Im Not Like The Rest, Harry Styles

Date-58

Skylar’s POV

“Harry, where are we going?” I asked for the hundredth time. We were walking the opposite direction of the hotel and curiosity took over me.

Harry’s hand was tightly on mine as we walked down sidewalk. There were three paparazzi behind us but as time went on, we both learned to ignore them while we were spending time together, especially when our time with each other was limited.

“I’m not sure yet,” He said.

“So we’re going nowhere specific?”

He shook his head and laughed. “No, no. I saw this place that I’m sure you’d love. I’m just not sure where it is. Trust me, when I find it, we’ll have a blast.”

“Don’t you mean, if, you find it. You don’t even know where it is!” I giggled as Harry’s eyes rolled.

“I will find it, Love, and when I do, you shall never question me again.”

I laughed some more at his statement. “We’ll see about that.”

His hand let go of mine and instead placed his arm around my waist. He pulled my body closer against his as we walked in a slightly faster pace.

We continued walking down the walk way and I began to think that we were lost. With every step, we took, Harry looked hesitant. We could be walking the complete wrong way and neither of us would know how to get back our hotel.

“Okay, Haz, we’ve been walking for a good half an hour. Can’t we just go get some pizza or something?”

He shook his head.

“It’s here somewhere! I know it. This place will be much better than pizza, I swear.”

“It better be.” I mumbled. “I’m starving.”

I thought that we were actually getting to our destination because we walked onto a road where there were many restaurants and small bakeries. The aroma was mouth watering and it only made my stomach grumble.  I almost detached myself from Harry and ordered something from the Middle Eastern Cuisine. That was by far the most delicious smelling food- and it didn’t look too bad either.

At the window display there were 2 racks of chicken shawerma and 2 racks if beef shawerma.  There was a long line up and that made me realize how good the food might be.

I remember a few years ago there was this new student in my school, her name was Zeina and she was half Palestinian and half Egyptian. Because she was Arab, she often brought foods her parents would make to school for lunch. One day she convinced me and few others to come over for dinner. We did and it was probably the best decision of my life. We had things like tabbouleh, hummus, falafel, and of course, shawerma. It was the best thing I’ve ever consumed.

The smell of the food brought back some good memories from the past. I haven’t had Middle Eastern food in such a long time.

I asked Harry if we could take a quick break from walking and stop and grab a shawerma sandwich, but he denied my offer.  

“You’ll get full, and I want you to try this place!”

I grunted. “But Harry, we’ve been walking for so long and I’m starving and my feet hurt.”

I crossed my arms over my chest and stood still on the ground, refusing to allow Harry to move me from my stop.

“I think we’re close.” His voice was uncertain.

“You said that like, an hour ago!” I said loudly. “This food smells amazing and my stomach wants it!”

“How about we make a deal?” He offered. “I really think we’re close, this area seems a little more familiar, I think it’s nearby. So, let’s walk for another 15 minutes and if we see nothing than we can walk back here and I’ll buy you everything they offer on their menu.”