"When's this 'Greg' supposed to get here?" Harry asked me on Sunday night. He's been in a bad mood ever since Friday, and frankly I'm sick of it.
"His plane has already landed; he's just going to rest at his hotel for a few hours before coming over to mine."
"He's staying in a hotel? Why?" Harry seems to be happier when he finds that out, smirking a little when he thinks I'm not watching.
"He insisted."
Harry tries to hide his happy face behind his glass of water. "C'mon, let's practice once more before we have dinner." Harry says, pulling me back to his living room.
The practice is going on just fine until one of the close steps trips me up a bit. My heel catches on the end of Harry's jeans and I trip backwards.
"Sorry, sorry. That was my fault." He apologizes quickly, setting me upright again.
"No, it's fine. We just need to be a bit more careful during those steps." I grin at his flustered face.
"Right," He laughs awkwardly, reaching for his phone. "Why don't we chill out for a little while?"
"We just got off from a break." I point out. He doesn't seem to listen as I can see the red recording light on the cameras set up around the room go dim. He looks back up at me from his phone with a faux innocent smile on his face.
"Why don't we eat some dinner?" He suggests. I sigh before nodding, following him into the kitchen area. I wipe a sandwich crumb off his countertop before flicking it away from my finger.
He pulls out numerous possible restaurant flyers and coupons, shrugging at my raised eyebrow. I look over a few of my choices, not really caring much. I wonder if I should get something for Greg too.
"I'm fine with whatever you want," I smile as he sets the coupons aside.
"I have a better idea," He says, placing an ugly apron around himself. "Why don't I make us something to eat?"
I laugh as he pulls his hair back in a tight bun, not letting any curls loose. "And what is on the menu at El Restaurante de Styles?"
He laughs at my given name before pulling out a carton of large pasta shells. "How do you say stuffed shells in Spanish?" He asks.
"I believe it's conchas rellenas."
"Then we will be having... conch-conchela rel-rellentas." He tries, looking at me for guidance. I laugh again, shaking my head.
_-_-_
As it turns out, it takes quite a while to make stuffed shells. Well, it would have been easy, but then Harry realized that he has no cheese to stuff the shells with, so we have to go out shopping. When we're at the super-market, Harry makes it a goal to contemplate between three different cheeses for ten minutes. We ended up getting all three in the end.
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Dancing With The Stars *Narry AU FanFic *Transgender!Niall
Fanfiction"What's your name?" "Nicolette." "No, your real name." "That is my real name," (Or the one where Harry is a solo artist just coming down from his highest peak, and Niall is a male ballerina who's only wish is to be accepted for who he really is: a g...
