Twenty Days (A Harry Styles Fanfic)

Chapter Four

Kate and her friends decide to check out the infamous club called "Heels N' Bills." It's a couple of blocks away from our apartment and usually, I don't mind long drives but being wedged in between Harry and some other girl who's much too bare for my liking isn't exactly the most comfortable situation I've been put in. And Harry's arm brushes against mine so often that I can't believe my cheeks heat up every single time without fail.

I glance over at my side and see that Harry looks as tense as I am when our skin comes in contact. "You okay?"  

"Yeah, it's just... It's been a while since I last hung out with a group of people." He says without looking away from the window and for some reason, he's whispering.

"How come? I had you down as the social butterfly." I whisper back.

He looks at me for a few seconds and smiles kind of shyly. "I prefer intimate hang-outs, that's all."

My heart flutters at his words. With his good looks and unmistakably charming personality, you would think it effortless for him have a lot of people keep him company. And you would think he enjoyed it too. But here is, telling me otherwise: telling me that he would much rather be with a few close people than a large crowd. Looking back at what I've come to know about Harry so far, he does come off as a solitary person. Long hours in the studio. Tree-climbing. Lone visits to a café. He has his walls up but for some reason, is letting me break through them.

When we get to the club, the rest of the girls dash straight inside, leaving Harry and me. He scans the building and looks at me with a smile that makes it almost impossible to believe he looked anxious in the car. "Ready?"

"Harry, please. I know how to have fun."

"Granted," he says, his smile growing. "But without me around."

 With this, he takes my hand and leads me inside, my heart threatening to burst with how quickly it's beating in my chest. My free hand instantly shoots up my face to shield my eyes from the blinding strobe lights. It takes a while for my eyes to adjust and when they do, I can't help but laugh as I see Kate already dancing wildly at the center of the dance floor with her girlfriends around her: some dancing too, others already shamelessly flirting with guys.  

"This is insane!" I yell over the music.

"Nothing's even happened yet," Harry yells back.

We snake through the crowd and reach Kate. She takes both my hands and raises them in the air, swaying them to the beat of the song. I try to move my body along with the music but I'm positive I could dance no more than a mute person could speak. I'll admit that I'm not entirely hopeless when it comes to dancing and I could pull off a few moves. But compared to Kate and her girlfriends, I know I look more like a mother at her kid's school dance than a twenty-two year old at a club.

Kate notices my obvious lack of skills and starts laughing, her hands still in mine. "Loosen up, Al." She says then nods at something behind me. "Look, he's having fun."

I turn around and see what she means. A few feet behind Kate and me, Harry's dancing with a girl I could easily tell he hasn't met until tonight. His arms are wrapped around her waist; their chests remain pressed against each other as she sways her hips. Something inside me turns as I watch the two of them but I try to act indifferent.

"Yeah, good for him."

"Tell that girl to keep her hands off." Kate releases my hands with a coy smile.  

"No," I shake my head. "Harry and I are barely friends."

Kate shrugs it off and we walk to the bar where she buys us shots. It's been a while since my last alcoholic consumption that the fiery sensation the drink leaves makes me cough hard. Nevertheless, I don't object when Kate asks the bartender to bring us five more each. I down every single one, my throat burning and my vision turning hazy. Laughing, Kate and I stand on the bar counter and dance, my body moving in a way I didn't think it could. A large group of people including the friends Kate came in with crowd in front of us and cheer us on. She chugs her last shot, slams the glass on the drink and whips her head back and forth, only earning more cheers from our apparent audience.