Paris In The Rain [h.s]

22

"I promise you they're amazing and they'll love you," Harry says, reaching out across the table to grab my hand, rubbing soothing circles with his thumb, "I'm still excited that you even agreed to go."

"I just get so nervous when it comes to meeting the family," I shrug my shoulders, reaching over with my free hand to grab a fry off of his plate.

"Hey now. You have your own fries," he lightly smacks my hand as I reach back over to grab more.

I giggle loudly as I take more of his fries, listening to his small comments of protest, "Yours taste better."

"I guess I'll just take this then," he grabs my half-eaten sandwich and shoves a bite into his mouth, my mouth falling open as I let out a gasp, "Mm, your sandwich is better than mine. I think I'll just keep it," he wiggles his eyebrows at me as he takes another bite.

"Give it back!" I smile as I reach out quickly to grab it from him, failing miserably as he yanks his hand away.

"Then give me my fries back," he grins at me with his shit-eating grin, dangling my sandwich in front of me.

I pout slightly as I stare at him with big eyes, "but yours taste so much better than mine. And they're already touching my plate."

He laughs softly as he lays my sandwich back down on my plate, shaking his head at me, "I can't resist those eyes," he sighs as I smile triumphantly.

"Nobody can, Styles," I grin at him while taking another bite of a fry, "You've got something on your face by the way."

"What? Here?" He takes my hand that he was holding and wipes it against his mouth, "Or here?" My hand catches the food that had been on his face as I squeal softly, trying to pull my hand away.

"Harry!" I laugh as he rubs my hand all over his mouth. I pick up a napkin and throw it at him, completely missing him and hitting the girl sitting behind him in the shoulder, "Oh, shit!" I mutter underneath my breath as Harry widens his eyes while he laughs.

The girl turns around as Harry holds in his laughter, making it harder for me to look sincere, "Did you just throw this napkin at me?" She asks, obviously American by the hint of her Northern accent.

"Yes and I'm so sorry. I was trying to hit him," I point at Harry, kicking him slightly underneath the table to get him to stop laughing. The giggles that were escaping his lips weren't helping my case as she watched me laugh, obviously not entertained.

"Maybe you should work on your aim," she says, "and maybe try not to laugh when you apologize to someone."

Harry turns around in his seat, planting his heartbreaker smile onto his lips, "I'm so sorry about that, love," he tells her while her cheeks flush a deep crimson red as she looks at him, becoming flustered by his accent and attractive features, "My girlfriend here was just throwing the napkin at me after I told her how many times I planned on fucking her in my car right over there after we get done eating," he points to his car through the window in the cafe that was parked just across the street.

My eyes widen at his words as the girl's face becomes an even darker red, instantly turning around in her seat and clearing her throat awkwardly, "Oh my god, Harry!" I whisper to him as I cover my mouth to muffle my hysterical laughter.

"How was that?" He smiles at me, arrogantly proud of himself as he stared at me in satisfaction. He takes his own napkin and wipes my hand off while I bury my face in my free hand, trying to calm myself down and stop my uncontrollable laughter.

"You're going to be the death of me, Harry Styles, the artist," I shake my head at him, wiping away the tears that had formed in the corner of my eyes.