Harry Styles Scares Me

Chapter Four

"Yeah...so?"

"Like I said...He could be a serial killer.  He's definitely walking the line of stalking."

Dori rolled her eyes,

"You're unhinged."  She said as she pulled my door open, "Look, you deserve to be happy.  And you're not very good at seeing things that could have potential...so I helped it along.  You can hate me all you want now but I have faith."

I shot her a dirty look,

"Faith in what?"

"That in a few weeks...you'll be thanking me."

"Not likely."  I sneered, "Stay out of my business Dori.  My life is not yours to toy with."  I added as I shut the door in her face.

"You'll be thanking me."  She yelled through the wood.

I shook my head, gave a huff and sat on the ground to finish my organizing.

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Harry arrived at my front door right at seven.  On the dot.  The reason I know that is because if he had shown up even a millisecond late I would've pretended not to be home.  Thank God Dori wasn't here when he arrived.  I couldn't take anymore of her fangirling.  I didn't know how he did it.

He stood outside the door.  I raised my eyebrows,

"Come in?"

He took a step in but only enough to be able to close the door.

I pushed my hair off my shoulders as I reached out for my purse,

"Where are we going?"

He turned to look at me after scanning my flat,

"Italian food."

"Oh..."

I kind of thought that was a joke.  Guess not.

He reached out for my hand when I approached the door.  I stared down at his fingers and then back up at him.

Oh right!  I was supposed to take his hand.

I awkwardly reached forward, gripping his hand like a six year old.  He smiled, shaking his head as he turned his hand to thread his fingers through mine,

"Baby steps."  He commented as we walked out into the hallway.

I resisted the urge to punch him.

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He was right about the Italian restaurant.  There was no one here except us and one other couple.  There was a total of maybe 10 tables in the entire place and one waitress handling all of them.  There were booths lining one slide, which is where Harry and I sat, and then tables dotted the rest of the place.  Typical red and white checkered tablecloths and fake flowers in tiny plastic vases were on each table. 

I pulled my jacket off my shoulders as I surveyed the place.  I knew Harry was watching me.  He finally spoke,

"This ok?"

I pushed my hair out of my eyes,

"Yeah?" 

I set to organizing the silverware on the table.  Harry's eyes followed my every move with amusement,

"I feel like Marie Kondo would be proud."

I frowned,

"I just like things how I like them."

"Nothing wrong with that."  He kept his hands up on the table.  I kept mine in my lap.

"So,"  He began after the waitress took our order and left, "How was your day?"
I shrugged, my fingers squeezing my legs so hard under the table I was sure I was leaving bruises,