GREEN (RL Harry Styles fanfic)

65. Blush

I reluctantly went back home Tuesday morning. Harry insisted it wouldn't be a proper date if he didn't pick me up. I explained the flaw in his logic by bringing up our "first" and "second" dates from when I was staying at his house concussed, to which he replied that was doctor's orders so he had no other choice.

While I was at home figuring out what to wear to dinner, Harry was off shopping with Xander to find something to wear himself. The fact that he was taking this date so seriously was endearing. He wanted it to be perfect since it was not only our first dinner date, but essentially our first public outing as a couple. Sure, we hadn't announced anything, but it would be evident it was a date once pictures made it online.

Harry had given me very little info on where we were going, but he said I should wear a dress and he would wear a jacket. I had just received one of the sample dresses for my women's collection, and considering it was strongly inspired by Harry I decided it would be perfect to wear tonight. It was a blush color, the palest pink, with accents of black lace on the waist and in a band across the upper chest. The light fabric was printed with antique birdcages and tiny birds.

I could distinctly recall the moment inspiration had struck me. I had awoken entangled in Harry's arms. My eyes drank him in, maybe subconsciously committing him to memory in case I were to wake up and discover it had all been a dream. I took a cool shower that refreshed my body and mind. My creativity flowed as freely as the streams of water. With my mind already drunk on Harry, each design was imbued with hints of him; infused with his essence. That's how I felt now. Every part of me was saturated with Harry, eternally intoxicated by him.

I took my time getting ready, having the added pressure of knowing my picture would probably be plastered all over magazines and gossip sites by this time tomorrow. I was going to have to get used to that. We had avoided a media storm to some extent so far but we couldn't, and wouldn't, do that forever.

I curled my jet black hair into an intentional mess of waves piled atop my head and secured my fringe in place with a rhinestone hairpin. My cheeks were tinted with blush to give color to my otherwise fair complexion. I lined my lids with dark winged eyeliner and smoked my eyes with a trio of neutral tones. I tinted my lips only a few shades darker than their natural color making them look freshly bitten. I slipped on a pair 1920s flapper-style heels and considered my look complete.

It was just before 7 PM when I heard a knock at the door that was sure to be Harry. I couldn't wipe the smile off my face if I tried. I tucked my lipgloss and a few other essentials in a small clutch purse and opened the door. There on the other side stood Harry with his hands linked behind his back and his bottom lip pouted out ever so slightly. His eyes looked tentative, like he was unsure or nervous. I smiled even wider than I had been and raised just an inch in my heels to peck his pout into the smirk I loved. His hair was purposefuly styled, pushed back with more care than just his fingertips. Oddly enough, our outfits coordinated. It was purely coincidence, but Harry wore a light colored button up with a variety of colorful birds printed across it. It was underneath a simple black blazer, though I recognized it as designer, and all paired with his black skinny jeans and brown suede boots.

"Hi baby," I said still against his lips.

"Hi gorgeous," he smiled and pecked my cheek before taking my hand to lead me to the passenger side of a classic Mercedes convertible. "I hope you don't mind that I brought the convertible?"

"Not at all. I love it." Harry opened the door and waited until I was safely buckled in before doing the same for himself. As soon as the car was in gear his hand fell to its resting place on my thigh. "So where are you taking me?," I asked, hoping he'd finally give me some details.

"A restaurant called Cecconi's. Have you been there before?," he asked glancing at me. I nodded my head no just before he turned his attention back to the road. "I think you'll like it. They've got a great eggplant parmigiana for you." I smiled at him, even though he wasn't looking at me at the moment. That was one of my favorite dishes, which Harry knew. He called me once on tour while I was eating some and practically signing in the phone at how good it was. He never missed a thing about me.