No More Pictures Please {Harry Styles Fanfic}

Chapter 9: Tables Have Turned.

No More Pictures Please: Chapter 9: Tables Have Turned.

I feel so bad. Like, really. I apologize. I'll try and make another chapter to put up today, but here's just a quick, cute little chapter to hold you over till then.

TODAY I'LL WRITE MY BUTT OFF OK?

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{Tyler's POV}

Why are the paparazzi such a big surprise?

I mean, I should've known that they'd find us, and it's not like it's anything new...

But somehow, I'd gotten the notion that they would actually leave us alone and give us a normal day.

Stupid me.

Why would they allow that? Why would they allow me to be happy without faking an ounce of it? Why would they let me have a day to be a normal girl? Why would they let me go out on a date unnoticed?

The corners of my mouth turn down as I glance at the window, and I cringe as the unpleasant sounds of the camera make their way to my ears.

Now, usually, if I really was as pissed as I am right now, I'd run out there and give them a piece of my mind. But with Harry here, I didn't really want them to get the notion that Harry likes girls with violent, bitchy personalities.

Yes, I was toning down my actions for a boy.

Haha.

Harry must've noticed my discomfort, because he shifted his seat and blocked my view of the window.

"You want to leave now?" He asks, and I shake my head, not wanting something as idiotic as that to ruin my day.

"No. We didn't even get to eat yet." I reply, flashing a bright smile to show him that I'd rather stay here. It doesn't work.

"We could eat something at your house, I could cook." He insists. I feel a sudden urge to just melt, I mean, surely any girl would. But I can't let him, I mean, I might've if I'd known him longer, but to me that just seems like it would be really rude, and I'm sure he wouldn't be able to handle it if I did something horrible to him.

He can hardly stand me as is, even though he acts like he's totally fine with it.

"That's really sweet Harry. But no, I'd rather just stay here." I say before a genuine smile appears on my lips at his concern.

"Well alright. But if you need to we can leave." He relaxes a bit, breathing deep and shaking his head.

I laugh at his efforts, causing him to grin.

I like his smile.

It's very...

Innocent? Sweet? Adoring? All of the above. I just loved seeing it.

"You're being really sweet." I say, and he looks at me questioningly, making me self-concious. Did I do something? "What?" I ask, feeling slightly embarrassed. Am I not allowed to compliment him?

"No it's just, even in the little time I've know you, you tease others instead of saying what you want to. But the point gets across." He says, and once he laces over and realizes that I'm lost, he explains again. "For example, if I said something nice to Louis, you'd respond with 'Gay bastards.' When really you meant, 'How sweet.'"

I take in his words and smirk at his observation skills. "Yeah, or I could just mean that you are gay bastards." I tease, poking his arm.

"Or that. But I like my theory better. Because if the more you tease me means the more you like me, you must like me a lot." I purse my lips at the bold statement, and decide to tease him further.

"Whatever helps you sleep." I answer.

Apparently our conversation had been much longer than it seemed, and Cherlyn came with two heaping trays of food.

One for me, and one for Harry.

"Well, dig in!" I exclaim, shoving my first forkful of heavenly food into my mouth.

***

"I'm stuffed." Harry complains, patting his stomach.

"You sure do look like you are." I comment, poking his belly which, not much to my surprise, is rock-hard.

"I do not!" He responds, sitting upright to glare at me.

I roll my eyes. Come on. Harry doesn't have an ounce of fat on him. He's pure muscle.

"Whatever. Ready to go?" I ask, standing up and grabbing my purse. Harry follows, leaving behind a considerably large tip.

"Yeah. Let's go."

I say bye to Cherlyn and Marvin when I see them, and then we're off, out the door in a matter of seconds.

I ignore the questions and rude comments, and with Harry by my side I feel better. A lot better actually. I feel like I don't care about what they say although really, somewhere deep, deep inside my twisted mind, I do care.

"So uh, where you wanna go now?" I ask Harry, who currently is in the process of changing the music stations.

"I wouldn't know. I don't live here." He reminds me, making it so that I am on the verge of showing color on my cheeks.

"Are you sure you're ok? Did I do something?" He asks out of the blue. What? I'm fine, nothing's wrong.

"What do you mean?" I say, turning to face him although his eyes are on the road.

"I mean, you don't seem very much like, Tyler. Don't get me wrong, I still really, um, like you, but you're not as..." He pauses, crinkling his nose in frustration which, of course, looks adorable.

"I'm not as what?"

"Not as... I don't know. Not as Tyler. See? Usually you'd say something like, I'm not what shitbag? You don't like me anymore? Or something." He finishes.

"You know, that's an awfully big assumption for someone that's only known me for a few days." I say, crossing my arms.

"Well, you're easy to read. I think. Or it could be that in those few days I've been seeing your face non-stop." He chuckles slightly, and I can't help but join in.

"Well then, it looks like the tables have turned shitbag." I say, mocking him.

"Yeah, maybe they have." He replies, a serious look crossing his face.

God damn it Harry, what are you thinking in that idiotic little brain of yours this time?

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waѕѕυp ι'м вacĸ.

yeaн yeaн, ѕυper ѕнorт cнapтer, вυт ι'м тryιng тo υpdaтe agaιn тoday, ѕo нold вacĸ yoυr нaтe.

gυyѕ, ιғ yoυ нave ѕтυcĸ aroυnd, тнanĸ yoυ ѕo мυcн, and aѕ υѕυal:

нaтe ιт? тell мe.

love ιт? тell мe.

yoυ don'т gιve a ғυcĸ? ѕтιll тell мe.

wanт тo мarry тyler? yeaн, тнaт мιgнт noт acтυally вe legal вυт тell мe and we мιgнт вe aвle тo worĸ ѕoмeтнιng oυт. ;)

~MISSY