Entitled . HS

ELEVEN. *

We'd been driving two when Harris just switched the radio off after fighting over what music to play. I don't think that he disliked my choices. I think it was more that he disliked when anyone else was in control, because whenever someone tried to take control of the radio (or his phone) it really pissed him off. He threw a tantrum like you'd expect from a young child who has been told their whole life that once they are the driver they get to choose the music. Now, that same child was behind the wheel and either he really didn't like Harry Styles or he didn't like me changing the music. We might not be able to keep sleeping together if it's the first.

So, instead we rode in near silence with only Arthur's jazz music quietly playing in the background. At one point, his hands started to grip tighter around the steering wheel, clearly wanting to say something, but not knowing what to say or how to say it. "Need a snack?" he asked as we neared a small town.

"I need a bathroom," I said and he signaled to exit. When I got out of the car, he stopped me in front of the car and refused to let me pass. "What?"

"I don't want the rest of the drive to be like this. Can we stop the bullshit fighting?" he asked, somewhat pleading.

"Fine, but For the record you started it," I said because he did.

"I'll take the credit for it if it means you will get back in the car and stop being a frigid bitch."

"Frigid bitch?! That's a little harsh."

"Maybe a little, but it's not inaccurate," he said cautiously, trying not to get his balls ripped off.

"I just hate when you get all 'my way or they highway' with me. Throwing a tantrum over me switching the music to something you didn't like, so you turn it off- like a child." I pointed my finger in his direction. "Rather than letting the other person in the car enjoy a few songs they like."

He seemed to want to pout, but he knew better than to do that shit around me, especially when he was the one in the wrong. "Fine. We'll listen to your choice of music for thirty minutes and I promise not to say a word about it." His compromise was surprising and I had no words. We walked towards the gas station and he held the door open for me, which was also surprising. I used the bathroom and came out to find him buying some coconut water. Who the hell got that at a gas station? Normal people would've chosen a soda or a slushie. Even healthy people would've chosen water, but coconut water?

I gave him a strange look and he ignored it. Our eating habits were nothing alike and I was not going to win any points by bringing up our differences. I kept my mouth shut and grabbed a bottle of water before checking out. Then, when we got to the car I sat down in the passenger seat, happily choosing songs that I thought he might actually enjoy as opposed to the ones on my playlist that would make him want to squirrel away in his room and ignore me all night. He even admitted to knowing one of them and told me that two of my other choices weren't horrible.

The last half hour of the drive was absolutely stunning. The world was dusted with white from a recent snowfall, but not so recent that the roads sucked. Despite leaving by 1:00 pm, we were still pulling into town as dusk hit. The gas street lamps lit the cobblestone Main Street and the scene literally screamed 'write a book about me'. We passed storefront windows that were decorated for fall, but I assumed the entire street would change over the next week in anticipation for the winter holidays. "I didn't know places like this actually existed outside of books and movies."

"Like I said, they always hold these conferences in places like this," Harris commented, unphased by it. Like he had seen dozens of places like this. I, however, had not.

"Look at that cute little restaurant," I said as we passed a bistro-style restaurant. Harris surprised me by turning on the next block and parking behind the restaurant. "What are you doing?"