Beautiful Stranger

two.

Scarlett POV

Harry looks at me in concern.

“Are you okay?” He asks quietly, his eyebrows creased in concern.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” I mumble, avoiding his green gaze. He sighs softly, and runs a hand through his curls.

“I’m not a girl, but I know ‘fine’ doesn’t actually mean what people think.” Harry states. Despite the situation, I feel myself smile.

“Thanks, Harry.” I say, and I really mean it. He smiles softly.

“No problem, Scar. Anytime.” I feel something fuzzy inside of me and feel myself melt. Wow, not even my mom has a nickname for me… I think to myself. Harry smiles his dimpled smile and I feel my face flush for the billionth time today; praying that no one can see me making a fool of myself. “Who are you visiting?” Harry queries curiously. He must see the slightly surprised expression on my face because he backtracks quickly, “Unless that’s too personal, of course.” He stutters rapidly, his cheeks growing hot.

“Ha!” I yell, jabbing a triumphant finger at his chest. “I made you blush this time!” Harry’s cheeks grow redder and he hides his face in the train seat; which I find completely adorable. Wait… why am I thinking like this? I giggle and smile at Harry. “Turns out I have a sister whom I’ve never heard of that lives in New York, so I’m going to see her. Mum said I needed to do something social.” I tell him, using quotation makes on the word ‘social’ and rolling my eyes. He nods in understanding.

“Ah, cool.”

An hour later I can proudly call Harry the first real friend I’ve ever had. On the table in front of us is a piece of paper with the game ‘x and o’s’ and ‘hangman’ scribbled all over it. Beside that was a half-full bag of ketchup chips and an unopened bottle of 7-Up. Harry’s feet are kicked across the table.

“So,” He says, picking his cuticles on his nails.

“So,” I echo what he’s said in a deep British accent and he starts to laugh. “Let’s play Fact!” I exclaim, clapping my hands like a little girl. Harry grins lazily and pushes a curl from his eye.

“What’s that?” My mouth gapes open and then I firmly close it.

“Well, there’s only one rule, and the rule is you have to tell the truth. The questions can be as confidential or as vague as you want, as long as you answer the truth.” Harry’s green gaze bores into mine.

“And if you don’t?” I chuckle, shaking my head. “You pass. Then, you ask the most secretive question you can think of to the other person. If they answer, you lose. If they pass, no one wins and it’s game over.” Harry pouts, crossing his arms across his chest. I notice the drying coffee stain on his shirt and inwardly cringe, my cheeks hot.

“You’re on,” Harry leans in. “Alright, I’ll go first.” He pauses, his eyes crinkled and his mouth in a firm straight line, “Who’s your celebrity crush?” I think about it for a few moments.

“I’ve got to say, probably…” I break off. “Um, Carter Hassock?” Harry smirks,

“What about me?” I shrug and give a small, mischievous smile,

“Your curls are nice,” He self-consciously lifts a hand to his head,

“Curls get the girls, Scarlett.” Harry says in mock seriousness, and then shakes his head, his mop of curls flying in all directions.

“Alright mine is, how many girls have you slept with?” He blushes immediately.

“…Is that really necessary?” Harry mumbles, shaking his hair. “I don’t want you to get a bad impression of me.” I look at him in slight disbelief.