the writer // harry styles au

chapter 4

Alexis

"Is it a formal thing?" Jess asks.

To be honest, I actually have no clue. After Harry left yesterday he said, "Just look as beautiful as you do today," which is very cryptic, because I was in my pajamas. I was going to dress up, nice heels, a tight dress, but I'm starting to think otherwise.

"Let's keep it classy, casual, but still a bit dressy," I tell Jess.

She moves towards my wardrobe and rips everything from it's coat hangers. Turning around, she puts her hands on her hips, letting out a huff of air.

"What was that for?" I scoff.

"I need to know what I'm working with, Alexis," she defends.

"You've been in my closet a thousand times! You know everything that's in there!"

"This is different, Alexis," she begins, picking up a dress a bought a few years back. "You're going out with a best selling author. You need to look hot, and smart and blow him away!" Her hands are moving in extravagant gestures (with my dress), to give a sort of, well, extravagant feel to her speech. "You're not literally going to blow him away, though. You can leave that for the fifth date."

"Jess, I would happily blow him tonight," I tell her truthfully.

"Yeah, so would I," she giggles.

"God, he's gorgeous," I tell her. "He has, like, three different smiles. There's this smirk he does out of politeness, and then this huge grin he does when he's laughing and the third one, Jess. Oh god, the third one! It's a sort of sly smirk he does once he's said something he knows is cheeky."

All gorgeous smiles aside, he still worries me, and I still don't understand why. He's charming, but pushy, well mannered, but cheeky. He's so mysterious for someone I learnt so much about just yesterday.

"Here." Jess pushes a grey dress my way. It's long, finishing around my knee, but tight and has a sleeves that finish just above my elbow. Jess then hands me combat books, and white frilly socks.

"Dress: classy, Boots: casual and socks: cute," she says, pleased with her choice.

"I like it. And if I need to go dressy, I can just grab my black heels and take off my socks," I suggest.

"You don't need to take off the socks, they'll look cute with the heels," Emily tells me.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," she confirms.

She moves out of my bedroom, presumably to the bathroom, and returns with red lipstick and all other make-up concoctions.

"Put on the dress," Jess instructs me.

"Leave the room," I instruct her.

"I've seen you in your bra and undies before, Alexis," she says.

"Yeah, you have. But, you haven't seen my in my lace, near-transparent, bra and undies," I tell her.

"Please blow him," Jess pleads as she leaves my bedroom.

"Why do you think I'm wearing my nice undies?"

"I love you," she says, he head peaking through the small gap that's slowly decreasing as she closes the door.

I swat my hand in her direction to get her to leave, "Shoo!"

"Okay! Hurry!"

***

After what seemed like an eternity, my make up was finally done and Emily was out the door of my flat. To her enjoyment, she started eating an ice block very seductively, just to tease me. I eventually had to physically push her out the front door.

Harry is supposed to be here in about 30 seconds, but I'm not going to be one of those narcissistic girls who get angry over their dates being 2 minutes later than expected. Knowing myself, I may just turn into that girl.

To occupy myself, I start unpacking the dishwasher. I hate household chores. I have to do them if I want a clean flat, but really, what's the po-

The doorbell. Oh, god. I don't have my purse. Or my phone, or money. Fuck! I run to the intercom, skidding along the floorboards.

"Harry? Hi, come up," I breathe into the intercom.

"Hi, Alex-" I let go of the intercom before he can finish his sentence.

I run towards my bedroom to find my purse, picking it up and checking for everything I need, but my phone isn't in the pocket it usually is. I pat down my bed, trying to feel for my phone. With no luck, it's not there so I look towards my beside table and it's not there either.

Harry's knock on the door startles me. I run towards the door. My chest is heaving, so I take a moment to calm myself, pressing my right hand on the door and then left on the door knob. I turn the handle, revealing Harry in a similar outfit to yesterday, but with a white button up and grey sweater under the black winter coat.

"Is this attire appropriate for the evening, Mr. Styles?" I question him. Bending down to give a humorous curtesy.

"It's perfect for the evening, Ms. Russell," he says, taking my hand and kissing it softly.

"I've got to find my phone. Please, come in," I tell him.

His hand is still holding into mine, so I pull him lightly into the flat. He stumbles behind me, steadying himself and then letting go of my hand. He walks to the couch and flops onto his ass.

I move into the kitchen, searching for my phone. Opening my junk draw, I shuffle through all the stuff. There's still no sign of my phone. I shove the draw back, a little to forcefully, causing quite a large bang.

"Alexis?" Harry asks.

"Yeah," I yell back. I walk towards the bench, looking out at Harry on the couch.

"This your phone?" He asks, holding up the silver object.

"Yes! Thank you!" I say, skipping towards him. He stands up handing the phone to me.

"We need to go, I got reservations at a restaurant." Harry takes my hand, pulling me lightly behind him.

His hands are soft, with rough finger pads, probably from all the writing he does. His thumb brushes against the back of my hand. I know people talk about the feeling of every nerve in their body igniting, like every touch from this other person is what keeps them alive. I want to feel that, and I might soon, but right now all I feel while holding Harry's hand in mine is the slight feeling of comfort. But, in all fairness, I'm not in love with him, we just met. Do I think I could fall in love with him? Maybe. Only if I can get over this unruly feeling in my stomach.

"Alexis?" Harry says, opening his car door, "I feel like I have to ask you if you're entirely with it quite a bit," He laughs.

"I'm with it," I reply. "At least I think I am."

Harry's hand never leaves mine. From the elevator, to his car; he is always holding it. He takes it again once he's seating in the car and driving. He must feel that spark; the spark I didn't feel.

"So where are we going?" I ask. He briefly looks towards me, smiling.

"This restaurant uptown. I had my first book meeting there about 3 years ago and always thought it'd be a good place for a date," he replies.

"Haven't had the chance to take anyone on a date there? In 3 years?" I ask.

Harry looks stiff, pulling his bottom lip into his mouth. Harry replies, "Haven't had a date." He firmly says.

"Oh.." How do you reply to that? He hasn't had a date in 3 years. That's 3 years of no sex. God, this boy must know a lot about self love.

"I've just been busy, you know?" Harry tells me, "Book tours, signings. It's all very time consuming. Luckily, the book signing recently stopped that dry spot." He smiles at me.

"I understand," I tell him. He nods in response.

We sit in silence in about 5 minutes before Harry's car halts to a stop.

"We're here."

(A/N: Hi guys (or the one person that's reading this), thank you for reading! Comment and tell me what you think? Don't forget to vote!)