Note To Self (Harry Styles AU)

Chapter Thirty Five.

Sophie's words lingered in Harry's head even long after she headed home later that night. They held a certain meaning to them, a meaning Harry knew but couldn't quite bring himself to believe. She wasn't talking about seeing his baby pictures, she was talking about him. She was lucky to have him. At least, she felt she was. She was wrong, Harry thought. He was the lucky one.

Sophie was everything he could've asked for in a girl, and she'd taken an interest in him out of all people. He was lucky, she was not.

He always had thought of her as nothing more than a friend, but that had slowly began to change. He was interested, he supposed. Certainly would never turn her down, because she was pretty and she liked him.

Friday night had finally arrived, and he spent over an hour getting poked and prodded by his mother in front of the mirror. She wanted him to look perfect. Not a strand of hair was out of place, no creases in his clothes, not a single thing about his appearance was off. He looked just as good as he felt.

Just before he was about to leave, a set of keys were held out in front of him to take. "Make sure to open the door for her," his father spoke. "And don't be an idiot."

His hand clasped around the keys to his fathers Mercedes. He glanced down at them in his large palm, reflecting the light of the room. "Thank you."

Hands could be felt on his shoulders from behind, the soft voice of his mother speaking to him next. "Keep your hands on her waist when you dance, and don't forget to tell her she looks nice."

"Okay."

He was nudged, "Go."

Harry took a deep breath, and was out the door. The sun was nearly set, the town lit by the only remaining blue light the cobalt sky gave off. It provided a shield Harry could hide behind to disguise his nervous expression that even he couldn't quite detect from looking at himself in the mirror of his dad's car.

His palms were sweaty while he took the drive to pick her up from home, the yellow house just down the street from where he lived. The windows were lit up, showing the lights were on inside and he knew she was waiting when he pulled into the driveway to park.

Harry drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, fidgeting as he watched the minutes on the clock pass by.

6:56.

6:57.

6:58.

When the clock struck 6:59, he took one last look in the mirror before climbing out of the car. The chirp of crickets and the sound of his shoes against the pathway rang in his ears with each step he took, nearing the front stoop of the home.

The world seemed to fall silent when his knuckles made contact with the door at precisely 7:00. Right on time. Not a second too early, nor one too late.

Sophie did not greet him at the door, her father did. He was tall, bulky, and was known to be a little hostile. Harry was always scared of him, but he'd never been more intimidated by the man than he was in the moment the door creaked open and revealed his face.

"Hi, Mr. O'Donald," Harry choked out, fearing some sort of lecture from the man.

He hummed, and opened up the door further, "Come in, she'll be down in a minute."

Harry hesitantly stepped inside, the door being shut behind him as he stood in the foyer. He'd been to this house countless times, it wasn't anything new to him, though he felt out of place as he kept his hands clasped behind his back and could feel Mr. O'Donald's eyes boring into him.

"Let's get some things straight," he spoke with authority to his tone. "I want her home by 10:30. You will respect her and treat her like a lady, do not touch her anywhere you know you shouldn't, and absolutely no illegal activities. You're a good kid, I trust you with my daughter. Don't make me regret that."