Golden [h.s.]

26. girls' night

It's been a week since that night at Harry's, when he asked me to be his girlfriend. I started back at work two days ago, already feeling the strength on my knee return; the stitches are falling out and just this morning it looks better than it did even the day before.

I haven't spent a night at my apartment these past few days; Harry's insisted on me staying with him at his place until I felt better...and it's hard to object when he bribes me with sex and cuddles. At this rate, I don't think I'll ever want to return home to my apartment.

The Crimson Lounge is packed tonight, a typical Friday night. As I tend to the group who wants shots of vodka, I let myself delve into my thoughts. The morning after our rooftop date, I woke up to Harry already awake, a huge grin plastered on his sweet face.

"Good morning, girlfriend," he had said, lightly squeezing me in his arms when I fluttered open my eyes. I giggled, snuggling deeper into his chest.

"Mhmm...good morning, boyfriend," I replied. Harry brushed my hair away from my face, his large palm cradling my cheek. His thumb caressed my skin softly, and I nuzzled further into his palm.

"I don't think I'm ever going to get used to that," he said as a soft smile creeped up onto his pink lips. I couldn't help but smile back at him.

"How long were you up?" I asked, tilting my head up to look at him. This was the third time now that I was waking up in his arms, and it was quickly becoming something that I adored; I didn't think I'd ever get used to this.

"Just about an hour...you looked so peaceful sleeping, I didn't want to wake you," Harry replied, his touch soft against my hair. I stretched, and immediately regretted it.

"Ow!" I remarked as I flexed my arms and legs.

Holy fuck.

Worry instantly took over Harry's features, concern imprinted in his gaze.

"What's wrong? Are you hurt?" he asked as he raised his body up in alarm. I stifled a laugh.

"Yeah, because of you!" I exclaimed. Harry's face was blank for a few seconds before it clicked in his brain. A smug smirk formed on his lips.

"Oh...sore, aren't you?" He raised his brows and I swatted at his arm, before pulling him back down to the bed. We were both quiet for a while, basking in one another's company. I could lay in his arms forever if I could.

"You know," Harry started, breaking the silence. "I was thinking..."

"What were you thinking, Mr. Styles?" I teased, leaning up on my elbow to look at him. Excitement flickered in his eyes before he spoke.

"Let's go to France."

I narrowed my eyebrows. "What?" I asked, not sure if I heard correctly.

"France. Let's go to France for your birthday," Harry repeated. "You said you've never been, it's where your mum was born and she had told you so many stories about it..." He trailed off.

A million things ran through my head.

France.

I had heard so many stories about this country from my mother...a place that I had never seen but still held such a special place in my heart. I could feel my heart swelling at Harry's proposition. The fact that he thought about doing something so special for me...

But then logic kicked in.

"Work...I don't know if Luke could fill in for me on such short notice, my birthday is just next week and—"