Trouble!

Well why would he?…but I’m heartbroken none the less. Shit! my train! I turn and bolt to the platform, tears welling in my eyes. Its crazy really, I mean I’ve met Harry Styles! Touched him! I should be elated and feeling like the luckiest girl alive; in truth I feel crushed, I’m never going to see him again! I reach the platform to see my train sliding purposefully away. For Fucks sake!

I stop and catch my breath, the vision of Harry driving away cruelly replaying in my mind. What was I going to do now? I’d better call mum and dad, let them know I missed the train. Then suddenly I realise…REALLY! I didn't have my bag! I die a small death inside as I realise I’d put it in the box on Harry’s bike! I slump to a bench, hiding my face as tears fall. I didn't have a phone, purse, keys nothing! I spent a few minutes trying to pull myself together, before I could think straight.

What would he do when he found my bag? He’d probably just hand it straight into the police. OK, I just needed to find the nearest police station and… “Hey!” I look up, it’s Harry! My heart thuds back into place again. He still has his helmet on, visor up. I assume so he doesn't get recognised.

He sits down, concerned. “Are you Ok?” I’d been crying, of course, oh God! bet I looked awful! “Yeah, I just missed the train.” I say. “and forgot your bag?” he adds, setting it down by my feet. “That too!” I say. “Thank you so much for bringing it back.” I can’t really see him with the helmet on, can’t make out what he’s thinking. “Can I give you a lift somewhere? he offers I reply with a smile, “Leeds.” “I knew you were trouble when you walked in!” he says. “Touche!” I add with a beaten nod. Harry looks around, “hey lets just get out of here for now?”

We’re back on the bike and I’ve no idea where we’re going but I sincerely hope its not Leeds! As we drive I see we’re getting, closer to the river. Its dark now and dropping cold. He pulls off the main road and down a cobbled alley. The alley opens out into a delightful courtyard with a small taverna. Strings of fairy lights festoon the entrance, leading through to a long low ceilinged bar. The place has a relaxed shabby, student vibe, with low sofas and dripping candles; I like it immediately.

At the bar, Harry turns to me, “red wine for you?” “Great, yeah, just sling one over here!” I say, as I point to my chest. (Maybe I need to drop the smart-ass thing?) But he laughs and checks out my chest for a second. “White actually please” I ask. “Sure” he responds. The bartender seems to know him. As I look around, I notice other well known people hiding in the shadows. It was like going down diagon Alley! “I’ve never heard of this place?” I say a bit confused. “Oh it’s not a public bar,” he says, leading me to a table. “This is someones house!” he explains. I’m intrigued, “Really who?”

“Ah then I’d have to kill you,” he grins. BTW that wouldn’t take him too long. He just looks so incredibly hot I was already half dead! I had no idea how I was going to keep myself together. As he unzips layers, I see an open front shirt, tattoos a smoothly defined chest. Oh Christ! I take a huge gulp of wine.

He watches me, smiling at my nervousness. For a moment, I think he’s going to compliment me, ask me if I have a boyfriend maybe, then…“Knock knock?” He starts, grinning like kid. I’m so stupid of course he’s not interested in me! “Who’s there?” I ask, a bit deflated. “Harry,” he answers. “Harry who?” I ask. “Harry up and open he door, its cold out here!” He’s so damn cute. “That’s terrible!” I exclaim. “but can I come in?” he murmurs…

This comment hangs there until…”I need the toilet!” I say leaping up. Now I’ve blown it! I think as I head to the bathroom, why did I say that? and did he mean what I think he means? Firstly I’m worried about helmet hair, the state of my face after crying and if I’m honest, I need a second to get my head round this one.

The toilets are mental, lots of bizarre and distracting photos. Naked women. Tied up women, men looming over them. Strange. I was however, pleasantly surprised by my reflection. I don't wear much makeup anyway but I would have liked some lip balm.

As I leave, he’s there examining the photos in the hallway. “Well?” he challenges, “who’s house is this?” I shrug, running my eyes over the pictures. His eyes sparkle, “come on you’re not even trying!” As I step forward to examine a picture, Harry leans in, looking at it with me. His face is so close I could turn and lick him.

“OK so picture of a chimp cuddling a naked woman?” I say. “Let me guess, Michael Jackson? I ask tentatively. “Yeah,” he laughs, “back from the dead and living in London?”

He pulls away and points to another picture. “try this one he says.” and moves in right behind me again. This time he bends in closer. I can feel the warmth of his skin on my face…and I can’t help myself. I move my face to touch his, ever so gently, like it could be a mistake. Then…my heart thumps, as I feel the graze of his stubble on my cheek, his mouth gently meets my skin. A soft kiss, so close to my own lips. The merest touch of his finger on my elbow pulling me to lean back into his body. I’m feel briefly enclosed by him, as he moves his mouth to my neck then…

…”Harry! When did you get back?” and the moments broken. We pull apart and turn to see a beautiful slim blonde, her arms open to Harry. “Hey! Rebecca, great to see you!” He says and hugs her affectionately Then she's straight into some anecdote about the last time they hung out. I feel silly now, she looks like a model, just the kind of girl he should be with. Was with, is with! for all I know. I keep staring at the photos, tears pricking my eyes. Oh please don't let me cry in front of him! Then I realise! This is all stupid, I don't belong here and I certainly don't belong with him. I see an exit and head for it before I make a total fool of myself.

Notes