Anna: Harry Styles

Fuck it I love you

Harry was right, there was a multitude of tattoo parlours open, Harry and I scouring through reviews on the internet, eventually finding one with a good enough wrap that said they were not busy and that we could just come in straight away.

So that's how we ended up in his Range Rover, my phone on aux cord playing some songs by an Australian band called Hockey Dad, driving to Dire Wolf Tattooing and Fine Art, debating with Harry if I should get the tattoo on the other side of my pelvic bone or somewhere else.

"What about on my wrist?" I suggested as the song, 'Seaweed,' by Hockey Dad began to play, which is one of my favourite songs by them.

"Yeah but it would look cool if you had another tattoo in the same area as your cherry one."

"They aren't even matching! It would look stupid," I laughed.

"Who cares, I'm the only other person who is going to see it."

"Just because none of your tattoos match and are just random doesn't mean I want that."

"Harsh," Harry laughed sarcastically. "Who even is this band anyway?"

"Hockey Dad, they are an Australian band. Christsbel's boyfriend Jack studied in Melbourne for a year so he introduced us to all this new Australian music."

"Bit differing to your usual music taste isn't it?" Harry questioned with a grin and I nodded, Australian indie music not being my first point of call if I were listening to music.

"Anyways, back to the tattoo," I said as Harry continued to drive, the roads pretty quiet at this time of night meaning it did not take us long to reach the heart of Malibu. "I think I'm going to get it on my ankle."

"Ankle?" Harry asked and I nodded, the idea only just coming to me then.

"It's nice and subtle but it's still there you know?" I asked, Harry nodding with a small smile on his face. "Besides, you cannot tell me that it wouldn't look dumb on the other side of my pelvis H," I laughed.

"I guess you do have a point," he sighed dramatically as we turned down a side street, the navigation in the car announcing that we were almost at our destination.

Harry quickly found a park, as it was fairly quiet for a Thursday evening, allowing us to walk freely down the street hand in hand as I giggled in anticipation about the new tattoo that I was about to get.

"You should get one too," I stated as we reached the front of Dire Wolf, the windows covered in old rock music posters and photographs of the tattoos that they have obviously done over the year.

"Oh yeah, what should I get?" Harry asked with a smirk, opening the door for me and ushering me inside.

"A little sun," I said, hinting to the fact that Harry calls me 'golden girl.'

"If I get a sun you have to get something for me too," he laughed and I shook my head and that was the end of that conversation as we walked up to the counter where a man who appeared to be in his early fifties was standing. He was covered in tattoos and had quite the beard on him and to anybody passing him on the street, he would have looked intimidating but the Backstreet Boys t-shirt he wore and the bright smile he gave when he saw the two of us told me otherwise.