Chasing Empty Spaces

Chapter 3

Harry gaped at the steering wheel, completely unsure how Faye thought that they were already in a committed relationship to one another. His knuckles were white as his grip was unforgiving along the wheel. He lolled his head back and spoke to a god that he didn’t necessarily believe in.

“This is a test, isn’t it?” Harry dully asked the ceiling of his car.

“Harry!” Faye’s muffled voice pierced the inside of the truck.

Harry groaned and turned to look outside the window. Faye was waving her hand in the air, attempting to get him out of the truck. A part of him wondered what would happen if he just drove away and left her there. Deciding that he didn’t want to face the wrath of his father or mother, Harry begrudgingly climbed out of the car. Faye intertwined their hands without preamble and Harry didn’t realize until they were at the hostess stand, that he hadn’t bothered to even curl his fingers around hers.

“Mr. Styles, what a pleasure!” The hostess gushed, recognizing him immediately. She beckoned for them to follow, “We already have your table set.” With a wink over her shoulder, the hostess tacked on, “Best seat in the house, Sir.”

Harry pointedly ignored the arrogant grin that curled Faye’s lips as they strode towards a table tucked by the bay window. Every time he had been to Blossoms, Harry and his family were sat at the same exact table. They wound their way through the busy restaurant, prominent members of society sending Harry smiles as they passed. He politely nodded but did not bother to stop for conversation.

“Here you are,” The hostess gestured towards their table, resting two menus on the maroon linen.

“Thank you, ma’am,” Harry said, pulling out Faye’s chair before taking his own seat.

Once a complimentary glass of merlot was poured in their wineglasses, Harry and Faye placed their dinner orders. Harry ordered tomato bisque and attempted to bite back a scoff when Faye coyly asked for the most expensive seafood platter on the menu. Raising their glasses together, Harry gave a non-heartfelt toast to their evening. Bountiful plates of food were presented in record speed and he asked for their waiter to bring out the full bottle of merlot. At some point, Faye grabbed Harry’s hand over the tabletop and hadn’t let go even though he continuously flexed his fingers. Dinner conversation consisted of Faye rambling about their future and Harry taking generous gulps of wine.

Harry lowered his glass and dragged his fingertip over the tablecloth, his previously full soup bowl staring back at him. He glimpsed out the window and started to observe the people walking by. For a Sunday evening, it was remarkably crowded out on the streets of town. Harry watched a group of men in uniform pass a group of women in pressed dresses. One of the men with slicked back blonde hair took off his cap and nodded to a woman with strawberry curls. The corner of Harry’s mouth quirked into a private grin as they parted ways, both the man and woman stealing flirtatious glances over their shoulders.

He was about to face forwards and at least pretend to be a good date when he caught sight of a familiar red bandana. Harry straightened his spine and dabbed his bottom lip with his tongue. Slowly meandering by the window was Louis and Zayn. There were a few other mechanics already strolling towards the entrance of Old Dog, but their quicker pace left the pair behind.

Louis’ head was tilted back as laughter poured out of him, the skin by his eyes crinkling. Harry subconsciously tightened his hand around Faye’s at the sight of someone else making Louis look infuriatingly happy. It didn’t help matters that Harry seemed to have the exact opposite effect on Louis than Zayn did. Even though it was mostly Harry’s fault, the notion did not sit well with him. He wanted to make Louis laugh the way Zayn did.