1D Oneshots

I know there's heaps of these floating around but I wanted to have a place to put all the one-shots and ideas I'm not using elsewhere. I will occasionally be taking submissions- 4 or 5 at a time- so keep checking this description to see if they're open or closed. SUBMISSIONS ARE CLOSED! Sorry guys, I have a few on the backburner & life will be busy the next couple weeks, I just won't have time.


6. First Date - Harry

First Date


As I walked through the crowd of photographers at the door, I kept my head down to avoid the flashes blinding me. They no longer bothered me as much as they used to; as the best friend of one of the most famous lads in Britain, I’d been hounded by the press since the day One Direction’s career really started taking off. People were suddenly interested in where the boys had come from, who they’d been before the X-Factor, and as Harry Styles’ best mate, I was in a position of telling them.

Oh, the number of his secrets I held but would never tell… if any one of these camera-wielding men knew just how well I knew Haz, they’d be even more determined to cajole me into letting something slip.

As soon as I entered the restaurant, I breathed a sigh of relief and let my shoulders sag, the tension melting away. The windows were tinted dark enough for us to see out, but they couldn’t see in, and photography wasn’t permitted inside this building. A fact that I had, on many occasions, been very pleased about. The maître spotted me as I shuffled out of my coat, the interior temperature of the building almost three times what it was outside.

This was not an easy place to get reservations to, but when you’re one fifth of One Direction, things like that came easy, I guess. Harry had texted me that morning asking if I’d like to meet for dinner and I- never one to pass up the chance to hang out with the boys- had said yes in a heartbeat then promptly fallen to pieces over what to wear and how to do my hair.

Thank God for little sisters. Mine was only seventeen but had aspirations of being a celebrity stylist and often helped me tame my wild blonde hair, and she always knew how much make-up to use and what matched with what. If she kept on dressing me like this, I’d hire her myself. As it was, she’d given me a knee-length, navy dress with a black lace train and a silver belt, silver heels and a navy clutch bag. My dark blue hair with dip-dyed blonde ends had been pulled back into a twisty little ‘do, which left my eyes clear.

“Mr Styles is waiting for you,” the concierge greeted me with a wide smile. I’d seen him before, on the last few times we’d all dined here. He was nice enough and with a sweeping arm gesture, beckoned me through another set of double-doors to the actual dining room, completely secluded and private but for our fellow diners. Most people here were also here to avoid being stared at. I followed the concierge through the dining tables, scanning the larger tables to see if I could spot our group first…

My confusion, you see, was completely founded as I found myself standing before a table for two, with a brown-haired, green eyed boy in a fitted tux smiling at me sheepishly. Harry stood as the concierge pulled out my chair and pushed it in behind me as I sat. “Hi, English,” Harry smiled, his fingers playing with the fork on the crisp white tablecloth.

“Hello, Haz,” I replied, peering around in confusion. “The others aren’t joining us?” I asked, though that was pretty obvious.

Harry flinched and looked down at his lap, mumbling something I didn’t quite catch before meeting my puzzled gaze and keeping up a slightly strained smile. “Liam and Danielle had plans… Zayn’s with Perrie… and Niall and Louis, ah … they- they had a… thing… and… stuff…”

“Alright,” I said soothingly, before he had a heart attack trying to explain himself. Harry seemed to relax as our waiter appeared and he ordered for both of us, knowing my tastes as well as he knew his own. However, I chose the wine- Harry was hopeless with that kind of thing and usually just asked for water. Within the first five minutes of our conversation, my suspicions were aroused but I kept them to myself. Harry appeared a little on edge all night and I had to admit that as the food disappeared from our plates and the wine gave me a tiny, warm buzz, my nerves increased.

Something about this whole situation didn’t feel like a friendly dinner. Harry in his tux, the fact that we were in a restaurant we usually only visited for special occasions, the others not being there, the table in a secluded corner, the candle flickering in the middle of it. But that fraction of tension between us didn’t interfere with our conversation; Harry and I weren’t naturally quiet people, and we’d been best friends for long enough to not let anything stand in the way of that.

I sat back with a sigh, feeling full and content with an empty plate before me. Harry tented his fingers under his chin, studying me across the table. His eyes shone and his smile faded, unfitting shyness suddenly taking him over. That unsettled me more than anything; a shy Harry was not something I was used to, and the sight of his anxious expression made me want to do anything to ease his stress.

“Harry,” I said quietly, playing with the edge of the table cloth. “Was this… meant to be a date?”

He deflated, his shoulders slumping and his breath escaping him in a long sigh. He couldn’t meet my gaze as he nodded tightly. “It doesn’t have to be… we can just forget it,” he said, a note of bitterness in his tone I couldn’t miss if I wanted to.

“No! No,” I smiled at him, my heart racing in my chest. I couldn’t believe Harry was taking me on a date, this was beyond my wildest dreams. “I… I’d like this to be… a date…” I trailed off, nervously ripping the napkin in my lap into tiny squares. Harry’ head shot up and he grinned broadly at me, throwing his hand up for the cheque.

“Then let’s make it special,” he said eagerly, paying for the meal and leaving a generous tip for the waiter. Before I could say a word, he pulled me up and out of my seat and we were running out the door, our hands linking us together. There was a small crowd of photographers and they shouted questions at us, but we just kept walking until we reached his car.

As he drove, a comfortable silence encased us, the radio playing softly in the background. It took just half an hour for me to realise where we were going; the Eye. “Haz?” I asked, eyebrow raised, as he found us a park and turned around to grab a blanket and a thermos of tea. “Were you expecting me to say yes?” I asked, whacking his arm when he just shrugged and grinned at me.

“I was hoping you would, English,z” he replied, catching my hand and holding it fast. “If you’d said no… I would’ve come anyway and drowned my sorrows.”

“With tea?” I asked somewhat sceptically. Harry tossed his head to shake his hair out of his gorgeous eyes, his hand running up my arm to my shoulder and rubbing light circles on the exposed skin of my neck. I felt goose bumps and sparks race from his touch straight to my heart, making it race against my ribcage so loudly I swore he’d be able to hear it.

“Remember when we were fourteen,” Harry murmured, eyes burning into mine. “And you said your perfect date would be dinner, then to go somewhere above the world and watch the city?” he pointed out towards the Eye, which towered above us now. I nodded, a lump in my throat as tears pushed at my eyes. He remembered that? So many years and conversations had passed since and he still remembered? It was by far the sweetest thing any man had done for me, ever.

“You did this… for me?” I managed to whisper, meeting his gaze and slowly reaching to stroke his cheek. Harry’ eyes closed briefly and he took a deep breath, nodding.

“I didn’t know if you’d come if… if you knew it’d be just us. I know- you’ve said you didn’t want to get involved with friends, but… I just… I had to try.”

I leaned across the middle of the car, softly pressing my lips against his. I may have said I wouldn’t get involved with friends, but that didn’t mean I’d never change my mind. If I was completely honest with myself, I’d always thought of Harry in that way but had been nervous about taking things further. The last couple of weeks, when I’d finally taken the plunge and moved closer to him in London, had been anything but dull and whatever feelings I had for Harry had just grew and grew to the point where I’d considered snogging him breathless more than once. A day.

When we pulled apart, Harry was beaming at me, pure joy and love in his eyes as he pulled me in for another, before resting his forehead against mine. One hand rested on the back of my neck and played with the hairs on my nape, the other still holding my hand tightly in his grip. “English,” Harry whispered, lips just a hairs’ breadth from mine. “Will you ride the Eye with me… and spend your life with me… as my girlfriend?”

“Of course I will, Haz…” I could have powered half of London with the force of my smile alone.

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