About (Harry Styles)

10.

The pace of my heart drums through my ears with the passing time as Harry Styles starts to pull away. I can see the pure shock in his deep, green colored eyes as he realizes what just happened.

He detaches his arm from around my shoulder in a quick, swift motion, stepping a few feet back.

"What just happened?" I ask him. He runs his fingers through his curls again as he licks his lips before chuckling to himself. "Laughing? You're laughing? This is funny to you?"

His eyes shoot up from the ground to me, our eyes making immediate contact.

"No, I mean, maybe a little bit." I'm unamused with his answer and he senses it through my bored gaze. "Sorry, I meant to pull you in closer and when you turned your head - it just sorta happened.  You were supposed to look at the camera."

Scoffing, I place my hand on my forehead, trying to figure the situation out:

This doesn't change anything, does it?

It's just a kiss on the cheek.

My head decides to spontaneously replay the scene and I find myself disappointed that it had to happen this way. In this place. At this point in time of our non existent relationship.

This isn't how it's supposed to happen.

I mean, have I ever dreamt of kissing a celebrity like Harry Styles?

A few times but it was never supposed to come true. It was meant to stay a dream of the little fangirl inside of me.

Some dreams should remain as dreams and this was one of them because shit is gonna be thrown all over the wall once word gets out that Harry Styles recklessly fooled around with some unknown girl in Kaukana, Wisconsin.

It's just an innocent kiss on the cheek. Stop freaking out Elaine...

Stop it.

"What did you say before?"

"What did I say?" He asks, confused.

"You said something about .. sneaking photos," I remind him.

"Oh, that. You don't remember?"

"Remember what?"

"Back in England. Where we met, in the Eye of London," he pauses, hoping I can recollect what he's telling me but all I give him is a perplexed expression. "I saw the photos you took --"

Oh shit.  I forgot.

"Some of them were of me," he says with a mischievous smile.

How could I forget about that?

"Oh, well, umm, I," I clear my throat, finding an excuse for taking photos of him but coming up blank. I meant to delete them right after and I probably forgot to.  "How did you —?"

"You took off with the wrong packet," he continues, saving me an explanation as I flush in embarrassment. "The morning after, I opened what I assumed was my envelope, and I saw ones of places I've never been to before and knew right away that they didn't belong to me. And I've got to say, you're not bad at taking photos. They looked quite good."

"Thanks," I say sarcastically, trying to avoid showing any sign of appreciation at his compliment. "But when did you look at them? Did you look at all of them?"

"I did. I'm sorry. I couldn't help it. I was curious. I tried to return them to you, but when I went to your dorm, you were already gone. That's why I needed to contact you so I went to ask Niall since he had your number."

So that's why he needed my number.

"I haven't looked through my, I mean, your photos yet." It's true. I haven't even gotten round to them yet. "How did you want me to return them?"