No Matter What // Harry Styles AU -- Dunkirk inspired

Chapter Sixty-Seven

Hazel's POV

I wake up in the most delicious way. Tucked tightly beneath the heaviest of duvets, I hug a soft pillow imagining its Harry. I linger in comfort for a moment longer, relishing how warm and cozy it feels on this delight Christmas Eve, before I hear a little knock on my wall.

My Harry.

I giggle like an idiot and emerge from my cozy cocoon to wrap my knuckles back against the wall. We do this a few times more, before I rest my hand against the silk papered walls. How I long to touch him, to feel him, to have him be all mine. I could probably spend all day dreaming of Harry, but I know that the sooner I get ready, the sooner I can see him for real.

Awake and ready for the day, I quickly dress in a blouse and skirt Gran picked out for me, and rush to meet Uncle Ben and Harry for breakfast. We dine again in the restaurant downstairs and go over the plans for the day. We end up meeting Arthur at the National Gallery for a tour of his favorite paintings and then at four, I'm dropped back off at the hotel for Gran's city stylist to meet me and dress me for the party. I feel silly to require such pampering, but if I'm honest, a small part of me secretly enjoys it. I have no idea what I'm doing when it comes to such things, but I do wish to look beautiful for Harry.

"Hm," the stylist stares at my face a tad more intensely than I would like. "Yes, yes! That's what we'll do!" 

Before long she has me shimmying into a golden dress with the most beautiful puff sleeves. The fabric feels so good against my skin as the silk settles into place. She then takes her time perfectly coiffing my unruly hair into side swept low bun. With a kiss of lipstick and a hint of blush, she finishes just in time for me to go downstairs. 

I make my way down towards the lobby and find all three men waiting for me. Arthur calls out to me, "Why isn't she as divine as a goddess!"

"She is most certainly not," I laugh back. "But thank you, kindly."

"Aw come on, Harry, my chap! Tell the girl, isn't she just an absolute diamond," Arthur says, encouragingly.

Harry's eyes are warm, spiced with a sultry gaze. He quietly nods, "You do look quite lovely, Miss Chapman."

My heart flutters at the sight of him in his suit. It's not as fancy as the tuxes the Uncle Ben and Arthur sport, but he looks downright dapper. His black jacket sharpens his broad shoulders, and he looks as lean and lanky as ever.

"And what about me? Am I nothing but an old man?" Uncle Ben asks, disrupting my thoughts.

"Shall I call you a goddess as well?" Arthur jests, making both Harry and I laugh. "How you've remained a bachelor all these years will certainly remain a mystery." 

I do consider it for a second. Why isn't Uncle Ben married? He's a perfectly kind and respectable man. 

"Speak for yourself, you old man," Uncle Ben says to Arthur. The two men chuckle as we turn to walk towards the taxi. The four of us climb in, still laughing and joking around. I notice that as the ride goes on, Harry falls a tad quiet. He has a sense of calm, though, that eases my nerves about meeting Gran and Grandfather's friends. Harry is so personable and he has such an ease about him. I'm thoroughly jealous as my fears of large crowds and new people starts to bubble up.

We finally reach the Westwood's neighborhood and my mouth drops just slightly. We're further out in the city, where the buildings no longer touch on each sides. Instead, beautiful estates of brick and limestone line the streets, each grander and more exquisite than the next. The driver pulls the car in front of one home, which equally rivals the opulence of Gran and Grandfather's countryside estate.