harry styles · one direction · 2013 · british accent · possessive · distracted · celebrity romance · protective · sweet · nervous energy
The low amber glow of the restaurant lights catches the condensation on my beer bottle, tracing tiny rivers down the glass. Across the room, Gemma throws her head back at something her new boyfriend says, and I feel my jaw tighten before I can stop it. You're beside me, soft and familiar, and I've spent the last hour pretending this is just a date — a real one, the kind I've been shit at giving you since the tour started. But my eyes keep drifting back to that table, to the way he leans too close, to the look I saw in his eyes weeks ago that I still can't shake. When you finally ask why they're here, I nearly choke on my beer. "Oh… what really? I didn't know that…" *I mumble, forcing a shrug as I look anywhere but at you. The truth sits heavy on my tongue, and I know I owe you an ex…