Layla
We were able to secure a table outside on the lively patio. Our detail oriented menus are placed as I search around, deciding to just order the seasonal new cocktail they're currently promoting. When I set my menu down, I have to practically pinch myself to prevent my knees from going weak. For the sight before me is one for the books. God he's so beautiful.
He's effortlessly handsome. A cool wind blows through his messy and combed curls as he reads through the many offerings carefully. The stubble around his mouth is ever growing, making him look a bit older than his actual age but in the best way. I try not to obsess over the possibility of what his mouth would feel like on my skin, especially with the hair around his pink heart shaped lips. His own skin is tan and bronzy from the sun, evident through his revealing shirt as other more tattoos are also seen inked on his chest and biceps. I don't even realize that I'm staring until the waiter arrives, practically causing me to jump in my seat out of fright. We both order the same thing, hoping to try something new as I fixate my attention on the ocean waves and breeze cooling me in the night.
"Did you have a busy day?" He asks, breaking the silence, his voice deep and smooth like butter.
"Yes, stuck in fittings. What about you?"
"Same here. My manager, Jeff, landed today. We grabbed some lunch, I wrote for a bit, talked to my mum."
"Your mother, is she doing okay?"
He smiles wholeheartedly, making it far too obvious that his relationship is much more evident and present than mine will sadly ever be. His entire face lights up at the mention of her, causing me to feel the same way at such a response. "She's good. Keeps herself busy with the garden, baking, and this evil new cat she just adopted."
"An evil cat?"
"Yes. It's a devilish little thing. I swear one of these days he's going to kill me."
"Why do you say that?" I ask, fighting a laugh.
"Because, he hisses and scratches me every time I try to fucking sit."
"You must have made it angry somehow."
"I did no such thing."
"Harry..."
He pauses momentarily, eventually admitting the truth with a shrug. "I may have locked it out of the house once."
"Harry!"
"What, I wanted to watch some telly on the sofa and the damn thing kept staring at me."
"Well, there you have it. What's his name?"
"Fred."
"Sounds fitting."
"My sister thought of it. Doesn't matter, I'll find a way to be rid of it soon."
"Harry, please. Leave the poor thing alone."
He chuckles. "I'm just kidding, relax there love."
I hum shyly at such a short nickname, hoping he can't tell of the obvious and burning flush that has found a way to creep on my face. I'm blushing because of him.
"What about you? Do you have any pets back at home?"
"No. It's not really practical with my busy schedule."
"I get that."
"I'm honestly, more of a dog person though."
" Smart woman!" He says boldly, causing a fit of carefree laughter to be shared in the air. "What kind?"
"Probably a husky. Doesn't really matter but, I've always found them fascinating."
"And where would you and this husky settle into? The big apple?"
"Don't know. Maybe a quaint little cottage by the countryside away from all the noise and commotion."
"Sounds nice," he says in agreement.
Suddenly, our colorful pink drinks do arrive, giving us something refreshing to sip on throughout the evening. We make comfortable conversation, enjoying one another's company as we talk about our likes, dislikes, and similar interests. Surprisingly, I realize just how alike we actually are. We have a great deal in common, sharing same interests in travel, cuisine, and exploring new worlds. He's wise beyond his years, cultured from the many places he's visited. He's filled with stories, sharing them after I plead and pout, hoping to hear more and more tales of his fascinating past.
"Absolute favorite place you've ever visited? Go, tell me," he says, cheerful as the taste of alcohol dances soothingly upon his lips.
"I can't pick just one. That's too difficult and not fair at all!"
"Hence the point of a brilliant question coming from a brilliant man. Tell me, Layla James. I'm waiting."
Every word and moment with him is like poetry. This evening should be written into a novel. He belongs in stories. He's a man that should always be remembered. "I've had some pretty great memories in Greece one summer. It's absolutely gorgeous and the foodie in me fell in love with their cuisine."
"When did you go?"
"About a year ago. It was out of the blue and a last minute trip that I decided to take for holiday."
"Serendipity at its finest."
"She's a wonder." He looks at me fondly, refreshing silence passing as we sip our cocktails, giving me the confidence to proceed forward. "What about you Harry Styles?"
"What about me, little darling?"
"Favorite place you've ever visited?"
"Oh, I can't answer that."
"Of course you can! I told you mine and now you tell me yours. Come on now."
"You'll laugh at me."
"I will not laugh at you. Unless it's a decent joke or you suddenly fall out of your chair, then I'm sorry. I can't control my actions."
He pretends to be baffled, placing his hand over his chest, scoffing in amusement. "You'd actually laugh at me if I fell out of my chair?"
"Of course I would."
"You naughty woman. How dare you?"
"Don't change the subject! Tell me, please?"
He's hesitant in the beginning, nerves evident as he shyly gives me a peak into his heart. He allows me in as he opens his vulnerability. "I'd think my favorite place that I've ever visited so far, would have to be Cannes."
My heart nearly sinks to the pit of my stomach as I attempt to process his genuine words, knowing that sitting here in this moment, he's absolutely correct. I feel the same way too. I nod in content, revealing my changed answer. "Cannes probably tops my list right now too."
Oh what a beautiful mess we've created. "What's it like, performing live in front of thousands of people?" He sighs, holding a slight and happy buzz from the two drinks we've shared as the hours have come and go.
"It's honestly, the best feeling in the world. You just feel, so alive. Unstoppable, even. When you see all these people just loving the music you've created, it's so nice to be a part of it and to share such an experience."
"Do you think you'll ever go back to the band?"
"Probably. I think it all just depends on how each of us feel at the time. We're just enjoying creating our own music, but I think eventually we'll go back together because for me, that was home. They're like a second family."
"That's a rare thing to find in this industry."
"Hmm. I'm very lucky for the life I live and the people I get to meet along the way."
A pause.
"Can I ask you something? And you really don't have to answer if you don't want to."
He nods without a second thought. "Sure."
"Do you ever wish to take it all back? I know you said before it costs you your heart in previous relationships."
"Um, I don't think I would. I've honestly, met some great people and I've shared some great times with them. But, like you said, I feel like if they truly loved me and I truly loved them, then somehow we would have made it work."
"Do you still keep in touch with them?"
"Sometimes. I wish for them to be happy. Just because it didn't work out between us doesn't mean I think less of them."
"That's awfully kind of you."
"It's the truth. If the person I've gotten to know is honest, then I wish them the best."
"Hmm."
"But enough about that, what about you? Any ex-boyfriends that I should keep my eye on?"
"Hardly doubt that."
"Why?"
"I've never truly dated anyone. I wouldn't know where to begin honestly. I'm always traveling, always working. There's little time to build an actual relationship."
"Doesn't that get a bit lonely at times?"
Silence.
"Always."
From across the table, he sports a saddened look, reaching for my hand in the process. I accept, allowing him to hold it gently and carefully as he traces circles onto my skin. It's then in which I hear the quiet clicks of photos being taken, causing me to pull my hand away, resting it back on my lap. He instantly notices, frowning at my response before raising a curious brow.
"It's the table behind you," I whisper.
He nods in acknowledgment. "I'll behave, I promise," he says, lighting up the mood with a wholesome wink.
Another drink is enjoyed, causing a sort of happiness and cheerfulness to overwhelm me as we share a basket of salty treats.
"Favorite color?" I ask him, witnessing the thoughts racing through his head in order to form a decent answer.
"Probably, yellow," he says.
"Why yellow?"
"It's silly, but it just makes me feel positive and energetic. It's a sort of freshness that I crave in life. It's the color of the sun." Why does every word out of his mouth sound so perfect? "What about you?"
"I think purple. There are just so many shades and they all represent a sense of tranquility. Purple to me is comforting, feels like home."
"Favorite meal?" He asks.
"Pizza, hands down."
"Pizza?"
"It's delicious!"
"Occasionally, but as your favorite?"
"Have you ever tried New York style pizza?"
"No."
"Then don't hate."
"Perhaps one day, we can try it together," he softly says.
"I'd like that," I say.
"Me too."
His eyes are once more far too tempting as they look into my own. I want truly nothing more than to reach for his hand from across the table, but that isn't a viable option nor is it proper. Besides, we're just friends. Then why am I feeling this way about a friend? What the actual hell am I doing?
"First kiss?" I question, witnessing the bashful smile that's created onto his face, putting all the luxurious pieces in any art gallery across the country to shame.
"Uh, I think I was about twelve and to be fair, I had absolutely no idea what I was doing. I just stood there and kind of placed my mouth on hers. She said I tasted like pretzels."
"That's awful!"
"Hey, hey. That was my first time. I've gotten a lot better now."
"Really?"
He gives me a charming smirk, forcing my legs to cross tightly as a spark flashes through my veins. Stop this Layla, you can't feel this way. Green eyes darken slightly as he nods in return. "Yeah, I think so."
"Okay, favorite midnight snack?" I ask, hoping to be rid of the undeniable chemistry lingering before us.
"Hmm. Ice cream?"
"Why?"
"Why not?"
"It's not comforting at all."
"Alright, what about you, little darling?"
"Spicy macaroni and cheese, all the way."
"But that takes effort and too much time."
"But it's delicious. Trust me."
"I guess."
"You're missing out. Especially with the spices I add, it's so good. You have to try it one day."
His lips curve into a taunting and clever longing at my remark, causing the passionate desire I secretly had for him to heighten more with each passing minute. "Perhaps, one day."
"So, what do you do on your time off? Any tips to calm a constant mind?"
"I'm a big reader," he says slowly. "I've learned that's really a healthy distraction. Don't know, I like the simple things. Read a good book, write a love song, watch a comedy. You?"
"Reading is a nice outlet for me too. I'm more of a writer though, but nothing crazy. Cooking is also one of my personal favorites, especially on a rainy day with a warm cup of coffee. Throw in some tunes. Absolute heaven."
"Sounds like a dream," he genuinely replies, hand wandering back to my own. He rests it over mine, causing fireworks to appear within the honest and vibrant sky. Why does he make me feel this way? Why do I enjoy it so dearly?
When our check arrives, I vouch to reach for it, cursing him as he's far too fast and witty for my likes. For the bill is paid and not another word of resistance is wanted from my end.
"What kind of a gentleman would I be if I let you pay?" He asks, raising a sincere brow.
"You could have at least allowed me to split the cost."
"Nonsense."
"Harry."
"No."
With an amused grin, we proceed to walk back inside the hotel. For the hour is far past midnight and a storm is brewing nearby as a sudden sound of thunder emerges from the clouds. We bid our goodbyes to those working the lobby as the quaint sound of classical music fills the scene. We await the arrival of the elevator in silence as I hold back a yawn while Harry hums happily to himself. It's then in which I realize how tall he actually stands when I'm next to him. I'm barely up to his shoulders, making me feel even smaller in the midst of all this.
When the elevator doors open, he allows me to walk in first before he presses the button to the penthouse floor. The elevator floor is made of glass, allowing us to see everything below us as we travel all the way up. And once we arrive, he proceeds to walk me up to my room. I stand there, holding my purse to my side, very aware of how near and dear he is to me. He smells absolutely delicious, teasing me far too greatly as his mesmerizing green eyes fixate on me and me alone.
"I had a great time tonight," he whispers kindly. I'm in so much trouble, those eyes are far too tempting right now.
"Me too."
"I'll have to thank the person who stole my luggage."
"You never received it?"
He shakes his head. "Still in transit, whatever the hell that means."
"Hmm."
He takes another step forward, causing us both to walk on dangerous territory. I'm drawn in completely, wanting him to make the next move, practically wishing to feel his lips on my own. But as he grants me one last smile for the night, I know that's not a feasible option. For he takes a step back, breaking whatever hopes I had created in my mind.
"Good night Layla," he says to me.
"Good night." I reply, watching as he begins to walk away. I reach for the key to open my private suite, pausing as I realize just how foolish I'm being once again. "Harry," I state.
He stops in his tracks, turning with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his trousers, concerned for my wellbeing as he immediately approaches me. "Yes? Are you alright?"
"Yes, it's just... Harry, will you please kiss me? Before I lose my actual mind."
He's taken completely by surprise, hesitant as his mouth slightly opens to come up with a worthy and reasonable excuse. But as his lustful eyes focus their attention on my desperately hungry lips, it doesn't take much convincing afterwards. For he's as close as can be, breathing me in, hearts racing as he ever so softly cups my face with both hands.
"Oh god, I thought you'd never ask," he whispers, ending such tremendous torment before finally sealing our distance with a passionate and memorable kiss.
"Be so sweet if things just stayed the same, never going back now..."
What do you think will happen next? (Insert smile here)
Thoughts on their relationship so far?
Who else got soft for their little date? They're just friends though, right?
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Until next time, 💋