Wistful Paradise / H.S. [COMPLETE]

Eightteen - 2012

Harry

My feet blindly followed Florence through the room, she was a natural. She was graceful and born for this, whereas I was absolutely scared. She helped me through though and now it was time to meet her parents, the people who hosted this event.

"I don't know if I can meet them," I admitted gently, trying to pull her back.

Florence turned to me, she bit her lip as her eyes scanned the room. "I can't really tell you anything about my parents to ease your nerve though," She admitted. "I'd feel bad."

I chuckled, but the smile on my face disappeared as soon as her hand reached for mine. "You sure you can't tell me anything?"

"No, my parents are perfect," She boasted, pulling me along while I staggered behind her with a huff. "Just kidding, but they are amazing. You'll see."

Florence's parents' were talking to James and it kind of helped me ease my nerves to know that he was there with them. "The man of the hour," James smiled as he introduced me to the people around him. "Romeo, Nicole, this is Harry Styles, my date."

"Oh, James," Nicole, her mother, chuckled, her hand hitting her chest as she leaned closer towards her husband before smiling up at me. "Nice to meet you, Harry. I'm Nicole."

My hand wrapped around hers as she introduced herself. My mother always told me handshakes are important. It tells you how much power a person feels he has. So when I noticed the tight grip on my weak one, I realised how uncomfortable I felt.

Surely, when Florence's father looked at me, the ground fell from underneath my feet. I already knew he was one of those overprotective fathers and I've been hanging around his daughter all night. "So, you've met my daughter?"

"Uhm, yeah. She's really nice," I murmured, offering a hand to her father. He shook it hard and muttered under his breath.

"Sure, she is."

"Oh, uhm, no. No-not like that, sir. I-I mean, she's great and, and re-really nice to me and it's not like that. I-I promis-" The stuttering mess I call myself was stopped abruptly by Florence.

The extraverted, Italian beauty rolled her eyes as she leaned into him. She looked at him with pure adoration while scolding him. "Lascialo in pace, papà."

I thanked my sixteen-year-old self for taking an Italian seminar for a school trip to Rome, so now I could easily follow the talk between the two of them.

While Florence scolded her dad to leave me alone, her father told her instead that he doesn't trust me.

I don't trust myself either in these situations, Mr De Lucchi. So that makes two of us.

Florence simply glared at him, the blue eyes narrowing until they were barely visible before telling her father that she does in fact trust me. She was sticking up for me to her father and while I appreciated her for doing it, I still didn't know why.

Why did she want to talk to me and why she helped me. I'm hopeless, well that's what I've been told by everyone in high school.

They always looked at me like I was some weirdo and in some kind of sense, I was. I was always in my own head, creating melodies and lyrics to songs that no one my age could even reciprocate.

And when Jeff spotted me and saw my potential I felt like laughing at all of those bullies who were still learning about how survival of the fittest actually works.

"Papà," Florence smiled endearingly at her father and even I knew that she was trying to bribe her father. "Harry and I are leaving." My eyes bulged out of their sockets, not wanting to be involved in this conversation after barely saving myself the first time.