Real Or Not?

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"Kate, yes it's a Friday night, but I'm not attending some stupid frat party." I say, rolling my eyes.
"Mus, you're such a spoilsport. Let loose for once, and just...party!" Kate says over the phone.
"It's Harry's last night with me, and I want to spend it with him." I take off my glasses, balancing the phone between my cheek and shoulder.
"Bring him over, then! The party will become twice as exciting." Excitement is dripping off Kate's tone.
"Oh, yeah and let screaming, hormonal teenage girls rip his clothes off. Yeah, great idea, Kate." She laughs.
"You're impossible to persuade, Mus. I give up." I smile to myself. It's not easy to win from Kate and when I do, I feel highly pleased with myself. "I'm leaving, then. But if you do happen to change your stubborn mind, then come over to Mason's house."
"Okay, but I won't. Bye, take care." I say, and end the call.
"Bumper, I was thinking that we should go out for dinner." Harry says, entering my room. "Sophia and the boys have gone for dinner at her friend's house, so I think that we should venture out, as well."
"I don't know, Harry, why don't we stay home?" I ask, getting off the bed and making my way over to Harry. I wrap my arms around his neck, and kiss him.
"I haven't treated you to dinner since I came. Let's go, please." Harry stares at me pleadingly with those green eyes that come in my dreams at night. Sighing, I nod my head.
"Okay," I concede. "Give me ten minutes to get ready." Harry nods, smiling.
"I think I'll hang around." Harry says, stepping back and leisurely making his way toward the chair that's in the corner.
"Sure," I murmur. Harry looks surprised, as I walk toward my closet.
"Really? You're going to let me stay?" Harry questions, his tone incredulous.
"Of course, Harry. Why would I want you to leave?" I say, suppressing a huge grin from breaking out across my lips.
"Y-Yeah, silly me." Oh, he's so naive. Harry actually thinks that I'll change in front of him. I don't have a lot of evening wear because I'm not a party person, nor do I go out for fine dining every night. Knowing Harry, he will take me out to some fancy restaurant that is as equally good as the diner that's two streets down. I take out the black dress that I wore to my first One Direction concert that wasn't a long time ago. No, he's seen me in this. The other option is the dress that I wore when I attended Gregg's fancy party. Harry's seen me in that as well. Huffing, I push away shirt after shirt, trying to find a suitable one for tonight. Suddenly, my eyes land on an orange top that's sleeveless and classy. I bought it from Forever 21, and it's supposed to be used for casual wear. However, I think I can pull it off as formal wear. I can wear a black pant to compliment it. Yeah, this'll do. I take out both pieces of clothing from the closet and shut the doors.
"So, what're you wearing tonight?" Harry asks, his eyes on his phone's screen.
"It's a surprise," I say. Smiling to myself, I make my way into the ensuite bathroom and shut the door behind me. Poor Harry, he was too excited to see me change.
*********
"So, you're still mad?" I ask Harry, as he parks the car
"Hmm," Harry murmurs.
"Oh, come on! Harry, you didn't actually think that I'd change in front of you." He unlocks the doors and gets out. I get out as well.
"Bumper, I was so excited to see you change and then you step out of the bathroom fully dressed in those clothes that make you look so...fucking sexy." Harry says, coming around the car and taking his hand in mine. "I'm not talking to you, but for tonight I'm on a break from not talking to you, so I will."
"Oh, thank God, I thought that I'd have to beg and fulfill your every wish to get you to speak to me." I tease, laughing.
"That can be arranged." Harry leans in for a kiss, but I move my head back, just as his lips brush mine.
"First you say you're mad at me, and then you want to kiss me. No, babe, that's not how it works." I cluck my tongue and shake my head.
"Say that again."
"What?" I ask, confused.
"Call me babe, again. Please," Harry says. Laughing, I nod my head.
"Okay. Babe, can we please move faster because I'm bloody hungry." Harry chuckles.
"Sure, Bump. Let's go," Harry says. "So, your birthday's coming up."
"Yeah and as always, I'll be inviting Gregg and Kate over to my house, bake a cake and order some fast food." Harry furrows his brow.
"Why don't they do something for you? I mean, it's your birthday. A special day when an angel was born." Harry winks at me.
"More like a devil. And I don't trust anyone to do anything for my birthday. Once, when I was sixteen, such a special day; I didn't plan anything for my birthday, nor did I go around telling people that it was coming up. When the day came, no one, I mean no one, not even mama, remembered it. After that I've never trusted anyone to plan anything or do anything for my birthday. I do everything myself," I shrug my shoulders.
"That's...horrible." Harry frowns, and he's still deep in thought, frowning, when we enter the restaurant. I nudge him lightly with my elbow. He turns his head to look at me questioningly.
"Good evening, sir. Madam." A waiter says, nodding his head as a courtesy to both of us.
"Good evening," I greet him back.
"Reservation by the name of Styles." Harry says, pursing his lips. He scowls at the waiter. What's his problem? The waiter looks at me, and I smile at him sheepishly.
"Right this way, Sir." The waiter turns around and we follow him.
"Harry, what happened?" I ask.
"Did you see the way he was looking at you." Harry says, loudly. Loud enough for the waiter to hear. I slap his arm lightly.
"Shut up!" I whisper-hiss. "He wasn't looking at me in any odd or disrespectful manner."
"Yeah, he was. I saw the way his eyes trailed down, and landed where they shouldn't have."
"No, they didn't," I insist.
"Oh, yes they did, and I'll be asking his name at the end of our dinner to lodge a complain against him."
"Harry, you will do no such thing and if you do, I will not speak to you."
"Here's your table." The waiter stops in front of a rectangular table, near the end of the restaurant. I like this table. It's in the corner, away from the rest of the people. Harry and I can talk openly about anything, without having to worry that anyone will hear us. He pulls my chair out for me, and once I'm seated, Harry pushes the chair in slightly. The guy might not physically show a lot of muscles, but he sure is strong. Once we're both seated, the waiter hands us our menus, a wine list, and heads back the way we came. My eyes glance around the restaurant once, and it doesn't take me long to figure out that people - whether they be adults, children or teenagers - are staring at us. Some are even trying to subtly take our photos with their phones.
"I suppose we won't be ordering anything from the wine list." Harry says, his eyes glued to the menu.
"You can order, but you know why I can't have wine." I say, conflicted between all the delicious looking food on the menu.
"I'm good. We'll order some other drink," Harry shrugs his shoulders.
"Harry, you don't have to do everything to please me. Just because we're dating and you think that you're in love with me, doesn't mean your whole world rotates around me." Harry looks up at me, and scoffs.
"Think that I'm in love with you. W-What do you mean by that, Bump?" Harry says, placing down the menu. The waiter comes over and Harry flicks his wrist, dismissing him.
"I don't think - I don't believe - that anyone can fall in love so fast." If we're talking, I might as well lay out all the cards on the table. "You're just infatuated by me, not in love."
"Infatuated. Infatuated." Harry seems to be thinking the word over, trying to understand it. "I was infatuated by my exes. That's why I didn't tell them that I was in love with them. But I told you because I am, whether you want to accept that or not, it's the truth." Harry reaches out across the table and takes my hands in his. "I know that you have insecurities, Bump, and I know we'll work around them. But please don't say that I'm lying to you. I've never lied to you and I never will." I sigh, and try to take my hands out of Harry's. However, he tightens his grip.
"I find it hard to believe, Harry, that's all I'm saying. Maybe you do and maybe you don't, but I have no way to know for sure. I mean, it's not like I can open your brain and view it." I shrug my shoulders and let out a short bark of laughter.
"No, no, you can't. But we can do a lie detector test, right?" Harry's face lights up with the idea.
"What? No," I shake my head. "Haz, you don't have to go to such great lengths to prove me wrong, or to satisfy me."
"I don't have to do anything in this relationship, but I want to." Harry says, matter-of-factly. "I want to assure you that I really have feelings for you that run deep. Deeper than my own blood."
"Isn't that a bit too melodramatic?" I look down at my legs.
"Yes, but I've always been accused of being a romantic." Harry says, his face alight with his signature mischievous smile. A smile that makes me feel calm and loose. All the tension releases from my body. And just like that, we're back to being a happy couple that's out for dinner. Not the couple that's arguing about feelings. "Bumper, I want to use tonight to get to know you better. I already know you quite a bit, but there are many question marks in my brain."
"Go ahead, Styles, I'm all yours for tonight." I say, taking my hands out of his and picking up the menu. "But first, we must order, otherwise I'll die of starvation." Chuckling, Harry nods his head.

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