prosecco is a sparkling wine, vibrant and sweet, boasting notes of crisp apple and honeysuckle. peach notes linger long after finished.
—————
Harry hadn't realized how long it had been until he walked through the chattering restaurant.
He hadn't realized how long it had been since he had gone out; out for something more than a business meeting or picking up takeout to bring back home where he would eat while pouring over paperwork for the next day. It wasn't until he spotted the door to the private room where a friend's birthday party was being held that he realized it had been a little over six months since he had allowed himself to relax and enjoy the life his hard work had earned him. He could barely contain the bubbling excitement he felt as he reached the door to the party, able to hear the quiet chatter of his friends on the other side.
"Harry! You made it!"
He heard the slightly drunken voice call for him as soon as he slipped through the door. The room was bathed in soft lighting, a private bar lined the back wall of the room with various tables set up throughout, people sat at some while others were only used to house gifts and food. Strips of windows allowed for a look outside the restaurant, both of the city life outside and the quiet patio out back. The patio area was left with only a few others milling about, having been rented out in conjunction with the main party room.
Harry looked to whoever it was that called for him, finding his friend, Tawny, already making her way over with a flute of a bubbling, amber liquid in her hand. A smile stretched across his features at the sight. He had missed this.
"I was just telling them how I was worried you weren't going to make it, thinking you got called into some meeting last minute," she continued as she reached him, clumsily gesturing behind her with the flute in her hand. She settled a friendly hand on his bicep, using the hold to steady herself as she looked up at him with flushed cheeks.
"Not tonight. Nice to see you again," Harry smiled, leaning down and wrapping an arm around her waist in a hug. "Where's Charlotte?" he asked as he drew away, referencing the birthday girl for the night.
"Oh! She's by the bar with Tom and Jenny." Tawny pointed him in the direction of the bar, Charlotte being the one dressed in a pair of bright, paisley printed bottoms with a sparkling birthday tiara on her head.
Harry nodded his head, turning to match Tawny's gaze again before stepping towards the bar. "I'll find you later, yeah? 'M gonna go say hi."
She only nodded her head before flitting off to another group, leaving Harry to navigate through to the bar. He greeted each person who noticed him, promising to return later to catch everyone up on what he had been doing since they last saw him (just a bunch of nothing filled with paperwork and late nights at the office).
"Charlotte! Happy Birthday!" he bubbled when he reached the bar, opening his arms to wrap her in a hug.
"Thank you so much for coming, H. It's been so long since you've come out with us," she smiled at him, reciprocating his hug.
Harry pulled up a barstool after they parted from their hug, setting his gift for her down on the bartop. "I know, 'm sorry. Jus' been busy lately, but 'm gonna try to come out more. I miss everyone."
"Don't be sorry, its okay! We all understand, I'm just happy you made it" she insisted, the tinseled base of her birthday crown catching the light as she shook her head. Her eyes brightened as she caught sight of something behind his head, a beaming smile tugging at her lips as she waved whoever it was over. "Mitch, look who's here! Harry finally made it!"
"Harry! How have you been?! You haven't been out with us in so long!"
It felt good to be back.
—————
"'M gonna grab another drink, I'll be right back!" Harry called over his shoulder, waving behind him to the group that had brought him out to the patio with them. Once everyone got over the whole how are you, its been so long small talk, the group settled into the swing of things just as they used to. It felt nice to be surrounded by people he didn't know through work, both the patio and the main room now filled with people celebrating Charlotte's birthday and people he hadn't seen for the better part of the year. He did feel a bit guilty, though, feeling like people were paying as much—if not more—attention to him than Charlotte for the night. But, she didn't seem to mind (or notice at all, really) as she flitted about the party with a flushed smile on her face, draping herself across every person she talked to.
When he reached the bar, the bartender raised a questioning brow at him with a smile on her face. "Jus' another Old Fashioned, please," Harry requested, leaning over the bar before pulling out his phone and scrolling through his missed notifications. He tried his best to peel away from the work related emails that generated on his lock screen, but he couldn't help but peek at the subject line before someone saved him from his self-inflicted torture.
"You never came and found me again, asshole," Tawny giggled behind him, coming up to stand beside him at the bar.
"Sorry," he laughed, gratefully locking his phone and putting away the emails, "Mitch and everyone pulled me outside, and you know I can't be pulled away from karaoke."
Tawny playfully rolled her eyes at him, twisting against the bar so her back was against the structure as she faced the main room. Harry mimicked her gaze, looking over his shoulder to find what had taken her attention. A few new faces had shown up since he had arrived; faces of people he couldn't wait to catch up with. He pretended as if he wasn't looking for one guest in particular, though he knew his shoulders minutely dropped in disappointment when his fleeting scan of the room came up empty. Maybe, she wasn't coming tonight.
"Oh, my god," Tawny breathed, her voice low as a look of disbelief crossed her features. She spared a glance towards Harry before returning her eyes to the subject of her shock. "I think Andrew came with Iris tonight."
He recognized the names but couldn't place why Tawny would be so surprised to see them together. They both were apart of their friend group, though Andrew always left a sour taste in Harry's mouth.
He was a bit of a dick who acted as if he were still some college frat guy despite being only a year younger than Harry himself; he was rude in the name of being 'blunt', and enjoyed entertaining a playboy lifestyle while promising these women a future of the opposite with him. Harry didn't like him, but he tolerated him for the sake of being the bigger person. As for Iris, he only really hung out with her when the whole group was present but she was very nice and very funny as far as he could remember. It wasn't odd for some of their group to pair off with each other, so he didn't understand what Tawny was getting at. Had he really missed so much?
"What's wrong with that?" he questioned, watching the way Iris leaned against Andrew's side as they talked to one of Charlotte's friends he didn't recognize.
"Oh, that's right, you haven't hung out in a while," Tawny mused, pulling her disappointed stare from the couple, "You haven't heard what happened with (Y/N) yet, have you?"
(Y/N).
A smile threatened to tug at his lips at the mention of her name. That's who he'd been looking for.
Harry couldn't deny the small crush he harbored for her, never able to pull his eyes from her or his attention away when he was in her presence. She was funny, and smart, and so kind, and entirely too beautiful to be fair. He remembered when Iris brought her around the very first time, the two of them being close, and Harry could already tell she was going to be hard to forget. It had been at a little get together at Charlotte's house, only the core group of people in attendance with Iris' plus one, and he remembers being so caught up when he first saw her, he completely stopped speaking in the middle of a conversation with Mitch.
After promptly being teased, Harry made it his mission to get to know her that night, listening intently to each of her little stories and the small introduction Iris offered on her behalf. He found that they had the same taste in music and a similar sense of humor that Harry could see made her feel more at ease when he would laugh at her jokes. He had planned on asking for her number and hoping to make plans to see her again by the end of the night, having decided he wanted to see more of her without the pressure of their friend group watching on. It wasn't until (Y/N) tossed out some throw away comment to Iris just as everyone was saying their goodbyes, that he put his phone away and realized he was going to need to minimize his affection for her to see her as nothing but a friend.
"No, I have to go to bed early tonight. I have a lecture at eight tomorrow morning with that one professor that marks you off if you're not at least five minutes early." He remembers the way she rolled her eyes as she finished off her comment, shrugging her jacket on her shoulders before following after Iris to say goodnight to everyone.
She was in school. She was young enough to still be in college, and Harry couldn't help but feel guilty for spending so much time flirting with her that night and planning his next move. He'd never really considered himself old before, still being on the so-called 'right side' of thirty-five (though he figured he's more so on the precipice of the right side, his birthday only a few months away), but there was something about the fact that she was young enough to be taking classes to prepare her for a career ahead while he had already been established for years in his, that made him feel guilty. He knew by all intents and purposes, there wasn't anything wrong with being interested in her, but he couldn't help but feel like the creepy older man that he'd heard women complain about so often. She probably didn't want him following her around and trying to earn her affection when she was just trying to make friends.
So, that night, Harry remembers the way he quickly shoved his phone back into his pocket—earning a confused glance from Mitch—before offering (Y/N) a friendly hug goodbye, and a quiet nice to meet you! falling from his lips. He lingered only a few minutes longer afterwards, following after Mitch who left soon after his own goodbyes. Since then, he'd made a choice every time she came out with them, to keep things on a level just below professional. He cared about her, but he'd rather keep her at an arm's length than make her any degree of uncomfortable, even if that crush he had for her never really dissipated.
"Um, no," Harry answered, the bartender sliding him his icy glass, "What happened?" He dreaded to hear what could have conspired between (Y/N) and Andrew, the latter's name already causing a tick in his jaw.
A downturned expression pulled at Tawny's features, the kind of look he imagined she would pull after watching a commercial with sad animals. "Apparently," she started, waving her hand in front of her, "(Y/N) and Andrew had been talking for the past couple of weeks, and they were supposed to go out last weekend, on a real date. (Y/N) told Charlotte that they were supposed to meet at a restaurant, but Andrew just stood her up. She waited for over an hour, I'm pretty sure, and he didn't even say anything until almost midnight that night. He told her he was 'sorry'"—she curled her fingers in the air to mimic quotation marks around the word, as well as a roll of her eyes,—"but that it was 'probably for the best, anyway', and that he'd been seeing someone else or something like that. She told Charlotte everything after she got home from the restaurant that night, but no one's really heard from her since. And it seems like whoever Andrew was seeing, though, turned out to be Iris."
Harry followed Tawny's line of sight, viewing the way Iris held onto Andrew's arm so tightly through a different lens. Of course, Andrew would try it with (Y/N), of course he would. Not only did he try to worm his way into her life, but he took the same chance Harry had been dying to take for months, and used it to tear (Y/N) down and replace her with someone he knew was close to her. Harry felt a bout of anger flare through him at the realization of what Andrew had most likely done to (Y/N). He always bragged on and on about how he was able to charm one girl this night, and another the next, telling them sweet stories of their beauty and the way they made his heart race and how he would do anything to be with them. He was good at playing the shy, crushing boy just before he got the attention he wanted—typically some kind of sexual favor—, then leaving. Harry was always more than disinterested and disgusted with these stories, and to add (Y/N)'s face into the mix did nothing to settle the tense that fell over his shoulders and the irrational thought of marching over to Andrew and finally laying into him the way he'd wanted since he met him.
"Fucking dick, right?" Tawny interrupted his stewing, her words coming out as an exasperated sigh.
"'S what I've been sayin' since he started coming around," Harry grumbled, sipping on the drink in his hand as a way to stop himself from throwing it over Andrew's head. "How do any of us even fucking know him?"
Tawny laughed at his question, shaking her head as if she had no idea either. She settled after a moment, her features taking on that pity look again. "It just sucks because (Y/N)'s so nice, and she told Charlotte that she thought he really liked her. I don't think she's even talked to anyone since she got here tonight, she's still so upset."
"She's here?" A furrow pulled at Harry's brow as he faced Tawny. Since becoming more comfortable around everyone, (Y/N) had turned into something of a butterfly that flitted around every get-together and left a trail of bright laughter and sparkling smiles behind her. She typically left the wallflower position open for Harry to fill, allowing him the privilege of admiring her.
"Exactly," Tawny mumbled, casting her gaze off to a table to the side of the room, hidden by the pile of gifts on another. Harry could just barely see the pink of (Y/N)'s top around the gift bags flooding the table in front of her, her face lit up by her phone in her hands and a watered down glass of something next to her with only chips of ice left in place of the cubes. "Are you going to talk to her?" Tawny asked, sipping on her own drink beside Harry.
He thought about it for a moment, figuring that if she wanted to talk about it, she would have. And she would probably want to talk to someone she actually knew, not some guy that hung out with her friends occasionally. "I don't know. If she wanted to talk about it, she would have with one of y'guys, already. I don't want to push her."
"If she's going to talk about it with anyone, I think it'd be you, actually. She really likes you, you know." Tawny spoke so nonchalantly, Harry didn't think she realized just how hard his heart was beating in that moment. "Every time we've gone out since you got promoted, she's asked if you were going to be there, and when you were going to be coming out with us again; she missed you. I think she'd be really happy to talk to you, H."
Harry took one more glance at (Y/N), finding her gaze still fixed on her phone though it didn't look like she was even seeing what was on her screen.
He slowly nodded his head, picking his drink up from the bar before looking towards Tawny. "I'll be right back."
Harry only saw Tawny nod at him with a small smile on her face before he made his way towards (Y/N)'s private table. She didn't notice him as he rounded the corner around the gift table.
"Do y'mind if I sit with you?" Harry had barely gotten his question out of his mouth before (Y/N) snapped her head up to look at him, her phone falling flat onto the table in front of her. It wasn't until then that Harry saw the smallest of glittery little tears sitting in the waterline of her eyes.
(Y/N) was quick to wipe them away, feigning the action as a motion to move her hair from her face. She beamed up at him with a surprised look on her face, one that eased his heart just a bit from the revelation that she had been on the verge of crying just a minute ago. "Harry! Of course, you can! I didn't know you were coming tonight, its been so long."
A small smile tugged at Harry's features as he pulled out the chair beside her. "It has been a while," he affirmed, biting his tongue to stop himself from immediately diving into calling Andrew every horrible name in the book.
"How have you been? I heard you got promoted at your marketing firm, right?" She voice titled upward at around the title of his job, posing a question around if he really worked in marketing or if she'd got it wrong.
Harry couldn't stop the lopsided smile that hit his features. She remembered.
"Marketing, yeah," he confirmed, nodding his head as his fingers traced around his glass, "Jus' been busy with work. Definitely a lot more paperwork now, but 's worth it. How 'bout you? How are your classes and everything?"
(Y/N)'s gaze fell when he started his line of questioning, her smile dropping just the smallest bit at the corners. "I've been good. It's been a long week, lots of homework since finals are coming up. But it's really nice to see everyone again, I feel like it's been so long. Longer for you, though, I'm sure." She ended with a small laugh, one that didn't quite reach her eyes, but Harry wasn't surprised. He knew she was lying.
He remembers being her age, and wanting so badly for everyone to like him. The ways he shifted and changed his personality to be the person he thought others wanted him to be, in hopes of earning their acceptance. She was trying so hard to make it seem like she was just as happy as usual, make it easy for others to interact with her. She was much too good for Andrew, and for anyone really—including, himself. How Andrew could act so nonchalantly after blowing out her light, Harry would never understand. And, if he had a better back and didn't have a meeting tomorrow morning, he would have dragged Andrew outside and finally tried out all the moves he's learned since he's taken up boxing. But he couldn't leave (Y/N), not when she so obviously didn't want to be alone, no matter how hard she tried to hide it.
"If y'need any help, I could try," he offered, a small smile on his face as he tried to meet her downturned gaze, "Don't know if m'business degree would be much help in your english classes, though."
Harry felt his heart skip a beat as a ghost of a smile crossed her features, accompanied by a breathy laugh she stifled down. "You mean you've never had to analyze Beowulf and describe each of the pagan elements and how they pertained to the Christian beliefs of the eighth century?" She tried her best to keep her face straight as she spoke, but Harry could still see the smile edging at her lips.
"'S crazy the way they jus' gave out degrees when I was in school, cause I've got no idea what you're even talking about," Harry laughed, absently leaning over the table as he spoke, closer to (Y/N). His eyes were glued to the way she laughed at his teasing, the bright smile that covered her face and, if he hadn't known any better, he would have thought she was the happiest girl in the room with the way sunshine poured from her giggle.
Harry let a beat pass between them, feeling his own smile fade as he remembered why he came over in the first place. He didn't want to pull the small shred of happiness that had wormed its way onto her features, but he also didn't want her to feel like she had to hide the way she felt just because she wanted others to feel comfortable around her.
He swallowed, fixing his gaze to his glass, following the droplets of water dotting the outside. "Tawny told me, by the way," he mumbled, flicking his gaze to her for just a second before settling back on his drink. "About—um—about Andrew."
"Oh, that" she breathed, her tone edged with a laugh Harry wasn't expecting. He shifted his eyes to see her reaction, finding a forced kind of amusement tainting her features. Though she tried to feign lightheartedness, there was an embarrassed edge that lined her features in the way she bit the inside of her cheek and refused to match his gaze.
He rolled his lips between his teeth as he figured his next words, cautiously eyeing the reddened waterline of her eyes and the sheen that now covered her irises. "I jus' wanted to tell y'that 'm sorry, and y'don't deserve that. Andrew's a dick and 'm here for you, even though I can't come around all the time. 'M always here."
She pursed her lips as he spoke, seemingly unable to even process his words as she fought off the small collection of tears that pooled in the waterline of her eyes. Her bottom lip wobbled the harder she tried to fight off the sobs that were working in her chest, sniffling her nose. Against her wishes, the tears lacquering her eyes overwhelmed the ledge of her waterline, her tears flowing in hot streaks that left streams down her cheeks.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice shaky and barely audible over the distant chatter around the room. She delicately brought her fingers to her eyes, trying her best to stop the tears from pouring down her face. She refused to look at Harry, or even in the other direction where Andrew and Iris were still fawning over one another, her gaze fixed to her glass that was now more water than lemonade. "I don't know why I'm cr-crying. It's not even that big of a deal, I'm just being over-overdramatic. I'm sorry."
Harry waved away her apologies with a shake of his head, his brow furrowing as he scooted his chair closer to her's. He hesitantly put his arm around her shoulder, knowing she needed comfort more than any rules he had set for himself. He pulled her closer to his side, her tears now carrying small bits of black from her mascara. She leaned gratefully into him, her cheek laying against his shoulder as Harry propped his chin on the top of her head.
"Don't need to be sorry, love, really. You're not being overdramatic, promise." His voice was quiet as he spoke against her hair, even sparing a small kiss to her temple as he squeezed his arm around her shoulder. He let her cry into him for a moment, her hands fluttering over her face in an attempt to clean her face from the already smudged black under her eyes and the tracks trailing down her cheeks.
He cooed small reassuring words to her, hoping she would still be able to hear them over the stuttered breathing that filtered through her lungs. He tried to shield her as best he could from the party, covering most of her with his own body so she could feel some semblance of privacy. He heard her breathe something similar to that of This is so embarrassing, broken up by stuttered breaths and her crackling voice.
"C'mon," he whispered to her, ducking his head to her ear. He started getting up from his seat, offering his hand out for (Y/N) to take, "Let's go somewhere quiet, yeah?"
"Okay," she peeped, keeping her head down as she stood up, pressing her palm to Harry's before lacing their fingers together.
He led her through to the patio, the space now cleared as the temperature had dropped. He pulled her to one of the tables in the corner, so no one could peek at them from the main room. One side of the table had a booth setup, allowing (Y/N) to pull Harry along to slide in next to her. Once settled into the farthest corner of the booth, she slipped her hand out from his and tended to the petite tears that had continued to fall down her cheeks as he led them outside.
Her fingertips were smudged with the black of her mascara, matching that of the soft skin of her undereyes. A crease formed in Harry's brow, watching the way she began harshly scrubbing at her cheeks as her breathing came in stuttering inhales.
"Sweetheart," he cooed, gently wrapping his fingers around her wrist, "Stop, 's okay."
He pulled her hands from her face, before grabbing one of the cloth napkins set out on the table. Twisting in his spot, he brought the linen to her face, the tip of his finger wrapped in the fabric. He pat the dewy skin on her cheeks, flakes of black from her lashes being transferred on to the clean white of the napkin.
"I'm being s-so dumb, I'm so sorry, Harry," she swallowed around the lump in her throat, her voice nasally as Harry delicately pat at her undereyes. "The one time you're able t-to come out with us and I cry all over you for no-no reason."
"Stop," Harry repeated with a sigh. Pinching her chin between his index finger and thumb, he gently positioned her head as he continued to wipe at her eyes and try his best to lessen the tears still slowly leaking from her ducts. "You're not dumb. Or overdramatic. 'S normal t'feel this way. What he did was awful, (Y/N), and I can't imagine how it feels to see him again so soon with someone else. Y'don't deserve that. You're not dumb for feeling."
As he spoke, Harry was aware of the way her bottom lip wobbled under his hold and the rejuvenated sheen of tears that fell over her eyes. She drew her gaze to match his own concerned one before she fell into his chest, Harry abandoning the now dirtied linen in his hand in favor of wrapping his arms around her. She cuddled closely to his chest, her face buried in his neck with her own arms looped round his middle.
"Just sucks," she whispered into his skin, her voice lighter than the kiss of her lashes against the column of his throat.
"I know, but 's gonna be okay," Harry sighed, cautiously resting his cheek on the top of her head. He wanted to say more, his thoughts wiped of all other goals than to make her happy. All he wanted was to speak the truth, sing her praises and promise her just how much better she was than Andrew and the grief he had caused her. But he didn't want to scare her, or make her any kind of uncomfortable, especially since she had sought out comfort in him.
"Harry?"
"Hm?" He stroked his hand down her back, (Y/N)'s own hands fisting at the softened fabric of his shirt.
She swallowed, Harry able to feel the motion against his shoulder before she spoke. "Is this always going to happen to me?"
Harry swore his heart broke at her words. The resigned edging to her voice made it all that much more painful as it felt like the edges of his cracked heart raked down his chest. He gently peeled her from the home she had made against his chest, his hands on her shoulders. He ducked his head to match her downcast gaze.
"(Y/N)," he started, a stern edging to the honey coated call, "You are so kind, and smart, and funny, and gorgeous. There are so many people who realize all of those things, I promise you. And those are the people who are going to treat y'right, and take care of you the way y'deserve." A wild idea flittered through Harry's head, threatening to slip from his mouth before he stopped himself. Though he wished he could allow them to fall, he was scared of the reaction he would garner, especially when (Y/N) was already so emotional. He didn't want to push any harder.
She shook her head as she looked off to the side, avoiding his relentless gaze. The leftover tears from her previous sessions pooled on her waterline, dripping down in slow succession. "But this is what happens every time. How else am I supposed to be treated?"
Harry's eyes flicked down to his hands that laid in his lap, twisting his rings around his fingers. He rolled his lips between his teeth, making a last minute decision he hoped he wouldn't regret.
He brought his head up to find (Y/N) also looking towards his hands, the saddened look on her face he hoped would be wiped away. "Y'deserve so much, (Y/N). Anyone would be lucky to show y'how y'should be treated,"—he nervously gulped before squaring his shoulders and feigning confidence—"How a man should treat you, not whatever it is that Andrew thinks he is."
Her eyes were wide as she finally matched his gaze, the dotted glow of the fairy lights around them adding a shine to her eyes he noticed was no longer from tears. She didn't offer any commentary, only looking to him for answers to questions she hadn't even posed yet. But he knew. And he knew just how he was going to answer them, even if he had to pretend he had no doubt in his mind of her reaction.
"I could show you," he started, tracing his gaze along her features in an effort to gauge her reaction. "If y'wanted, I could take y'out and show y'how that date should have gone, and how they all should be after. As friends, though, of course."
His final statement was added in a rush. All he wanted was to see her smile again, this picture of her with tears in her eyes and tracks down her cheeks doing more destruction on his heart than he thought possible. Although this was a bit of a self-indulgent way of getting her to smile, he would never expect anything from her or their time together.
"A date?" she asked, a tint of disbelief to her voice.
Harry bit back his smile, teeth digging into the full of his bottom lip. He nodded his head, hoping he hadn't blown his chance at even just a friendship with her.
He watched on as a smile bloomed across (Y/N)'s features. "You'd do that for me?"
"Of course, I would." The matching dimples on either cheek made themselves known as Harry matched her smile. "Heard y'missed me anyway, so it'd be nice to spend time together." His voice held a teasing lilt as the moment turned to a much lighter note.
Her jaw dropped in a shocked expression, her eyes wide. "Who told you that?! Was it Tawny? I told her not to tell you!"
"Why not, love?" Harry beamed, his heart skipping a beat over her admission of missing him. "I think 's cute."
"Stop," she whined, a shy smile on her face as she flitted her gaze to the scene behind him.
Harry couldn't stop himself before his response dropped from his mouth, but he felt like he could say anything at this point. He could say and do anything as long as she looked at him with the stars in her eyes (even though he was pretty sure those were just the fairy lights). "I missed y'too, you know. 'M really happy I got to see you tonight."
Her smile only widened as she dropped her gaze to her lap where her hands suddenly became restless under the attention. "Me too, even if I started crying two minutes into talking." Harry could see the roll of her eyes.
"I mean, y'still got a date out of it, so I think y'did alright."
"Yeah," she smiled, looking up at him with the smallest tilt to her head, "I've never been on a 'friend date' before. Thank you for asking me, Harry. It means a lot."
Though the addition of the word 'friend' caused a small drop to his shoulders, he was more than excited for the date, even with the predetermined conditions. The night wasn't going to be about him and his feelings for her, it was going to be about the way she deserved to be treated and the wiping away of the imprint Andrew left on her. The night was going to be about making her happy. That was all Harry wanted from her.
"Y'deserve it, sweetheart."
—————
As soon as she was ready, Harry led them back to the thick of the party with her following closely behind him. He had spent the rest of the party closer to (Y/N) than he had ever allowed himself. Especially as the night was winding down, the main group of them (minus Iris and Andrew, who had snuck off earlier in the night and never returned) being the only people remaining, (Y/N) seemed to have made it her mission to stick by Harry's side as much as she could. They hadn't talked much more about the date other than setting it up for next Friday night after he got off work, allowing Harry to fall back into his favored wallflower position as (Y/N) lit up the room despite the red rim around her eyes and the puff of her cry-swollen lips.
It was only after Charlotte had started dozing off with her birthday tiara going sideways on the top of her head, that the night was called to be wrapped up. Even after all of the chattering goodbyes were shared, and the joking requests that Harry shouldn't wait so long before coming out again, he couldn't help himself from delaying his departure from (Y/N).
She had just shrugged on her purple jacket, clumsily tugging up the zipper when (Y/N) looked to Harry who was lent against the doorway with his car keys in one hand and phone in the other. Harry had looked at her through his lashes, a small smile on his lips as he caught her gaze.
"Bye, Harry," she said, her voice soft and quiet to match the warming glow of the last few threads of light strung across the room.
"Don't sound so sad," he started with a coo, opening his arms for her to fall into, "We'll see each other again really soon, remember?" She nodded her head against his chest, Harry able to feel the smush of her cheek against his skin as she smiled.
She was the first to pull back, Harry allowing her to set the the pace of their contact though he wished he could have frozen that moment and just held her for even a second longer. Now that he knew what it felt like to have her warmth seeping through his skin, he couldn't get enough of it.
She looked to him with a softness to her gaze he was sure no one but her could ever achieve, as if her irises were melting before him. "Yeah, we will," her voice just barely louder than a whisper. Harry felt his breathing hitch in his throat as her hands slid from his neck and down his chest with her palms laying flat against the fabric of his jacket. Her own gaze followed her hands, only bashfully looking to Harry through her lashes. "Thank you again, by the way. For staying with me tonight, I'm sure it wasn't how you were planning on spending your first night hanging out with us all again."
A lopsided smile tugged at his features, leaving a soft kink in his lips as he gave a reassuring squeeze with his hands on her waist. "Of course. Whenever y'need me I'll be there. I wouldn't have wanted to spend it any other way."
She dropped her eyes to his feet as she took in his words, the toes of his boots just a hair away from touching her own shoes. Small strands of hair fell and obstructed Harry's view of her face, something he had to stop himself from fixing by brushing the hairs back and cradling her cheeks so she would face him again. Instead he allowed her that small moment of shy privacy, knowing that with the grouping of people who were distractedly eyeing their interaction, they would both surely be interrogated soon enough.
"I should probably go," she mumbled, reluctantly pulling her hands from his chest and taking a step back as she pulled her keys from her jacket. "But we'll see each other soon, right?"
Her reiteration of his words only solidified the smile on his face.
Harry nodded his head, dropping his hands from her waist and sliding them back into the pockets of his jacket. "'M excited already."
"Me too."
(Y/N) made her exit after that, tossing a wave to the rest of the group before looking to Harry one more time with a quiet smile on her face. He wanted to walk her out tonight, indulge himself the smallest bit and give himself more time with her, but he wanted to save everything for when he took her out for real.
It wasn't until Harry had made his own exit and was getting his car started to go home did he receive the text he was expecting from the moment he pulled (Y/N) outside with him.
Tawny
I told you so.
—————
Harry doesn't think he's been this nervous in a long time. Maybe it was because he hadn't been on a date since his last relationship (a little over two years, then), or because he's never wanted a first date to go so perfectly in his life. He had made reservations the next morning after Charlotte's party and had gotten to know just how few florists were in his area with the amount of time he spent browsing over bouquets. The whole seven days he had to wait to see (Y/N) again were spent with Harry trying his best to plan out every single detail, right down to the outfit he wanted to wear in the event that she wore a this dress he had seen posted to her instagram in the weeks prior. He wanted to match her.
He looked at himself in the mirror one more time, the bouquet of peach colored roses and white daisies resting on the table below. Harry ran a nervous hand through his hair. His curls tumbled through his fingers as he puffed out his cheeks with a heavy exhale. His gaze traveled down his form, hands distractedly smoothing out nonexistent wrinkles in his black blazer. He carefully tugged on the mint green dress shirt underneath, pulling the lapels out just far enough that the delicate baby's breath flower embroidery could be seen. He worried for a minute, debating if he should button his top back up—if his show of skin, with the tips of his bird tattoos showing, was too much. He shook off his indecision, instead adjusting the string of pearls around his neck so the clasp faced the back.
He had to stop himself when he swore he saw a chip in his freshly painted black nails, knowing he was convincing himself of such flaws out of jittery nerves. He double checked the time on his phone; thirty-two minutes before he promised he would be at her door. He wanted to ensure he wasn't a second late to pick her up. He cradled the bouquet delicately to his chest, and took in a deep breath before leaving.
The drive was familiar from the few times (Y/N) opted to host gatherings and Harry was able to make it. While he was eased by the knowledge—the possibility of him showing up at the wrong complex at a slim-to-none chance—the familiarity caused the time to go by faster than Harry even realized. With nerves still fluttering through his fingers and seeping into his veins, he walked the staircase up to her apartment. He gripped the bouquet like a lifeline as the pacing off is footsteps matched the thrumming of his heart. The path to her door was a blur, Harry acting on autopilot until the golden lettering declaring her apartment number stared him in the face. With a practiced breath, he knocked on the door.
Each second felt like an hour with his heartbeat creating a soundtrack that rushed through his ears. He held the bouquet in front of his chest, hoping for the flowers to be the first thing she saw when she opened the door. He could faintly hear the rattling of the doorknob on the other side before it was swung open to unveil his date for the night.
In her pajamas.
"Harry?" (Y/N) looked to him with her eyes wide and her jaw dropped in a small gape. Her skin was clean of makeup with her hair pinned into a knot on the top of her head. Strawberry printed pajama shorts adorned her legs with a worn grey top slouching off her shoulder.
This wasn't quite how Harry had pictured her outfit for the night, assuming she would have opted for one of those flirty outfits she posted on her social medias, but if this is what she wanted, he had no quarrels. He couldn't deny she still looked beautiful, so he had no reason to complain.
"Are you ready?" he questioned, a lopsided smile on his lips as he gazed down at her. She most likely needed to put shoes on at the very least, if the fuzzy socks with cat faces printed all over them had anything to say.
Her gaze dropped to flowers held tightly in his grip. "You were serious? About the date?"
Harry's heart dropped at her words. Had she not been serious in her acceptance? Had he just made a huge fool of himself? He guessed he's avoided her before, but maybe now he would have to be much more deliberate with his appearances.
His free hand rubbed at the back of his burning neck, lowering his gaze to the flowers that now smelled too sweet. "Yeah," he breathed, an embarrassed flush working its way up his chest, "But if y'changed your mind or anything, I completely understand. I apologize for interrupting your ni—"
"No!" she rushed, flailing her hand in front of her to match her shaking head, "I-I didn't! I just thought you had only asked to make me feel better last week, since I was crying all over you and everything." Her voice ended in a humorless breath of a laugh, her gaze matching his with a bashful softness to her irises he had missed in her absence.
His smile turned a shy corner as the dimple in his cheek deepened. "I did want y'to feel better, but I meant it when I asked you. I really do wanna take y'out and show y'how you're supposed to be treated. If you'll let me."
"I want you to, really!" she stressed, bouncing in place with stray strands of hair leaking from her bun, "I'm so sorry, Harry, I guess I just—I don't know. I need to get ready, but I'll be right back! You can come in and wait, if you want." She stepped back from the doorframe, allowing Harry the space to slip in, the heels of his boots soundless against the fluffy grey rug in her walkway.
"These are for you, by the way," Harry smiled, handing the arrangement out for her as she locked he door behind him.
Her eyes rounded out as with a puppy dog's softness as she gazed solely up at him, as if she hadn't seen the bouquet at all. "They're so pretty, Harry. Thank you." She gave him the sweetest smile as she took them from his grip, muttering something about putting them in water. "You can put on some Netflix or something if you want, I'm so sorry you have to wait on me!" she called from the kitchen, her voice trailing farther away as she moved towards her room.
"'S not a problem, take your time," he answered back, moving towards the living room to her secondhand, brown suede sofa.
Just as he was about to take a seat on one of the cushions, he heard the sound of feet pattering along the hardwood. A moment later (Y/N) popped up beside him, still in her pajamas with her hair now pulled back by a pearl studded headband. She wrapped her arms around his middle with the full of her cheek smushed against his chest.
"Thank you so much, Harry," she mumbled against the fabric of his jacket, her grip tight. Sincerity dripped from her words, cloaking over his heart in a warming glow.
Without a thought, Harry draped his arms around her as best he could from the angle she offered. He dropped his head to rest on her hair, his cheek atop her head. With his eyes fluttering closed, he savored the contact and held her just as tightly as she.
"Of course, love," he whispered against her hair, lips brushing the crown of her head.
She reluctantly pulled back first, a soft smile on her face Harry hoped he would be able to memorize by the end of the night. "I'm gonna go finish, but I'll be as fast as I can."
With that, she scuttled off back down the hall. Harry couldn't shake the smile on his face as he settled on her couch, the ghost of her silhouette burned against his form. He mindlessly looked through the titles on the TV with no comprehension of what he was seeing, much too distracted with the memory of her hold. If he wasn't already completely gone for her before, he figured he would be going home love-drunk after this date.
Time passed with half an episode of Bake Off Harry didn't remember selecting playing from the television, he heard the sound of her feet, now clad in what had to be a set of heels, stepping down the hall. He stood from his spot on the couch, turning around to find her adjusting her outfit in the full length mirror posted on the wall beside the bathroom.
Just as he had hoped, the same clean, white dress she had posed in on her instagram weeks earlier adorned her body, embroidered with flowers the same shade of cream that matched the ones on Harry's own shirt. The satin base of the dress wrapped around her body, the hem ending at the middle of her thighs while the tulle overlay boasting the delicate blossoms reached her ankles. The silken tie in the waist tugged one side of the dress to the other, allowing the tulle skirt to split and sway behind her with each step she took. The neckline laid wide across her shoulders, framing her collarbones before the tulle of the sleeves wisped around her arms and cinched at her wrist. Her hair was simply held back by the pearl headband, the clean white matching that of her dress with her dewy lips and wide eyes stealing most of Harry's attention.
He was sure his jaw had dropped as soon as he caught sight of her. There was no other reaction that could have properly suited her appearance beside dropping to his knees in worship.
She looked to him once she gave up on taming the flyaways that escaped her hairstyle. She gave him a soft, apologetic smile, her lashes curving outwards with a flick towards her brows. "I tried to be as fast as I could, I hope I didn't mess up your plans."
"Y'look... gorgeous, (Y/N)." He couldn't manage any other thoughts to leave his mouth, nothing coherent enough to make sense.
She released her gaze from his with a shy smile on her face, finding interest in the white heels on her feet. "Thank you. I wanted to look like I belonged next to you."
Could a heart break and swell at the same time? In what world would she have to work at being on his level when she was so clearly leagues above him in all senses of the word?
"I dunno, love," Harry smiled, "I think everyone is gonna know I was the one that had to beg for a date with you." He couldn't find it in himself to be ashamed of his forward flirting, allowing himself the smallest of indulgences for the night knowing this would be a one time thing.
(Y/N) only held a bashful smile on her face at his words, the shine of the satin wrapped around her body rivaling that of the gleam in her eyes.
"Ready?" he asked again, mimicking that of when he first arrived at her apartment.
She was quick to nod her head and take his offered arm, still shy as she leaned against his side with the skirt of her dress brushing against his leg.
"We match! Like our flowers, I mean!" (Y/N) bubbled once he opened the car door for her, gaze attached to the flowers stitched on his top.
Harry smiled, nodding his head and mumbling out a small we do, huh. Just as he had hoped.
—————
"Reservation under Styles, please."
The hostess nodded her head, tapping away at the tablet in front of her as she offered a polite smile. (Y/N)'s hand was placed in the crook of Harry's elbow, her hold tight as she looked above at the crystalline chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. He couldn't help but feel a bit of pride puff at his chest from the way she seemed to be in awe of the restaurant he had picked for them that night. This was just the beginning of the follow through to his promise he made a week earlier. He planned on thoroughly proving how she deserved to be treated after other's had convinced her otherwise.
"C'mon," he whispered to her, his voice hush as he shuffled towards the friendly waitress that beckoned them to their table. (Y/N) snapped her head in his direction with her eyes still wide, reflecting the prismatic drops that hung from the chandeliers.
Harry maneuvered her in front of him, reluctantly pulling her delicate hold from his arm in favor of nudging her ahead of him. He stayed close behind (Y/N) as she followed the smartly dressed waitress, reassuringly cuddling her hand in his when she reached back. He smiled as he listened in to the way she shyly engaged in small talk with their waitress—who introduced herself to be Tara—with her free hand nervously toying with the satin bow at her waist.
"Is this table to your liking?" Tara asked, her smile bright as she stopped next to a small table set in an intimate corner of the restaurant.
"Yes, thank you," Harry responded for the both of them. He was quick to move around (Y/N), pulling out her chair before looking to her with a smile. She shyly thanked him with her voice quiet enough for only him to hear before settling in the offered seat. Harry pushed the chair in before rounding the table and sitting in his own across from her's.
The waitress made her exit after dropping off the menus with a promise to return in just a moment for their drink orders. Harry answered for the both of them, leaving (Y/N) to examine the menu in front of her with wide eyes and careful fingers lingering along the edges. He admired her with a small smile on his lips, taking in the way she seemed to attempt to memorize every single detail of everything in her sight.
"What do y'think?" he mused, leaning forward with his elbow balanced on the table and his chin propped in his hand.
She snapped her head up to face him, her eyes holding a moony sparkle as she looked at him. "Harry," she sighed, a dreamy tint to her tone, "You didn't have to take me somewhere this nice. I would've been happy to go anywhere with you."
"I know," Harry smiled, enjoying the sound of her affection for him, even if it was only as friends. "But I wanted to make this really special for you. Jus' like I promised, right?"
A timid smile spread over her features with the curl softened by his words. She lowered her gaze from his, Harry too caught up in how endearingly sweet she was to miss the sight of her melted irises.
Just then, Tara approached their table. Her smile was bright and polite as she greeted them. "What can I get you started with?" Tara looked to (Y/N) first, instinctually starting with ladies first.
She floundered under her gaze, flicking her wide eyes to Harry before glancing down at the menu in front of her. "Um—a water, please?" Her answer sounded like a question before she looked back to Harry, her expression akin to the embarrassed look she held just before crying at the party a week ago.
Tara nodded her head, her eyes fixed on the small notepad in her hand before placing her attention on Harry. "And you, sir?"
"Water as well, please. But, we'll share a bottle of your Château de Salle, if possible." He handed back the small drink menu to Tara, offering a smile as she scribbled his request.
"Of course, Mr. Styles. Good choice," she praised, sliding the small notepad into the pocket of her apron, "I'll be back with your drinks and for your dinner orders in just a minute." With that, Tara disappeared to tend to her other tables.
"What's a Ch-Chateau de Salle?" (Y/N) asked, her pronunciation of the wine shaky.
A smile spread across Harry's features. She was so cute. "'S wine," he explained, "A rosé. I think you'll like it."
"Oh," she breathed, her brows raised, "I probably shouldn't drink tonight actually."
"And why is that?" A pinch formed in his own as he gazed at her.
A timid smile pulled at her lips. "I don't know if you remember, but I'm a huge lightweight. I don't want to act too silly in a restaurant this nice." She finished with a laugh, surely recalling some memory of a party Harry halfway attended while the rest of him focused on ensuring he didn't run into (Y/N) too many times.
"'M sure you'll be fine, love. Don't worry about anyone else," he murmured, his voice low as he gestured vaguely around them to the other patrons, "Do whatever y'want, I'll be here to take care of y'anyway." He ended his words with a softened smile, hoping she would heed his advice and do whatever made her happy for the night.
After earning a bashful nod from her, Harry dropped his eyes to the menu in his hands. He quickly skimmed over the options, the menu familiar from the several times he had attended business dinners at the venue.
He allowed his gaze to travel from the menu to slyly glance at the girl across from him through the vignette of his lashes, the dinner lighting creating a divine glow around her form. The pearly headband holding her hair back created a small bump of volume with the accessory emulating a crown on the top of her head. Her fingers tenderly toyed with the ends of her hair, swaying the strands and curling them around her fingertip before allowing them to fall against her collarbones. He delicately traced her features with his eyes, catching the small gape in her glossy lips and the way her gaze darted across the shining pages of the menu in front of her.
"What's looking good, love?" Harry asked, referring to the dinner selection laid out in front of her.
She looked up at him with indecision painted over her features. "I'm not sure," she said, a pinch in her brow appearing as she kept her voice hush, "It's all really expensive, H."
Now it was his turn to furrow his brow, genuinely confused over why she would be worried about the price. "Don't worry about that, okay? I don't mind paying for whatever y'want. I jus' want y'to enjoy this."
Her eyes rounded out at the sound of his words, brows relaxing and going downturned as she gazed at him. "You're paying for me?"
"Of course, (Y/N). So don't worry about any of that, okay? Jus' pick whatever sounds good and I'll take care of the rest." Harry had to hold back a scoff at the idea that he would be anything less than a gentleman and make her pay for her own dinner. He had invited her in the first place, of course he was in charge of paying. He couldn't help but wonder how many other shitty, Andrew-level dates she had been on that had treated her so flagrantly.
She straightened up in her chair, leaning over the table while sliding her menu over to Harry's side. "Th-This sounds good, however you pronounce it," she mumbled, pointing at a pasta dish labeled with Verdi e Bianchi in a delicate curving font. She looked to him for approval, as if asking if her choice was up to par.
"Sounds really good," Harry smiled, hoping she would relax now that she had his approval, though she didn't need it in the first place. Harry pointed at his own choice for the night, (Y/N)'s eyes following his black painted nail as he stopped at Scampi Pomodora e Manta. "I think 'm gonna get that, what do you think?"
She nodded happily while reading the description, body language visibly relaxing. "That looks really good! You're gonna make me change my mind if I think about it too long," she laughed, much more settled than she had been since sitting down. Harry didn't realize how much he had missed her airy giggles and lax smiles until she had become stiff with her nerves.
Just then, Tara returned with the crystalline bottle of rosé in her hand and a bright smile on her face. "Sorry about that wait, are you ready to order?"
Harry nodded his head, answering with a polite yes, please for the both of them while (Y/N) sat back in her seat with her menu flat in front of her. Tara, of course, started with (Y/N) again. She flicked her gaze to the menu in front of her, skimming quickly in an effort to find the ravioli dish she had showed to Harry, before looking to him with a pleading look through her panicked gaze.
Harry straightened in his seat, grabbing his own copy of the menu. "She'll have the Verdi e Bianchi, please," he started, Tara quickly turning to face him before nodding her head and writing down the order, "And I'll have the Scampi Pomodora e Manta. Thank you."
He collected both of the menus and handed them off to Tara before she made her rounds attending to each of her tables. He shifted his gaze to (Y/N), finding her already looking at him with her lips set in a tender smile.
"That alright?" he asked, "Y'still wanted that?"
She quickly nodded her head. "Yeah, thank you for ordering for me. I just get nervous when it's my turn for some reason, especially since I didn't know how to say that one." She shot him a shy smile as she finished, her fingers absently trailing over a bundle of embroidered flowers along the neckline of her dress.
Harry did remember the few times they had all gone out for dinner as a group, (Y/N) always wanting to go last, assuming that by the time it time for her request, everyone was too busy interacting with one another to pay any attention. He hadn't thought it was because of something cute like that fact she didn't want everyone to hear in case she had messed up her order on accident.
Harry gently shook his head with his gaze on the table, a small smile on his face. "S'cute," he mumbled to himself, basically mouthing the words with how quiet he kept his voice.
"Hm?" (Y/N) hummed, perking up in her seat with her lashes fluttering as she gazed at him.
"Nothing, love," he brushed off, reaching for the wine Tara left chilling in an ice bucket stationed table side, "Want to try some? Supposed to have 'notes of peach', the bottle says." He nodded to the crystal in his hand as he carefully uncorked the pink tinged glass with the opener left beside the ice.
He saw the way she thought about it for a second, pursing her lips before her gaze landed on the bottle in his hand. She gently nodded her head, a smile blooming across her features as her eyes brightened and matched his own gaze.
He happily complied, pouring her glass first. He stopped just barely halfway filling the bowl, "That good?"
She nodded her head, the tendrils of her hair that escaped from her headband and framed her face bounced alone with her. Harry kept an eye on her as poured his own glass, observing the way she delicately pinched the stem of her cup. He matched her motions, much less hesitant than she, sipping the wine and letting the bubbled peach notes slide over his tongue. She brought the glass to her lips, the spotless crystalline of the bowl making it easy for Harry to catch the way the full of her mouth cushioned the edge of the glass as the pink wine waved towards her.
(Y/N) was quick to pull that glass from her lips after the first sip, her shoulders stiffening and face screwed up in distaste. "I thought you said it was supposed to taste like peach," she accused, her eyes wide under her cinched brow.
Harry's smile seemed to be permanent at this point as he gazed at her with what he was sure was adoring eyes. "Y'don't taste the peach? I thought it was pretty obvious," he teased, figuring she was a bigger fan of the mixed, fruity cocktails she usually drank and not the fermented wine he was sipping from.
"Its sour," she mumbled, dropping her gaze to look accusingly at the glass still held in her hand.
"I can order y'something else if y'want?" he offered, settling his glass down as he tried to recall what the raspberry and sage cocktail was nicknamed on the menu.
She was quick to shake her head in response, "No, no its okay! I just need to get used to it, that's all. I usually drink super cheap, sweet vodka in a can, obviously." She finished with a laugh, bringing the wine to her lips to try another sip despite the way she clenched her eyes shut at the taste.
She caught his gaze over the rim of her glass resting on the full of her bottom lip. He watched on as her lips curved into a sweet smile. He felt his own gaze drop as his eyes scanned over her face, taking each small detail under the dinner lighting.
"What?" she questioned, tilting her head to the side just a bit.
For a split second, Harry pictured himself reaching across the table and fitting his hand around the back of her neck and pulling (Y/N) in for a kiss. He wanted to know if her lips felt just as plush as they looked, what flavor her lip gloss held, and how tangled their lashes would be when he got close enough. He wanted to kiss her so bad, but thats not what friends do; especially not friends who are in different stages of their lives with years between.
"'S nothing," he mumbled, shaking his head as he straightened in his seat and adjusted his jacket over the broad of his shoulders.
Just then, Tara returned with a pair of pristine white plates in her hands and her perfect smile on her face. She started with (Y/N), setting the plate of her ravioli in front of her before reaching over and tending to Harry. She did the usual spiel of asking for cracked pepper or cheese grated atop their dishes. He declined the pepper, but (Y/N) shot him a look when the cheese was offered.
"She would like some, please," he smiled, nodding to (Y/N). She shot him a smile, clearly pleased with the way she picked up in her signal.
Tara quickly rounded the table, the fancy crank grater in her hand as she recited to (Y/N) to just say when! Harry kept his eyes glued on her face, waiting for the look she would surely give him when she'd had her fill.
"That's good, thank you," Harry interrupted when (Y/N) glanced at him, her smile turning grateful at his words.
Tara politely nodded her head, standing off to the side of the table. She gave a practiced speech, asking if there was anything else that the couple needed before leaving with a promise to check on them in a few moments.
Once alone, (Y/N) trailed her gaze from the food in front of her to the man sitting across from her. "Thank you again, Harry. This has been the best date I've ever been on already."
He couldn't help but feel breath of pride puff up his chest. He nonchalantly lifted his shoulder in a half shrug with a lopsided smile on his face. "Still have the rest of the night left, sweetheart, don't speak too soon."
She rolled her eyes with her softened smile stuck on her features. She looked down at the food in front of her, absently grabbing her fork and sectioning off a bite of ravioli before speaking, "It's gonna be amazing no matter what, because I'm with you."
She spoke so simply, as if that was the answer Harry should have been expecting from the start. But, that wasn't at all something he thought would ever leave her lips. He expected a sentiment like that to come from him and the endless pining he held over her, not for her to speak them so surely and cause his heart to race and drop at the same time. Race because it fulfilled a tiny part of him that allowed him to pretend this was a real date, and drop since the rest of him knew this whole night was nothing more than a friendly distraction and held nothing more than platonic affection.
Harry was sure his cheeks were flushed a cherried hue at her words, opting to distract himself by twirling his noodles around his fork and popping the bite into his mouth. They were quiet as they began to eat, Harry running her words through his mind over and over, trying his best to untwist them from his own slew of affectionate thoughts. Every time he would flick his gaze to her, he swore he saw her look away just before he could meet her eyes.
That is until he caught her. He found her gaze locked across the table—at his food.
Her own plate was halfway finished, the cheese from the raviolis oozing into the marinara sauce around them though she didn't pay it any attention. A small smile tugged at Harry lips, recalling the way she almost switched her order to match his, his brows raised as he looked to her.
"Wanna try some?" he offered, already twirling a bite of noodles around the prongs of the fork and picking up a small cut of shrimp.
She looked to him with a bashful look on her face, eyes rounded out and cheeks soft. "Can I?" she laughed, "Sorry, it just looks really good. You can try mine if you want!"
"'S okay, love, I don't mind." He offered her his fork, intending to pass the utensil off to her.
Instead, he watched as she leaned over the table, tossing her hair over her shoulders to keep it out of the way. The glow of the candlelit center piece wafted upward to dance over her features, bathing her skin in a soft warmth. She delicately placed her fingers on his wrist, just a brush of a touch against his arm as she took the bite directly off the fork with her lips around the utensil. She drew back as she chewed, her eyes going wide before she swallowed and looked to Harry with a beaming smile on her face.
"That's so good!" she bubbled, "We're gonna have to come back and I want to get that next time!"
She wanted there to be a next time.
A smile spread across his features at the idea. "Definitely."
—————
"What's mascara-pone?"
Harry smiled at (Y/N)'s pronunciation, sliding her the other spoon around the strawberry crostata he order for them to share for desert. "'S a kind of sweet cheese, like cream cheese but—in m'opinion—much better," Harry explained, cutting into the crust and taking the first bite of the tart.
"Oh," she answered simply, following suit and scooping up her own bite.
They were both leaning closer to one another over the table, meeting in the middle with their shared plate. The chatter of the other patrons had grown significantly quieter over the course of the meal, making it that much easier for Harry to lose himself in the idea that it was just the two of them out that night.
He had known he was fairly gone for (Y/N), but the whole night had forcibly pulled each pining thought and affectionate scenario from the corner he had shoved them. It felt like a movie to him, a cheesy romcom where he cast himself as the overworked business man and (Y/N) as the bright, kind and beautiful heroine that would color the movie and turn Harry into the lovestruck fool he knew he could play perfectly. He never wanted the night to end, even as he watched their dessert become whittled down to a single bite with a sliced strawberry dotted on the top.
"Y'have the last bite," Harry offered, using his spoon to push it towards (Y/N) who absently licked away a swipe of strawberry sauce on the full of her bottom lip.
"Are you sure?" she asked, eyes bright.
"Positive." Harry lent back in his chair, letting (Y/N) finish off the dessert as he plucked the leather book Tara had dropped at the table a few moments prior.
He slipped his card inside, and fixed his gaze back on (Y/N). Thanks to the distraction of the pout of (Y/N)'s lips, he was only absently aware of Tara ghosting by to pick up the bill with a promise to be right back!
"Is it stupid that I don't want to go home, yet?" (Y/N) questioned, sitting back in her own seat with her fingers absently tracing along the neckline of her dress.
"'S not stupid at all," he smile, shaking his head before becoming momentarily distracted as Tara returned with their processed bill and a wish for them to have a nice rest of their night. "'M not ready to end the night either, if 'm being honest," he continued, signing the receipt and adjusting his jacket before standing up, "Was thinking I could take y'to this sculpture park that's not too far a walk from here. 'S really pretty at night and I think you'd like it. Only if y'want to, though."
He rounded the table and pulled (Y/N)'s own chair out, offering her his hand after she adjusted her dress and grabbed the small yellow bag she had brought along. "I would love to," she agreed, wrapping her hand in his and shooting him a soft smile.
Harry led them out of the restaurant, politely waving and wishing a goodnight to the staff gathered at the hostess stand before holding the door open for (Y/N) to step into the star-filled night. His gaze kept flicking from their joined hands to the sidewalk in front of them, careful about the steps he took as he was aware of the heels on her feet. He felt a shudder go through his chest despite the warmth her hand provided in his, especially after she adjusted her hold to slip her fingers between his and hug their palms together.
She drew his attention to her face when she looked to him with the starlight reflected in her eyes and the moonglow dusting over her features. "Lead the way."
—————
"What's that supposed to be?"
(Y/N) posed the question as they stood in front of a sculpture that held neither rhyme or reason. The structure boasted swirling shapes and abstract forms somewhat resembling an elephant but if Harry tilted his head the other way, he could see what looked like it could be a constellation of stars.
"'M not sure," Harry mused, a pinch in his brow as he read the small plaque that titled the piece as Farmer's Market.
"At least the lights around it look pretty," (Y/N) added, her gaze tracing the rope of lights set up around the base of the sculpture.
Harry's lips quirked into a smile as he gazed down at her. "Yeah, very pretty."
"What do you think the next one's gonna be called?" (Y/N) asked, squeezing his hand with their fingers still laced together before moving towards the next sculpture.
"Mm," Harry hummed, swinging their joined hands between them, as he continued the game (Y/N) had started a couple pieces back. "Thinks its gonna have somethin' to do with bread."
"Bread?" (Y/N) repeated, looking up at him with a confused pinch in her brow and kink in her lips.
"Mhm," he confirmed, looking towards the sculpture that looked to have nothing to do with bread.
(Y/N) took an awkward step beside him, her shoulder bumping his arm as a hiss escaped her lips. "Sorry," she apologized, slowing beside him and letting go of his hand in favor of reaching toward her heel covered foot.
"What's wrong? Are y'okay?" His voice held a current of concern, unsure of where to start though he knew he wanted to help her.
"I'm okay, my feet just hurt from my shoes and I stepped wrong," she stood straight as she spoke, carefully balancing her weight off her seemingly injured foot. "I've only worn these a couple times, and I forget every time how much they hurt." She breathed a laugh after her words reaching for Harry's hand to resume their twined position.
Harry stood still in his spot, unwilling to go any farther if she was in pain. "Do y'want to sit down for a minute?" he offered, already tugging her towards a plain white bench across from the so-called bread sculpture.
"Could we?" She shot him a relieved look and followed after his pulls on delicate steps of her feet.
He muttered an of course! to her as he pulled off his blazer and folded it before laying it on the seat of the bench, protecting her white dress from anything lingering on the surface. She thanked him before sitting on he homemade cot, her shoulders dropping from relief.
"Sorry," Harry muttered, an apologetic smile on his face as he looked to her, "Didn't even think about that when I asked if we could walk around."
"It's okay," she beamed folding one of her legs under her before facing Harry, "I just need to sit down for a little, then I'll be okay."
"Do y'want my shoes? I don't think they'll fit well, but they'll work," he offered half joking. He knew if she had actually taken him up on it he would have no qualms about finishing the night barefoot.
She laughed at his offering, already brushing it off with a shake of her head. "I'll be okay, but thank you, H. You're very sweet."
A lopsided smile tugged at his features, his gaze falling to his fingers where he twisted his rings around the digits. A slew of tender reciprocations came to mind, compliments he would hope would heat her cheeks and cause her eyes to go soft like he's daydreamed about since Charlotte's party. But, he kept quiet, heady reminders of the fact this was just a night between friends and nothing more running through his head.
Beside him, he saw (Y/N) perk up with a petite gasp leaving her lips. A bright smile colored her features as she gazed at her phone in front of her. "The lights look so pretty like this! Would you want to take a picture with me?" She leaned closer to him, her own shoulder pressed against his, showing him her screen with the front camera on.
She was right, the stream of lights decorating each sculpture and strung through the trees cast a pearlescent glow upon their faces. Shades of pink and purple with pops of a baby blue shimmered across (Y/N)'s face, where his eyes were fixed on her phone screen.
Harry was already slinging his arm over her shoulder when he responded with a smile on his face. "'Course. Jus' promise to send it to me." He tugged her closer to him with his arm around her, their thighs touching as they drew nearer.
She bubbled off a vow to text the picture to him later before positioning her phone in front of them with the camera capturing their faces. (Y/N) posed with a soft smile on her features, resting her cheek on this shoulder. Harry hoped she couldn't hear the way his heart skipped a beat at the contact as she tapped the screen and caught the moment.
She was quick to pull up the photo, adjusting her posture and removing her cheek from his shoulder. Harry's arm reluctantly dropped from around her, her warmth missing from his skin. She smiled at the image on her phone before turning it towards him.
"What do you think?" she bubbled.
Harry barely passed a glance over himself, only aware of the softened gaze he held before he fixed his attention on (Y/N)'s half of the screen. The lighting glazed over her features to cast an angelic glow across the planes of her face, highlighting the points of her features in pasteled hues. He really hoped she would remember to send it to him.
"'S perfect" he breathed, gazing at her over the edge her phone.
She quickly nodded her head in agreement, the same bright smile stuck on her features. "Would it be okay if I posted this later? On my instagram? I just really like it."
A breath of satisfaction swept through his chest, almost giddy at the thought that she wanted to show off their date, even if it was only a friendly night together.
"Anything y'want."
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Harry ended the night pulling up to (Y/N)'s apartment building, reluctantly putting his car in park. He wasn't sure when he would see her again, and that introduced a cloudy feeling to his chest, muggy and thick. He dreaded the uncertainty of when he would be able to allow himself to be with her like this again, or if that time would come again at all.
(Y/N) broke him from his thoughts, placing a hand on his arm from the passenger seat. She delicately wrapped her fingers around his forearm, the skin bare from rolling the sleeves of his shirt up and forgoing his jacket that now laid in the backseat. "Thank you, again, for tonight. This is the best date I've ever been on, Harry."
She looked to him with a tender gaze, her irises melted into silken pools of starlight that he swore only existed in fairytales.
"Y'promise?" he joked, watching as a smile bloomed across her lips at his teasing.
"I promise," she affirmed, squeezing his arm one more time before reaching towards the doorhandle. "I'll see you again soon, right?"
Though Harry couldn't be sure when soon was, he knew he wouldn't be able to last without seeing her for very long. "Of course. Whenever y'need me, love, I'll be there."
She dropped her gaze to the small yellow bag that laid in her lap, her softened lips still quirked in that shy smile he'd had the privilege of detailing throughout the night. She met his own eyes after a moment, looking to him expectantly. "Walk me up?"
Harry didn't even hesitate before he agreed, already stepping out of the driver's side door. He rushed around the front of the car, just barely beating (Y/N) before she opened the door and stepped out.
"Gotta wait for me. Still on our date, right," he teasingly chastised, offering her his hand just as he had all night long. He wanted to get one last moment with her fingers laced between his, hoping the walk up to her apartment was long enough that he could memorize the feeling.
The ascent up the stairs was a moment of dejavu, Harry felt. The steps familiar in the sense that his heart was running a racetrack through his chest, but this time he was anchored to the moment with more than a bouquet of flowers as a buoy. (Y/N)'s hand in his and the matching pacing of her heel-clad steps kept him grounded in the fact he was still with her, no matter if the moments with that comfort was waning.
"I'll be looking forward to that invitation to go to that restaurant again," (Y/N) mused, leaning against her front door as Harry stopped in front of her.
He kept his hands deep in his pockets, refraining from wrapping them around her waist and keeping her warm against his chest. "Y'let me know when you're free, and I'll set up the reservations."
A beat of silence passed between them, as (Y/N) lowered her gaze towards the floor with her fingers nervously picking at the satin tie around her waist. "We're still on our date, right?"
A smile poked at Harry's cheeks, "Yeah, I'd sa—"
(Y/N) cut him off by taking a bold step in his direction and placing her hands on her chest. She leaned up as far as she could with the help of her heels before placing a sweet kiss on his cheek (more like his jaw, but she reached as far as she could). Harry was hyperaware of how close she was to his lips, the leftover gloss on her mouth leaving a slight pink kiss mark printed on his skin.
"Goodnight, Harry," she mumbled after pulling away, glancing at him from over her shoulder as she let herself in her apartment.
Harry was left with a whiff of her scent as she closed the door behind her, her kiss sitting on his cheek with a blushing warmth radiating from the spot. He hadn't even realized he had fluttered his eyes closed until he blinked them open to find himself still in the spot she left him in.
He practically floated down to his car, forgetting each step he took as soon as he made it. The drive home was a matching blur, each turn and brake tinted with rose petals. It wasn't until he had just got home and had made it to the bathroom to start getting ready for bed (and stare at the kiss mark against his skin), that he was pulled out of his stupor by the buzz of his phone.
He reached for the device after unbuttoning his shirt, his chest bare as he swiped on the notification. His screen brightened with a familiar photo posted on Instagram, the notification coming from the tag that hovering above a perfect ringlet in his hair.
The photo taken in the sculpture park now held a caption at the bottom.
best date with my best friend. thank u, h. 🌼
He was gonna need to set up that next reservation soon.
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