Chapter Eight

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*not edited. Few mistakes. *

"I'm ready, are you?"
Mia

Turns out the person that looked familiar was Claire. She was just heading out with her husband while we where checking in.

Her look of suprise when she saw me well dressed and arm attached to Harry was priceless.

°

"Harry?" I ask, my voice quakes and I turn to look at him. "Hmm?" He reponds tapping away at the music set low in the car. "Can we go somewhere fun?" My idea was to go to a fair. Let him actually have fun, or so I thought.

"Did you not have fun at dinner? If you did not we could do other things. Other than dinner." He looks at me concerned, the limo stopping at a red light. "Let's go to the city. Times square. Let's go into photobooths and take silly pictures. Let's have fun." I let a long sigh escape my mouth, as his eyes nit together in confusion and concerned. "I can try. I don't assure you anything, but for you I'll try Mia." We then take off to times square. "Are you cold?" His strong arms wrap around my waist. "Uhm, a little." I smile shyly as his arms put on his suit jacket on me. The size difference making him chuckle. "Your tiny." He chuckles and my mouth makes an O form. "Your just really big." His hand still around my waist, firmly.

"Theres a photobooth." I point, He sighs and walks towards the medium box. He pays and then tries to fit his enormously handsome body into the small space. He lets me go in first but as we both didn't fit, he sat me on his lap.

"What theme?" I ask and he looks through the choices. "The 80's theme is calling out to me. You?" I agree and then click on it. Starting the countdown from 10 seconds.

"Funny face!" I say and then the matchine snaps a picture. "Miley Cyrus!" He then says and I take out my tongue. We burst into a fit of giggles. His laugh making butterflies in my full stomach. We try to contain our giggles, and the matchine snaps one of us laughing. Harry has the little wrinkles around his eyes, and full on dimples, making me know it was a really great time.

"Kiss me." I say and he looks at me taken aback, but he takes the advantage to grab my face and bite my lower lip. Again kissing with much force, the machine takes a snap. I catch my nonsteady breath, or attempt to. I step out of the photobooth and he squeezes my ass making me playfully smack his arm. He gets out, fixing his suit jacket making me wonder what I'd do to all his beautiful body. "Take a picture it'll last longer." He chuckles and I blush. "Is Mr. Styles teasing?" I giggle and he shakes his head smiling.

"Maybe." He chuckles again and I grab his arm. The two copies of the pictures where in his hand. "Here." He hands me a copy and I thank him. I set it in my purse and he takes out his wallet, sets it in. To my surprise he interwhines our hands and starts to walk around the busy city. Walking passed his building he takes a look at the name. "I need to redo the letters, they're grey." I giggle a bit. "What?" His now confused gaze on me. "It is grey. The letters have always been grey." I say and he nods his head no. "It's a different grey. This grey is more dirty." He says before walking a different direction.

"Like you." I smirk, my sassy mouth.

He chuckles. "Stay here. I'll get us some whine." I step into the liquor store and wait for Harry to get the whine. "Red or white? The poor flushed man asks and Harry response "Red, two glasses." He pays the man and waits for him to find the certain ritch whine.

"Mia?" I turn and Louis stands there looking a bit casual. His pink nose affected by the weather. "Hey!" I say back then Harry turns and walks over to us. "You are?" He says and Louis coughs. "Harry, Louis, he is working for you." I say and smile as Louis's confused gaze stays on me. "Don't look at her like that." He snaps. Louis lifts his arms in defeat. "Do it again and you're fired." He snaps again and Louis makes a step backwards. "Harry, stop." I smile at Louis and he glares at him. "I'ma go order a beer, uh I'll see you around Mia." He says and steps into the liquor store. "What the hell, Harry!" I slightly scream.

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