inspirations // harry styles

chapter twenty-one // i think we're alone now.

Olivia's POV

Harry speeds and weaves through traffic, driving like a madman. I feel as if I've landed myself in that one scene from Twilight. The thought makes me giggle, and so does the thought of Harry trying to use the sexy smoulder like Edward does.

Although I want to be mad at Harry for nearly giving me a heart-attack as he practically dragged me from the party, the spontaneity of his little plan made up for it. This is the kind of things I live for; spur of the moment decisions. They always make for the best memories.

"And I'm guessing I won't find out where we're headed until we're there?" I ask, casting a glance over to Harry, who's been surprisingly quiet.

He looks over to me as if I had interrupted his thoughts. The corners of his lips twist up, barely revealing those dimples of his.

"Your guess would be correct," He smirks, causing me to narrow my eyes at him.

"Is this like one of those secret tests? Where the girl gets pulled away by a mysteriously handsome stranger and he takes her to a private location where he's going to chop her up into a million pieces, but then the cameras pop up and the girl gets scolded for making stupid decisions?" I ask, fighting back a smile of my own.

Harry throws his head back with laughter, laughing louder than I think I have ever heard him laugh before. I enjoy making him laugh. I wouldn't mind spending all my time trying to get that adorable laugh and smile from him.

It's rather pathetic, really.

"You think I'm mysteriously handsome?" He gives me one of his most famous smiles where the mischief just gleams in his green eyes.

"Avoiding the question; never a good sign," I avoid answering his question, giving him a mischievous smile back.

It's insane how different Harry and I are, yet we seem to fit so perfectly. He was dying to get away from a stuffy party that was the most exciting thing to ever happen to me. I can't even imagine living the life he does; waking up every morning knowing that half of the population is dying to meet him.

How can two people who are on two total different sides of the spectrum get along so well? It doesn't make sense to me. The fact that Harry still finds me interesting enough to date doesn't make sense to me. None of this makes sense to me. I don't think it ever will.

But I'm okay with staying with him until it does make sense.

* * * *

Harry pulls into the parking lot of a rather large, industrial-looking building. I raise an eyebrow as I look at the building's boring gray color. This is what he pulled me away from the party to show me? One of LA's many buildings in the heart of the city.

"Uh-oh," Harry mutters under his breath.

Almost instantly, the car is swarmed with a large group of teenage girls. The boys must come to this place often for the local fans to know about it.

Unsure of how in the hell I'm going to be able to get out without knocking over a good portion of the group, I stay in my seat and wait for Harry to make the first move. Nervousness creeps up in my stomach since we're currently without any bodyguards.

That's the joy of being spontaneous; it isn't always the safest thing in the world.

"I'll help you out, just stay put," Harry tells me as he opens his own door.

"HARRY! HARRY! I LOVE YOU, HARRY! CAN I HAVE A PICTURE, HARRY? HARRY!" He is instantly met with frantic screams as girls try to push their way to get to him.