red herring [h.s.]

56. (*)

Stella.

I sat opposite Harry in a Mexican place in the centre of DC. Sitting down on the chair, my dress fell open a little and exposed my knee, while I leaned my elbows on the table and watched him devour his tacos. Part of the stuffing dropped down the side of his lip and he cursed under his breath as it fell on his plate, his fingers already covered in sauce.

"How the fuck am I supposed to eat this?" He spoke with a mouth full, grumbling as he stared at the mess in front of him. I smiled in amusement, watching him lick off his lips before he reached for his napkin. Finally flicking his eyes up to me, he caught my stare, "What're you looking at, baby?"

"Oh nothing," I shrugged casually, "just my boyfriend making a mess of his dinner."

He smirked while folding his napkin up, "It'd be even more of a mess around my mouth if you were my din-"

"Okay." I cleared my throat and cut him off before the entire restaurant knew about Harry's constant need to blurt out the most inappropriate remarks. Especially now that I was on my period. I fidgeted in my chair a little bit, watching him once more as he gulped on his beer.

I was long finished with my food, but Harry of course insisted in ordering about three times the size of the plate that I had.

The more I looked at him, the more I fell in love and the more my heart squeezed painfully in my chest. Not out of hurt, but out of sheer love and adoration for this man. This man, who chose to uproot his entire life for me. This man, who chose to quit his job that he had been at for nearly a decade, just so he could be with me. This man, who went from a heartless asshole to the cutest, softest boyfriend in a matter of months.

I loved him so much.

It didn't stop me from asking him every four minutes if he was sure of his decision. Each time, he'd shoot me a look that signalled me he was done with my questions, constantly trying to assure me that, yes, he was in fact, very sure of his choice. It seemed so sudden to me, but it had clearly been playing in his head for longer than I was aware of.

"Ha, look at that," He smirked in triumph, glancing down to himself, "didn't even stain this white shirt."

"Congrats, you can eat." I teased and he flicked his eyes up smugly, "Oh, I know I can eat. Very well. Always makes you cry out my name, doesn't it?"

My eyes widened as my jaw dropped, especially since the waiter just walked by.

"Harry, oh my god." I buried my flushed face in my palms as he stretched his legs out under the table, rubbing his calf against me with a chuckle, "Just teasin' you, darling."

"You're embarrassing me." I corrected him, opening up my fingers so I could see his face, "I know those people here, you know? It's not like New York."

He huffed out a laugh, "Yeah, I know." In reference to his experience buying flowers for me upon arriving in DC. He told me the story of the sales woman until I was near crying of laughter. Harry was such an easy person to rile up, but watching him try to contain his patience was actually the funniest thing. He did it too that one time with the barista. He always tried to be polite, but people just tested him.

Much to my amusement. I loved seeing him squirm.

"So," He sighed while leaning forward on the table too, "Now that I'm on the job hunt," He smiled while saying that since it still sounded surreal, "what should I do?"

My stomach wildly clenched from the many butterflies as he stared at me, casually asking me what career path he should take now that he ditched Matt's gang. For me. I tried not to feel guilty about it.