Risy Behavior


4. Chapter 4

I took in my appearance, shaking my head at the outfit Ashley picked out for me. She was absolutely ecstatic when Harry dropped me off at the front door, her performance should have earned a Grammy award. She had opened the door for me but she stood frozen as she laid eyes on Harry. Her mouth hung slightly open and it was a sight to see. Never in my life had I thought getting Harry Styles at our front door would leave her speechless, this was just classic. Witty and stable minded Ashley had left and a once-in-a-lifetime-speechless Ashley remained.

He left a few moments later though, waving good bye to me, confirming out date for the next evening and winking goodbye to Ashley. You could hear her squeal from a mile away once Harry was down the stairs and to say Ashley was excited seemed to be an understatement.

I was bombarded with questions, most of them envolving how I ended up with Harry Styles at our front door but others just asking if Harry had been a good kisser. I answered all of them with as much chivalry as I could muster but it was really getting to funny at her hysteria over the situation.

We had basked in Ben & Jerry’s as well as pizza later beige Ashley made it her task to make me look ‘Date Worthy’. And so here we were, contemplating over the dress she had picked out for me and the makeup and hairdo she gave me.

“I look like a bimbo,” I exclaim, posing in the pink floral dress she picked out for me. I couldn’t help but shudder at my reflection, not liking my body exposed in such a way. As Ashley would say, ‘You’re to modest for your own good, live a little, Emma.’

“You do not look like a bimbo! You do look weird though,” Ashley comments, poking at the brown belt over my stomach. I feel a sudden rush of exasperation a I turn around to face her.

“What do you mean I look weird,” I ask, moving away for Ashley to observe me better. I don’t think I ever tried so hard to look nice since my sister’s wedding and this was just absurd! Did I really look that bad?

“YOU look weird as in I have never ever seen you in a skirt, never mind a freaking dress! You look fantastic though, you should show your curves more often,” Ashley says, smiling sweetly at me. I rolled my eyes at this but I knew she was right. I didn’t want to scare Harry away by wearing sweats and jeans all the time, that wasn’t very attractive at all.

Ding, ding.

I locked eyes with Ashley as I begged her with my eyes to go and get the door. She looked petrified, but not as petrified as I felt. She was meeting her long time idol, who was going to be entering our humble abode where as I was going out with her idol, therefore me being the more nervous.

“If I fall and break something in front of him and die of embarrassment, I’m coming to haunt the both of you when you marry and have babies,” Ashley hissed, jogging out of the room to get the door.

I smirk at her comment but my smirk falls as I look back at my reflection. I honestly don’t see me but another girl with the same color hair and skin tone. I look like a model rather than the boring and dull person people normally see. I have no idea what Harry thought of me in the first place but I am eternally grateful he took the fancy he did in me.

“Emma,” I hear behind me and I turn just in time to see Harry open my door slowly, looking to find me beside the full length mirror. I watch as his eyes roam my form and I breath out a deep sigh of relief as he smiles.

“You look beautiful,” he says, leaning against my doorframe. As you can tell me brain isn’t working clearly with all this babbling but I take in his clothing, a pair of chinos with a multicolored plaid dress shirt. I smile shyly and nod, but something else catches my attention.

Ashley was behind Harry, waving her arms around frantically and I can see she is thoroughly freaking out. I grin happily at this and walk toward the door, grabbing my purse and phone.

“Shall we,” he asks, putting out an arm for me to take. I shake my head at this politeness, never before having being treated like this. I felt like someone special, and Harry did have that charm with women. Harry turned to look at Ashley who was suddenly frozen in mid arm flaring and she slowly moved her arms to her chest.

“Nice meeting you Harry,” Ashley said, and I could tell that she was trying so very hard to act cool.

“Nice to meet you too, Ashley,” Harry replied, giving her a wink before we made it out the door. Poor Ashley, she must be so embarrassed.

The walk to his car was a quick one and I was soon seated in the passenger seat as Harry maneuvered out

My nerves were beginning to finally come down as we reached the restaurant. It was a very fancy Italian restaurant, one I never would have thought I would go to in the near future. My nerves shot up as Harry stopped the car, getting out and smiling at me as he came around to my side.

“Have I told you that you look gorgeous,” Harry asks, a cocky smile appearing on his face. I smile softly at this a blush etching on to my face.

“You may have mentioned it once or twice,” I reply, taking his arm as we head to the front of the restaurant. Harry tells the hostess his last name but I can tell she is too busy ogling him to notice anything he was saying. I stifle a laugh as Harry pays little attention to this and repeats his statement, the hostess looking flustered as she looks into reservations list.

As the hostess fumbles through the list I take a minute to admire the restaurant and the people inside it. It is alive with many wealthy people and some very happy couples and the buzz of the talking in it is astounding. I look around at the colors, there mostly being red and white everywhere with polished wood peeking out from places.

There was a bar at the far end of it and the open yet secluded kitchen area. You can see the chief’s making the food but it’s not accessible to the customers. The tables range from two seat to six and there are booths scattered on the parallel walls. The table clothes are red and white, depending on what table you’re at and it was just too grand for me to be there. The hostess brings me out of my thoughts and I look at Harry who is staring at me, his face blank yet there is a ghost of a smile and I blush, slightly embarrassed of being watched.

“Yes, Mr. Styles, your just on time,” the hostess babbles, her voice sounding shaky as she points out a waiter to take us to our table.

I can feel my blush deepen as Harry turns to wink at me, his sea green eyes giving my heart rate a race it’ll never forget. He takes my hand softly, something so innocent and pure it takes me off guard. I meet his eyes again and the hard shell that is normally standing at bay seems to fall slowly.

“Right this way Mr. Styles,” our waiter says, interrupting our small little moment.

Harry escorts me to our table as we follow our waiter, a middle aged man with a very fake Italian accent. My mind goes wild with the profile it was giving me for him and I pity him over some of the things it analyzes about him. I slide into the booth/table and smile at how intimate and secret the table feels to the other open tables around us.

“Here are your menu’s, would you like any refreshments, ma’am,” he asks, turning to me with a smile. I smile back softly and know my drink choice already.

“A soda, Coke or pepsi please,” I reply, my eyes meeting Harry’s amused ones. I arch my brow at him in curiosity to know what he finds so amusing.

“Very good ma’am, and you sir,” the waiter asks, his eyes flickering tiredly towards Harry.

“How about a bottle of white wine,” Harry asks, his eye raising in question to me. Wine? I never really had a proper alcoholic beverage since senior year, when I consumed so much it, my headache lasting over a good 12 hour period. I internally shake my head but I make no objections to the waiter as he smiles again before retreating to the beverage center.

“So, Emma, tell me about your profile of our waiter,” Harry says, eyeing his menu with a ghost of a smile on his face. Horror over takes my composure as I stare at him, clearly shocked. He looks up finally, after a moment of my silence. He sees my look of guilt and he chuckles lightly.

I look away embarrassed but maybe this is something he finds interesting about me, my shameless profiling of everyone in public and my own little story made up of their life.

“How do you know that I was profiling,” I ask, smiling sweetly at him, re gaining my composure. I really needed cheeky and flirty Emma out now, this is just feels like another universe right now. I was never one to even attempt to flirt but it seemed like the proper time to try.

His smirk became more prominent as he stared at me as if studying my face.

“Your eyes sweep over the person in question and you have a concentrated look to your features when you analyze them,” Harry replies, surprising me. I bit my lip at this became I had no idea he had been looking at me while I had done this. I never had anyone try an analyze me before but Harry seemed to be trying.

“So about your profile of our waiter,” Harry says, interrupting my train of thought. His voice sends me off into a nerve spiraling emotion that it takes me a few moments to gather what he was saying.

Come on Emma, pull it together.

I sigh as I compile my profile again, trying to gyre my wits. I smirk slightly at his curious features which us probably the most handsome look on him yet.

“And if I don’t tell you,” I wager, looking pointedly at him. A mischievous look enters his gaze and he smiles provocatively before I feel a presence near my thigh.

“Well, then it would be a loss of knowledge would it not,” Harry replies. And then I feel it, his hand resting lightly over the gem of my dress and a little of my skin. I flinch at his touch but a warm sensation hitches through my body and I smile nervously at him.

“It would, but in any case I will tell you. His name is Henry and he is married. He is about 42 or 43 and isn’t a happily married man. Maybe two or three kids at best and he hates his job. Might’ve lost his real job and is now getting by in this restaurant. He isn’t much of a shopper and by the look of his stature I can say he is either depressed by a loss in his family or his wife is currently cheating on him,” I reply, a sad look over coming Harry’s features as I mention the word cheating.

“That’s a sad profile,” Harry says, his thumb rubbing circles on my thigh. My breathing becomes shallow and I smile sadly at him.

“It’s the only one I have,” I reply, trying my hardest to ignore his hand. I turn to my menu but gasp as his hand creeps higher up my thigh. Frisky Harry is present now and I look up through my lashes to see a small smirk playing on his face as he also peers down at his menu.

“May I take your orders now,” our waiter, Henry, comes by again, his fake smile plastered once again on his face. He places our drinks in front of us, leaving the wine bottle to the side in a ice box. This is definitely to fancy for me and I feel to awkward in a place like this. I look at Harry as he nods, handing Henry his menu, his hand disappearing from my thigh. I visibly relax at this but the warmth of his hand leaves me to shiver slightly at the loss of it.

“I have no idea what to eat,” I say, my eyebrows knitted in concentration as I stare down again at my menu. Harry’s hand once again makes an appearance but this time he moves it up and down my thigh provocatively. I sip in my air and look up at him, his eyes smoldering. He is really so very attractive right now it hurts.

“Do you trust me, Emma,” he asks, and I can tell this has a double meaning to it.

“Yes,” I say, my voice just below a whisper. His hand disappears again and I watch as he looks up at Henry, telling him our orders.

“Very good sir,” Henry says and retreats again to give the chief our meals.

“You trust me,” Harry asks again, smiling softly with his eyes taking an evil glint to them.

“Yes,” I whisper, suddenly feeling over heated by his intense stare. I choose that time to take a sip on my wine and I soon regret it.

“Good,” he says and his hand makes a third trip to my thigh but this time it doesn’t stay on top of the material of my dress but moves beneath it. I nearly choke on the wine as his skin comes in contact with mine and my eyes bulge slightly from my eyes.

“Your still so innocent, this is going to be fun,” Harry says huskily, his other hand taking hold of his wine as he tips it towards me and drinks it gingerly. My mind goes wild as it takes in his behavior again. This is just so odd for Harry since I met him on such a hard surface and well now he seems at ease, it’s a weird but nice and comfortable all at once.

“Innocent is an overused word and not what I am,” I said, winking at him before turning to face Henry as he brought our meal.

We talked about lots of things but it was mostly me talking. I told him about my family and friends back home and about Ashley and school. Harry talked about his career but that was it, he didn’t give me details on his past other than his family members’ names and what they do for a living.

Once our course was over Harry’s face lit up suddenly and he called Henry back to get our plates.

“I’ll pay now please,” Harry said, his eyes sparkling as if he had found a buried treasure. Henry nodded and brought our billing paper, taking Harry’s credit card with him.

“What is it,” I ask, smiling involuntarily. If Harry was happy about whatever the hell was about to happen maybe I should perk up to.

“You’ll see. Surprises await us,” Harry said, standing up as Henry returned with his credit card. I stood up as well and Harry grabbed my hand, before bolting out the door, leaving astonished faces as we passed. I was glad to have worn flats.

“We’re going clubbing,” Harry exclaimed as we got to his car. I stood frozen, watching him jump into the driver’s seat, opening the door for. Fucking hell, I hate dancing, but maybe dancing with someone as hot as Harry will do me some good.

Join MovellasFind out what all the buzz is about. Join now to start sharing your creativity and passion
Loading ...