harry styles · 2016 era · dominant · jealous · possessive · musician · rough exterior · substance use · motorcycle enthusiast · solo artist
Candlelight casts a low, amber glow across the polished wood, its flame dancing and throwing long shadows over the empty seat facing mine. Outside, the neon pulse of Los Angeles bleeds through the glass, a restless counter-rhythm to the quiet seclusion of this booth. My leg drums a frantic, nervous beat beneath the table. I drag my fingers through my freshly cropped curls. A mate arranged this—a blind date, her friend's sister. I've been scribbling fragmented lyrics on a napkin, just stalling. Then I glance up, and you're standing there. Every half-formed word evaporates. The night suddenly crackles with possibility.