a/n: hey... hey... how y'all doin? ð³
anyways sorry for the 18 month break but i'm here with a chapter and things are getting good and juicy like harrys booty so i'm hyped.
anywho enjoy this below-average sized chapter because my brain is fried
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"Thank you again for letting us come up," Harry says to Harry L. as they hold each other in a close hug.
"No problem, love," Harry L. says in return just as they pull away, a pure and bright smile on his face. He then turns to me, his smile remaining. "May I hug you again?"
We both chuckle as I nod, accepting his embrace. Our hug was sweet but short. There was no wonder in my brain why Harry and Harry were friends, considering Harry Lambert may have been one of the kindest people I've ever met.
Maybe it's just something about guys named Harry.
"Well, you two have a lovely rest of your day and let me know in the morning whichever dress you decide on," Harry L. continues, talking in a dismissing tone. "If there's anything you find that you like, don't hesitate to send it to me so I can get it ready for the big night."
The big night. The Brits is such a big deal, and I never even realized. There will be A-list celebrities there...in my presence. And Harry seems to know everyone, so there was an insanely good chance I could be meeting a number of those celebs.
The thought of that made me weak in the knees. I could just hang out around Gemma for the entire show, right?
"Will do." H gives Harry L. a nod. I feel his arm snake around my waist. "We'll let you go...I'm sure you have loads to do."
And with that, we said our goodbyes to Harry Lambert and sent ourselves on our way back home.
Now in the car, Harry and I sit in peaceful silence. That is until he spoke up of course.
"What should we have for dinner?"
I was surprised by his question. I'd honestly expected him to ask me what dress I was going to pick, over even what I thought of Harry Lambert. But no...he asked me one of the most random questions he could have. I mean, it wasn't dinner time yet.
It was only a little afternoon.
"Shouldn't we focus more on lunch?" I ask with a chuckle.
"But dinner takes more planning. Lunch you can just grab because it's often times smaller," he says in a serious tone, getting oddly deep about the difference between lunch and dinner. "We can always stop somewhere for lunch, but dinner is far more intimate. So with that being said, what would you like for dinner, my darling?"
I stare out the window, my mind flipping through all the possibilities of what Mr. Styles and I could have for dinner tonight. This happened to be a struggle I went through every day. Who knew one of the worst things about being an adult would be the decision of what to make for dinner?
But then again, takeout always seemed to be the east route. At least that's how it usually goes for Jess and me. Not the cheapest option, but definitely the quickest and laziest.
As I continue to watch things pass as we drive along, a sign on the front of one of the buildings catches my eye.
"Pizza," I say simply. No matter how hard he tried to fight it, which seemed to be pretty hard, Harry's lips fell into a frown.
"Pizza?" He asks to ensure he heard me correctly and I nod. "Not saying I don't like it, but don't you kind of feel like we have pizza a lot?"
"You can never have too much pizza," I say in a convincing tone, tilting my head to the side as I speak to him.
"Speaking from past experiences, I can confirm...you can indeed have too much pizza." He cranes his head to look at me briefly before turning his attention back to the road before us.
I roll my eyes playfully at him, shaking my head. So negative.
"Well, then what would you like for dinner, Mr. Harry Styles?" I ask, seeing as he wouldn't be in the favor of pizza anytime soon.
"Hmm," he hums thinking out loud. The corner of his mouth curves up before he turns to look at me, the exact same way as before. "Whatever you'd like, Miss Liliana Mason."
"Hypocrite," I mumble to myself, folding my arms and rolling my eyes.
"I'm just messing with you." He reaches over and places a hand on my right thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze. "I'm okay with pizza...but I have an idea to spice it up."
"Do tell," I say in a posh accent. Sometimes, I found myself talking in a British accent unintentionally.
Maybe I've been around Harry a little too long.
"We could make the pizzas from scratch," he suggests, a smile slipping across his lips to show that he was proud of himself for coming up with his idea.
"Do you have the ingredients to make pizza dough?" I ask.
"I'm not sure." He holds the steering wheel steady with his knee - one hand resting on my thigh and the other pinching his bottom lip in concentration. There wasn't much traffic, so I didn't feel any bit unsafe about it. "But either way, we can always have groceries delivered."
"I don't know H," I sigh. "I hate to be a debbie downer, but don't you think it would be easier to just order the pizza?"
"But making it from scratch is so much fun," he argues. "I even have a copy of my mom's favorite dough and sauce recipe. It's so fucking good."
Although I agree with him that it would be a lot of fun to make the pizzas from scratch together, I feel lazy. And dinner feels so far away that who knows if I'll even be in the mood then?
"Think about it L," he says, and I can't help but smile at the nickname, "we'll be at my mum's for dinner in two, and I can guarantee she'll want to cook for you. Plus we had Chinese last night. So how about we cook tonight and get take out tomorrow? That way it'll be like an on and off kind of thing."
Just as I was about to answer, a thought struck my mind. A thought of pasta. A thought of my mom's pasta.
"What if you cook tonight and I cook tomorrow?" I offer. "It could be like we cook for each other. We could even make it a competition if you'd like."
And that last sentence got him. He quickly turns his head to smirk at me.
"I like winning competitions," he says narcissistically. "But what will I win?"
I think it over. Harry already has basically everything, so what more could he possibly want?
"If you win, you can pick your prize," I tell him, honestly taking the easy way out and he smirks at my words. "But if I win-"
"Not a chance," he cuts me off. I roll my eyes at his cocky attitude, although I knew he was joking. I think.
"If I win," I say in a slower tone, eyeing him down so he wouldn't dare cut me off again. I had to come up with something quick, so I just said the first thing that came to mind. "I get to do your makeup."
"Seems like a win-win for me then." He shrugs.
"But you have to wear it when we visit your mom," I add.
"She won't care." He says, shaking his head, chuckling as well. "She probably want you to do hers too."
"You're not very easy, Styles." I frown.
"Not my problem." He shrugs again. I could tell he was joking, but I found myself getting unreasonably frustrated.
I stayed silent and turned to look out the window. That's when I felt my phone buzz from where it was tucked under my thigh.
In desperate need of something to keep me entertained now that Harry and I's conversation had come to an end, I picked it up to check it. And my heart, just as it seems to always do, dropped once I saw the name.
That same name who I've seen a million times in the past week, spamming my phone with unwanted messages.
Noah: Liliana, will you please just answer me?
"Who is it?" H asks out of curiosity, probably noticing the anger flooding out of me and filling up his small sports car.
"Fucking Noah," I grumble, gripping my phone tightly in my hand. Harry opens his mouth to speak, but I quickly cut him off. "And I know how we talked about me blocking him again but I didn't think it would be that big of a deal. But this is just getting annoying at this point."
"In my honest opinion L, it's been annoying. I'm just glad you see it too," Harry says, his voice quieter and softer now. "I mean, does he know that you're with someone? Or at least not interested?"
"Well you'd think he'd take a hint," I say rolling my eyes.
"Maybe you should just tell him," he advises. "Let him know you're not interested or that you're seeing someone, and put an end to it once and for all."
"You're right." I sigh gripping my phone in my hands as I prepare to tap out a reply - one in which I do quickly and angrily, feeling annoyed by his stalkerish behavior.
Lili: Look Noah, I mean this in the nicest way possible, but I am simply not interested. I've tried to hunt around by not responding, but you obviously haven't read into it, so I'm forced to tell you bluntly. I'm seeing someone and I'm very happy, so please stop blowing up my phone.
I quickly tuck my phone back under my leg after I press send, putting it back as I had it before. But just as I did so, my phone buzzed yet again.
Noah: I know you're in London, so would it be okay if we just went out to lunch and talked about it? We could go to Anna's...
How the hell does he know I'm in London?!
Lili: No thank you, Noah. Please stop messaging me, you're making me uncomfortable.
He typed quickly and responded fast as if he had already planned out everything he wished to say.
Noah: How is me expressing my love for you making you uncomfortable? If I were that little boy toy of yours texting you, you would think differently. I'm the problem. What's so wrong with me?
I don't respond. I was unsure of what to do at this point. If I replied, I could say something to anger him even more, but leaving him on read didn't do much good either. I was stuck.
Noah: You know what?
Noah: Fuck you
Noah: And Harry
And that last sentence made my heart jump right out of my chest and my stomach sink into a pit of darkness.
He knows I'm in London...with Harry.
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a/n: lol