The Only Exception | W2S

SIX.

Big time bestie!!!!

@calfreezy replied to your story:

🥳🥳🥳🥳

@georgeclarkeey replied to your story:

Ummmm I've actually known you since 2 mil #iwasherefirst

@haattieeb replied to your story:

Telling everyone I have a celebrity bestie now

You're literally dating george😭😭

"Oi!" A voice yelled, and a quick look up from my phone revealed Harry in his car, the window wound down, grinning at me being so unaware.

"Sorry," I laughed, tucking my phone into my pocket, heading towards the car. "In my defence you got here quicker than thirty minutes," I shrugged, climbing into the car.

"Like I've said before, low expectations means you're always surprised," he says, and I can't argue with it, so I don't, plugging in my seatbelt.

"Can I trust your driving, yes or no?" I ask, before he starts to drive off again.

"I mean I've never crashed my car before in the ten years I've been driving," he says, although not directly answering my question.

"Hmm," is all I reply, as he starts to drive out of my complex's car park.

"I mean, if you think you can do better then we can always take your car," he offers, but I shut him down immediately.

"We'd both get ill, that car is a hazard in the cold. I need to get it sorted but I've just not had the time yet," I say, although it's not entirely true. There have been plenty of times I could've sorted it, but just procrastinated.

"I've got a mate that works on cars, if I asked he could probably come have a look at it," Harry offers, quickly glancing across at me before looking back at the road.

"What, like he can come to see my car as opposed to me driving it to him?" I ask, already sensing the incentives.

"Yeah," he confirmed.

"That would...actually be amazing. I mean, if you're okay to ask, I mean."

He just smiled and nodded. "Course I can, no problem."

We continue driving for a little bit, falling into a brief silence, but the music he has on in the background is enough to not make it awkward. After fifteen minutes though, the silence ends.

"Where are we actually going?" I ask, peering out of the windows, not recognising this part of London.

"Somewhere private. I don't particularly want a group of thirteen year olds disturbing me when I want to have a cigarette in peace," he says firmly.

"Fair enough," I agree, because it's valid. One of the very few downsides to having fans was that there were some of them who just didn't know how to respect personal space, and boundaries.

Finally, after what seems like ages, we pull into a tiny car park, one with less than ten or so spaces, and Harry climbs out of the car. "We're here," he smiles, waiting outside of the car for me to follow.