[Jenny]

Finally, Harry and I arrive at the restaurant. We’ve both remained quiet for the longest time now, it feels like the drive went on for hours. My eyes make their way over to him as he pulls into a parking spot, not too far from the door. He puts his car in park and sighs, pulling out the key. Without a word, Harry gets out of the car, adjusting his clothing as he stands in the evening air - the sun has almost disappeared in the sky. However, the orange glow stays strong enough to shine on Harry’s tan skin.

Releasing my own sigh, I reach between my feet for my purse. I take out my lip gloss and pull down the visor, the mirror is dust and scratch free. As I’m reapplying the gloss on my lips, Harry opens my door, his hand extended out to me. I drop the tube back into my purse right before I sit my palm on top of his.

He clutches my hand as I get out of his car, letting him shut the door behind me. He gives me a gentle squeeze when he takes a seat towards the door, the beginning of our trip inside. He’s never held my hand this long but I don’t mind it. He guides me to the front entrance and, with his free hand, pulls the door open. Of course he allows me to go ahead of him while still keeping my grip on his large, warm hand.

I feel a few eyes roam to our presence as Harry goes to the hostess’s podium. He greets her kindly, making me roll my eyes. He’s so charming, so naturally social - I can’t relate to that at all.

“Reservations?” She asks him, a smirk coming over her red lips.

My watch on her intensifies, I don’t want her thinking she has the right to make a move on him. Clearly he’s occupied with someone else, she ought to notice me - I’m not invisible and she doesn’t appear to be blind.

“Styles.” He tells her, no obvious emotions in his tone. That gives me some comfort - at least I know he isn’t interested in anything she’s trying to show off.

“Is your first initial D or H?”

Quickly I notice Harry’s face grow rather pale. He clears his throat, taking a second to breathe before answering her.

“H.”

The hostess asks us to follow her, and another girl takes her spot to tend to the people behind us. Harry gestures for me to go first, but not before he adjusts our hands. He slides his long fingers between each of mine, slotting us together. I smile gently, the fire inside of me is rapidly spreading - lighting up every inch of me.

I follow the woman, who’s dress is nearly too short for her. Part of me wants to do nothing but insult her in my head, yet the other half just wants to mind my own business and get away from her as quick as I can. The fact that she thought she had some sort of opportunity to flaunt her exaggerated cleavage and flip her medium length black hair over her shoulder flirtatiously makes me want to throw my fists at her face. Is it possible that I’m jealous?

When she leaves us alone at our table, after lingering for far too many seconds, I decide to address Harry about what I witnessed. And I’m not referring to that hostess.

“Are you alright?” I question, my eyebrows furrow as I further observe his behavior.

His eyes are darting all around, almost as if he’s fearing the thought of being seen by someone. Two or three times he runs his fingertips over his bottom lip, tugging it in the process. He doesn’t acknowledge me talking to him, which is quite odd. Normally he can’t take his eyes off me - I’m not bragging, just being honest..

“Harry?” I call his name out, my voice a little louder than I wish. I have to grab his attention somehow.

“Hmm?” He snaps his head straight, eyebrows lifting on his forehead.

“I said.. are you alright?”

Almost instantly, he starts to glance around again, making me feel like I’ve failed. However, after a short moment, his eyes lock on mine and he lets a deep exhale slip out.

“M’fine.”

Easily I can tell his words are untruthful. “You’re acting anxious. What’s the matter?”

He rests his hands on the table, and begins to absentmindedly pick at the skin around his thumb.

“Don’t do that.” I say, reaching across to push his fingers down.

He withdraws his hands back to his lap, those emerald eyes come back to mine. Anyone would be able to see how nervous he looks right now. Harry huffs lightly, running a hand through his neatly sculpted hair.

“It’s nothing.” He attempts to assure me, shrugging his shoulders carelessly.

“I’ve known you long enough to know when you’re worried about something.” I tell him, not wanting to ignore this anymore. “And you’re freaking out. So please.. tell me.”

“Jenny.” Harry mumbles my name, I love the way he says it - his accent makes me tingle.

“Harry.” I mock his sigh.

Just as his lips part to speak back, a waitress appears at our table. She’s dressed in an elegant, knee length black dress - a smile stuck on her face.

“Would you care to start off with some wine tonight?” She asks with a sly smirk, her full focus is on Harry. Her body is turned towards him, ignoring me entirely.

“We’re fine. I’ll take an ice water.” Harry’s eyes look over to me, an apologetic smile comes to his lips. He turns his head back up, speaking to her again. “So will my girl.”

I see the girl snarl before she walks away to get our drinks. Immediately I make a remark regarding Harry’s sentence.

“Your girl?” I cock an eyebrow, waiting for this to be explained to me.

“I could have said my wife, that would’ve gotten her heated.” He chuckles, glancing down at the menu sitting on the table.

A sting occurs in my heart, he can’t be serious right now. The fact he only said that to annoy the waitress makes me want to vomit. He clearly doesn’t consider us to be in any sort of relationship. I thought he was saying that to get a reaction out of me.. not her.

“Just using me as a joke.. hm.” I mumble to myself, knowing surely he heard me.

“Jenny, I didn’t mean it like that.” Hurry quickly realizes how it sounded. His hand grabs my fingers, squeezing gently. “You know you’re my girl.”

“Am I though, Harry? Seems like everyone’s got their eyes on you.” I say coldly, aware that at least three women are currently staring him down - even while he’s holding my hand.

“You are. And I don’t care about anyone else. I’m not looking back at them, I’m looking at you, love. There’s only you.” He smiles sweetly at me, an assuring expression on his face.

“I doubt..” I shake my head lightly to myself, silencing my words before I say something I would regret.

“Will you be my girlfriend?” Harry blurts out, his eyes steady on my shocked gaze.

“Wh-what?” I stammer, my nerves taking over now. He’s got to be joking, right?

“I want you to be my girlfriend. Officially.” His smile turns bigger. Showing me his white teeth and deep dimples.

“I.. um.” I take a deep breath, my eyes looking anywhere but at his handsome face.

“You don’t have to. Don’t let me pressure you.”

“Harry, I.. I just don’t know..” I bite down in the inside of my cheek, this has to be a joke.

Harry rubs his thumb over my knuckles, trying to relax my nerves. I’m sure he can feel how tense I am.

“Wait.. you aren’t just asking me because I got mad, are you?” I start to feel a bit worried, what if things aren’t as good as they seem and he’s just trying to get me to stop.

“Are you kidding me?” Harry huffs, “Ever since our first date ended I’ve wanted you to be my girlfriend. I was just scared of asking.” He declares, a little blush rises to his cheeks.

“Harry Styles was scared? Hard to believe.” I smirk, which only results in him becoming more red.

“Terrified.”

“What-what about my daughter?” I sigh out, almost letting the thought of her existence slip out of my mind.

“What about her?” Harry asks, furrowing his thick brows at me.

“She’ll be upset with me.”

Harry takes a heavy inhale, but doesn’t say anything like I suspected he would. The only response I receive from him is a light compress of my hand. He looks just as afraid as I am about how this conversation will end - how our situation will continue.

Rosalie is my everything- I could never forgive myself if I ever done anything to ruin her life. I don’t know where Harry and I could end up, nor am I aware of how she will perceive my relationship with Harry in the near future (after they meet properly).

“Jen,” the rasp in his voice yanks me out of my head. I lift my gaze off our connected hands, focusing on his softened eyes. “You mean the absolute world to me. I would do whatever it takes to make you happy, keep you safe and loved. I know Rosalie means more to you than anything else.. I’m aware that her needs will come before anything else and that you will take her opinions into consideration.”

Harry lectures this to me, I know all of these things. I’m very in tune with everything. Harry means just as much to me and I’m sure he knows that as well. His point, though, is the honest truth. If my daughter doesn’t approve then it won’t happen.

“But.. I want you to think about it.. I really care about you and I want to be with you. I’m very willing to form a bond with your daughter, too. I desire to fix all of this.” Harry gives me a warm, comforting smile.

I wish he knew how hard this was for me, maybe then things wouldn’t be as difficult to handle and discuss.

“Here you go.” The waitress returns, but to my surprise Harry doesn’t release my hand. She sits the waters down, one in front of each of us. Yet again, her attention goes to Harry. “Are you ready to order?”

“We are, yes.” He nods, his vision turning over to me. “Love, what would you like?”

His actions force the waitress to face me, which doesn’t make her all too happy. “I want the Fettuccine Alfredo, please.”

“And for you, sir?”

“Linguine with Shrimp Scampi.” Harry sounds so fancy, he could sing the alphabet and still seem like a royal descendant. Maybe it’s the accent mixed with his raspy voice?

Yet again, this woman has her eyes fixed on him - a daring smirk slapped on her foundation caked face.

With a nod, she walks away from us - thankfully. Harry suddenly chuckles, shaking his head lightly from side to side. I admire the way his eyes crinkle when he’s amused, that is until I begin to wonder what’s got him tickled.

“What?” I ask, letting a laugh escape.

“Your face.” He laughs. “You were looking at her with pure disgust.”

My face reddens from embarrassment, ”Was I really?”

“Most definitely, love. And she noticed.”

I press a hand to my face, trying to hide from him. Instantly I feel how hot my skin is, my cheeks have to be on fire right now. Harry grips my hand tighter, I almost forgot about him holding onto it. It must be a feeling I’ve already become accustomed to.

“Someone seems jealous.” Harry winks at me, steadily increasing the amount of blush on my face.

“I’m not jealous. I just don’t like the way she was looking at you.”

Harry laughs lowly again, “That’s a sign of jealously, love.”

“Hush.”

“Don’t worry.. I get jealous, too. You get looked at more than you think. People are very fond of you, love.” He tells me, smirking slightly.

“I doubt that.”

“Don’t. I’ve witnessed it on multiple occasions. Men seem to be really interested in your.. back side.” Harry’s voice fades out towards the end, a sign that he’s a little embarrassed to say that out loud to me.

“Are you in that group of men?” The risky question instantly sets me on fire, I look down, hoping that my hair will shield my flaming cheeks.

“Absolutely.”

Notes

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