No Matter What // Harry Styles AU -- Dunkirk inspired

Chapter Twenty One

"Hmm," I playfully exaggerate.

"Well?" Harry leans across and rests his long arms on the tiny round table. I find myself entirely too distracted by his rolled up sleeves.

I toss my head slightly to refocus on the elderly woman. Sitting by herself on a park bench, the silver haired woman grips a lavender parcel tightly. Her body is still, but her gaze seems to continually shift as she scans the faces of people walking by.

"Easy," I boast sitting back smugly in my chair.

"Is it now?" His grin grows, and the gleam in his eyes seems to dance with mischief.

"Mhmm," I nod. "She's a spy."

An unrestrained laugh bursts from Harry's chest that takes me so off guard I nearly choke on my ice cream, which in turn causes Harry to only laugh harder.

"How is she a spy? She looks like your average nan."

"Aha!" I excitedly yell, pointing my spoon at him. "That's exactly what a spy would want you to think!" Harry throws his head back again in laughter.

"You're absolutely mad."

"Just look at her!"

Just as Harry and I turn to stare at the woman, she suddenly makes eye contact with both of us. Her somewhat pleasant demeanor immediately shifts into one of the nastiest scowls I've ever seen. We both instinctively whip around, having never intended to be rude. Harry's eyes are wide and his lips are pursed perfectly together and for a moment I get a glimpse at what he must have looked like as a young boy. It's just too adorable- I fall into a fit of laughter while Harry tries to recover from his shock.

"Quit laughing at me," Harry whispers as he hunkers down slightly over the table, propping up a menu as a line of cover. I lean forward, hiding with him, uncontrollable giggles still bubbling over my lips.

"Now, you've gone and done it," he chides playfully.

"Me! What did I do?" Still hunkered down, I prop elbows up on the table, resting my chin on my hands.

"You've gone and given her secret up." Harry points at me and pretends to scold me. "She could have her men on us in minutes."

"Well it's not my fault she's a not a very good spy." 

Harry cackles at my straight faced, yet weak defense. I have to bite back the cheesy grin that threatens to give away my defeat. Suddenly, a sharp rapping comes at the window. Harry's grin falls and we slowly tear our eyes from one another to peer over the edge of the menu. Our eyes peak over just enough to see the old woman herself immediately in front of us.

The woman stares right at us, gaze icy and cold. She points silently at me first and then vigorously at Harry with her bony white finger. 

"That's not very ladylike and that's not very gentlemanly!" 

With a resentful nod, she huffs away, the flower pinned in her purple hat bobbing like the angriest little tugboat.

Now, normally this kind of admonition would have me spinning on the worst kind of guilt train, but the thickness of the glass muffles her voice and distorts her image in such an absurd way that she resembles more of an angry fish rather than a frightening authority figure. Harry and I turn to look at each other and after a quick pause, bust out laughing.

"What in the Sam Hill just happened?" I exclaim.

Harry leans back in his chair laughing and I can't help but join him even though the thinning crowd of the shop is staring at us.

"We're going to get ourselves thrown out," I lean forward on my elbows.

"We can't help it," Harry quips. "We're just not ladylike or gentlemanly." Harry's pouts innocently, but the gleam in his eyes is as mischievous as the devil.

I point my finger at him, just like the old woman, and Harry falls a part again while I'm reduced to bucket of giggles.

"Oh heavens, Harry! I think we're going to get in trouble." I can see the boss making his way over, the scowl set deep on his already heavily wrinkled face.

"Not if they can't catch us," Harry says with a smile as bright as the moon. He stands to his feet and holds out his wide palm. Without a second thought, I take hold of it and Harry spins me out of the booth in a whirlwind of coat grabbing and uncontrollable laughter. We're on our feet like lightening, dashing out of the store and down the street like a pair of criminals in cahoots.

When we make it out down the street, Harry spins me into his arms just like he did on the dance floor. My cumbersome coat falls out of my arms as I stumble lightly towards him. His strong arms catch me from tripping, settling behind my back. The cold air gently sweeps over my arms, but it feels like nothing more than a cool whisper as Harry holds me close and warm. My heart races as my own hands travel gently up and settle around his neck. We stand there, locked like two puzzle pieces underneath the soft glow of the November moonlight.

"Hey, angel," Harry smiles down at me, his hair falling slightly out of place and into his eyes.

"Hello," My voice is barely above a whisper. I gently reach up and tuck a fallen lock of chocolatey brown hair back into place.

"You know I feel like I'm having de ja vu."

"Is that so?" I smile up at him.

"Yes'm," Harry begins to sway gently, pulling me into a slow dance.

"What are you doing?" I laugh as he suddenly twirls me around, the pleats of my skirt dusting my knees as they twist around my legs.

"Dancing." Harry flashes his dangerously dimpled smile.

"Ah, so this is the way you charm all the ladies?"

"Hush. Come here." 

Harry begins to hum a familiar tune. His voice is warm and husky, a soothing and comforting sound that I never want to end.

"Heaven, I'm in heaven," he croons playfully. I toss my head back lightly, laughing with delight at Harry's Fred Astaire impression. Harry clasps my hand tightly, holding me snug against him with the other.

"And my heart beats so that I can hardly speak.."His voice seems to hover like a cloud while his boyish shoulders bounce ever so slightly to the invisible beat. Harry keeps my hand held tight, but spins me outward, singing, "And I seem to find the happiness I seek.."

When he tugs me back gently,  I sing back to him, "When we're out together dancing, cheek to cheek," landing softly in his arms.

Harry's playful smile turns into something even more beautiful as his dimples grow and his eyes become a brilliant green. His gaze is fixed on me in the most tender way. It's a strange sensation- it's as if it's the first time someone's actually seen me- really, truly seen me.

Hazel Chapman. Age 18. Falling harder than a boulder from the sky.