down.