a/n : thank you all so much for 8k on this story !! even if it may be a "small" milestone , it truly means so much !!
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There was a minor skip in my step as I made my way downstairs to meet Harry outside the hotel. Even though I knew he wasn't working, it was a bit of a weird occurrence to not be greeted by Noah as I exited the hotel. I had gotten so used to it now that it just seemed unusual.
Obviously, I didn't dress up as I did with my date with Noah. There was no point to, really. Harry and I were just going for coffee. As friends. He may be a celebrity and all, but I felt no need whatsoever to dress to impress him. If Harry doesn't want to be friends with me based on my personality, then I don't want his friendship.
I push open the door, and to my surprise, there Harry was, watching cars drive by to pass the time while he waited for me. He was dressed in a black knit sweater with brown trousers and his black Old Skool Vans. Simple; but he made it look luxurious.
As he heard the door open from my arrival, he turns around to face me. A smile spans his lips once he sees me approaching him. Once he's turned around fully, I see a bouquet of lilies he's gripping in his right hand.
"Hey," he breathes out as his smile now takes over his entire face.
"Hey," I say back, smiling as well but not quite as brightly.
"I, uh...I got you these," Harry says shyly, holding the bouquet of flowers out towards me. I gladly took them and muttered an appreciative thank you. Harry extended his elbow out, gesturing for me to weave my arm around his.
I slipped my arm through the open space between his side and his elbow and we began to walk.
"So where are we going?" I ask finally as we unintentionally step in unison.
"There's a really great café just up here," he explains. "It's called Anna's. I go there all the time. One of my all-time favorites."
"Oh, I've been there I few times," I tell him coincidentally. "It's very cozy and chill."
"That's what I like so much about it," he admits. "I never run into paparazzi there. Fans rarely come up to me. It's not very popular, I usually only see old couples there, and they probably have been going there since they were young, since it's an old family business. The café was bought back in the early '50s and has been family-owned since."
"You sure know a lot about it for it or being not very popular." I snort as I laugh. Not one of my best features, but it's an uncontrollable one. It's something I've done since I was little and would get in trouble for doing. My mom told me I sounded like a "little piggy" and that "that kind of laugh was unladylike" and I needed to "work on it." I tried; and failed obviously.
"I do my research." He winks.
We shared useless information for a few more minutes until we arrived at Anna's Café. I reached for the door handle and he rushed past me, being sure he opened the door for me.
"Thank you," I say, smiling simply as I walk past him through the open door.
The café seemed emptier than normal, which I found strange, considering it was like 4:15 on a Friday afternoon. People would usually be off around this time or would be getting off soon. I personally would want to come here after work if I was a local. They don't have many quaint cafés like this one in Denver.
"What are you going to order?" Harry asks after closing the door and joining me where I now stood behind an elderly man in line.
"Probably just a coffee." I shrug, not wanting much.
"You sure you're not hungry?"
"I mean, I could eat," I admit, looking over the menu. A specific item on the list catches my attention. "Maybe I'll get a croissant."
"Oui, un croissant sonne bien," he speaks in French.
"You speak french?" I ask, impressed.
His cheeks flushed and he scratched the back of his neck as he looked down at the ground sheepishly.
"My ex-girlfriend was actually fluent," he says. "She taught me a little bit."
Shit.
"Oh, sorry to bring it up," I apologize, my face twisting in a cringe as I curse myself mentally for asking.
"No it's okay," he states as the old man in front of us moves out of the way and we walk forward, "it was a long time ago anyway, I'm over it now."
"Hi, what can I get for you?" The barista asks from behind the counter.
"Um, can I just get a croissant and a coffee? Black," I request and she nods happily.
"And for you, Harry?" She asks, taking me by surprise. I swear my eyes became the size of saucers when she said his name.
"I'll just have my usual," he says simply. The barista nods knowingly.
"Will that be all?"
"Yes," Harry answers for me, already holding his card between his fingers. "To stay also."
"Alright, that'll be £7.76," she tells Harry and he quickly inserts his card into the card reader.
"You don't have to pay," I tell him, reaching into my purse. He places his hand on my arm, stopping my actions.
"It's alright, love," he chuckles, "it's nothing."
"Okay," I mumble, looking down.
"And a name?" The barista asks finally, switching her glance between Harry and me.
"Harry," he says before I can answer.
The nice young woman nods and Harry places his hand on the small of my back, leading me to a booth in the back corner of the café. He waits patiently for me to sit down before taking a seat himself, which I found to be a really sweet gesture. I set the bouquet of lilies down gently in the space next to me, as Harry was seated across from me. Once he's comfortable in his seat, he clears his throat, bringing his ringed hand up in a fist against his mouth.
"So I've been meaning to ask you," he starts, immediately making me nervous, "what's your favorite song off the album?"
"Oh," I raise my eyebrows in surprise at the simplicity of his question, then furrow them in thought, looking down at the table. "I don't think I have a favorite. They're all incredible." I glance up to see him grinning wildly at my complement. "But I really like Golden, Cherry, and Falling. Also She and Fine Line."
"Some of my personal favorites." He nods approvingly.
"The whole album is amazing though," I made sure to add.
"Thank you." He smiles from ear to ear. "That means a lot."
"Why do you ask?" I say curiously.
"Oh, I was just wondering." He shrugs it off. "The album isn't new to me and I've heard it like a million times now, so I just wanted to see what someone who has just heard it for the first time thinks."
"I see." I nod.
Just as we both stopped talking, the barista was standing at the edge of the counter.
"Coffee, croissant, and..." she glances down at the ticket she was holding, "chai latte for Harry?"
My breathing practically stopped as my eyes widened at what the barista had just said.
"Oh, that's us," Harry says, surprise in his voice. "Want me to go pick that up?"
"Uh, yeah sure," I say quickly, shaking my thought-crowded head.
Harry stands up and makes his way over to the counter where he skilfully picks up and carries our beverages and my croissant over to the booth. He sets them down near the edge.
"You know," he begins, sitting down across from me and sliding his chai latte in front of him, "I used to work in a bakery."
I chuckle, even though it was a commonly known fact and something I've known since I was 15. "Really?"
"Yeah," he nods, twirling his finger around the rim of the cup in his hand, "So you'll have to tell me if that croissant is any good."
"Well here," I say, standing up and grabbing a knife from a nearby stand. I sit back down at the table and begin to cut the croissant in half. "See for yourself."
"No, you don't have to..." he trails off once I slid his half toward him.
"Go ahead," I nod my head toward the croissant, gesturing for him to try it. He hesitantly picks it up and takes a small bite out of the corner of it. His eyes widen and his eyebrows raise, a look of a surprise taking over his features.
"Holy shit," he mumbles with his cheek full.
"Good?" I ask, giggling.
"Very," he confirms.
"Well, I'm glad." I laugh, taking a bit out of my own half of the croissant.
He was right. It was very good.
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a/n : here's what Harry is wearing :) :