Stalker Styles (Harry Styles Fanfic)

Chapter 5

"You mean when you ran into me?"

"We both know that you ran into me on purpose." He says smirking.

"Yeah because I totally knew who you were. With your curly afro and all." I say sarcastically, a smile finding it's way onto my face.

He puts his hand on his chest, looking hurt. "You can insult me, but don't insult the hair." He sticks his hand out again. "Now are you coming or not?"I debate whether I want to risk not getting enough sleep and have to be miserable tomorrow. Oh well, hakuna matata.

I grab his hand and he pulls me up, we both hop off the bed and I slip my flip flops on. Harry opens the door really slowly trying not to make too much noise. After he checks if the coast is clear, he motions for me to follow him. We tiptoe through the hotel room and safely make it to the door. Harry grabs a room key from the table by the door and we head out.

After we ride the elevator to the lobby, we walk past the front desk. A woman in about her mid-forties looks at us weirdly, Harry smiles and gives her a small wave. If I were her, I would think we are crazy. I mean, two teenagers in their pajamas walking out of a hotel at this hour? Who does that?

After we make it out onto the sidewalk, in the warm California air, we start walking to the nearest McDonalds."So Presley, tell me a little about you." Harry says, trying to make conversation.

"I'm weird, antisocial, addicted to Dr. Pepper, my best friend is Alana, I have a little brother, I live with my aunt," I take a small glance at him, he is smirking. "And I make YouTube videos." I wait for him to burst out laughing, seeing as he's so famous and I only make videos on YouTube.

"That sounds actually really cool." He says, turning slightly to face me. "Anti-social, huh?"

I roll my eyes. "How about you, what do you like to do?"

"Obviously, I like to sing." He says, that stupid smitk on his face.

"Yeah I know that far."

He laughs and keeps going. "I kind of like to golf. Just a little bit." He holds up his thimb and pointer finger, mere inches apart.

"My Dad took me golfing once, it was extremely boring, and I couldn't hit the ball half the time." I say.

"Oh come on, I'm sure if you tried again you could hit the ball. How old were you when he took you?"

"It was last year." I say. looking at him again. He bursts out laughing at this, and I just roll my eyes.

"It's not that funny!" I say, hitting him in the chest.