the writer // harry styles au

chapter 5

Harry

The restaurant is musky, and smells of vanilla and cinnamon. It's almost Arabian in design, with large curtains and orange, pink and red pillows on the seats. The booths have a different coloured cushions for each; pink, red or orange. I walk to the bookings and tell the man my name, holding 20 pounds in my hand to slip to him. He gladly leads Alexis and I to a table in the far back, secluded from the rest of the restaurant. There is a Persian carpet situated on the floor and sheer curtains hanging to secluded the area. The table is an auburn colour and has two chairs opposite each other of the same colour.

The waiter pulls the chair open for Alexis, but I deny the gesture when he offers it to me. Alexis look uncomfortable and stiff. I look into her green eyes, smiling, hoping to break the tension. It does. Her smile breaks out and she lets out a giggle.

"It's gorgeous here," she tells me.

"All the best, for the best," I compliment her. She let's out a snort, covering her mouth after. "What?" I ask.

"Me? The best? Far from it, I'm afraid," she explains.

"I wouldn't say that," I defend her, from herself ironically.

"I would. And I know me pretty well." She points towards her face, in a drunken-like manor. I laugh, assuming she was hinting at humour.

Alice wouldn't have replied to my comment like that. She would have let the heat rush to her cheeks, and looked down at her lap. She would then have waved it off, not refusing the compliment like Alexis is. I don't know whether I like that. I like the way Alice would have acted embarrassed and shy, not the way Alexis acted self-conscious and defensive.

"So," Alexis starts, "I haven't had good food in ages. What would you recommend?"

I stare at the menu for a moment, collecting my thoughts, then pushing them away. "The Red Beef Curry's nice," I suggest.

"I'll go with that," she complies.

"Not even going to look at the menu?" I ask.

"I trust your recommendation," she says.

I can't take it. She's a defensive push over, who is nothing like Alice! She's not neurotic, like Alice, or shy, like Alice. She's nothing like Alice!

I stand from my seat, walking towards the wall with my hands pulling at my unruly hair. I let out a breath, putting my fists against the walls. Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out, I repeat in my head. I feel a hand touch my back lightly. It drags down, dropping once it gets to the bottom of my spine. It tickles, but comforts me. The action is repeated and I hear Alexis speak:

"What happened, Harry?"

"You're," I have to take breath, "You're nothing like her," I say.

"Nothing like who?" She questions.

"Alice," I say. "You're nothing like Alice."

"Who's Alice? Your ex?" She takes her hand from my back. I'm still facing the wall, breathing as heavily as before. I turn around to see her hands clawing at the material by her hips. She looks confused.

What am I saying? Of course she's confused!

"Alexis," I start, but she cuts me off.

"So you're only taking me out because you thought I was something like this Alice chick?"

"Don't wind yourself up over this, Alexis," I say. I move towards her but she jerks away. Tears threaten to spill from her eyes.

"Don't wind myself up over this? Harry, you got out of your chair and nearly had a mental breakdown! Oh, and let's not forget, you want me to be just like 'Alice'"