Eleanora [Harry Styles AU]

[12] Dance With Me

A/N: I finally updated!!!!!!!! The writing in this is bad though. idk. I'm not happy with it. 

I finally founf someone who looks like how I imagine Eleanora! Amanda Norgaard, the Danish model. Picture of her on the side. 

______________________

❝I'll walk you home safe, from the dark, I'll give you my jacket, I'll give you my heart❞

            If there was one thing I learned about Eleanora in the four or so days I’d known her, it’s that she never passed up an opportunity. She’d see something we could potentially get involved in, whether it be in the form of a street performer asking for volunteers or a market stall advertising all their stock as half price, and then she’d look to me with a little twinkle in her eye which spoke for itself. She often got her way, and I’d find myself regretting my decision to give in less than a minute later.

            But now, as the sky began to darken to twilight grey, I started to dismiss these little pleas and short-lived arguments with a simple ‘it’s getting late’.

            We were still walking through the streets of London, but now we didn’t have any final destination in mind. So we were strolling, basically. The people we passed gradually merged from men in business suits to posies of chirping girls in cocktail dresses, further enhancing just how late it was.

            “Do you think we should head back?” I asked, spinning my head around to the direction which I thought was ‘back’. But then I asked myself ‘wait, where exactly is back?’, and realised that we didn’t have a place to retreat to once we’d called it a day.

            “I don’t know. Probably.” she shrugged, continuing to pad along the sidewalk.

            “Eleanora…” I began, chewing on my lip. My voice came out high and strained as a result of me thinking about our current situation. We were in London. London. And night time was fast approaching. If we weren’t careful, we could easily have accidently wondered off into a dodgy southern neighbourhood, like Clapham or Brixton, and ended up in all sorts of trouble. My stomach lurched at the thought.

            “Yeah?” she said, spinning around to face me while moving hair out of her eyes.

            “W— where is exactly is…back?” I stuttered, nibbling on my lip even more, to the point where I felt a slight pain.

            She briefly smiled before reaching her hand out to my shoulder, clasping it gently. “Aww, Hazzie. Look at you, all scared and unsure.” she cooed teasingly. I hated the nickname so damn much, but didn’t say anything.

            I pulled her hand away, as much as I liked the feel of it resting there “Well I have a right reason to, yeah? We’re in a big city, and— and it’s d— dark and ‘m cold and we’ve nowhere to stay, and—“

            “Relax.” she told me, her hand returning to my quivering shoulder. Her expression was no longer teasing, but comforting. She gave me a warm smile and squeezed my shoulder in assurance. “I stayed at my sister’s flat last night, remember? She’s still in Croatia and I have the spare key, so,”

            “’kay,” I said, heaving a deep breath. I looked down to the worn pavement, the cracks and gutters along the road, causing my curly fringe to flop down over my face.

            “Hey,” she said, her voice suddenly softer than I’d ever heard before. Her other hand moved up to push my hair away from my eyes. I gazed down at her questionably as her fingers traced the crease in my brow “’s alright, yeah?” she mumbled, her fingers now tangling themselves in my matted hair. I closed my eyes as she began to roam her fingers around, affectionately scratching my scalp. I leaned into the touch, feeling content.