Lights, Cameras, & Harry Styles

8: Dinner, Laughs, & Harry Styles

- Harry -

I felt bad. In fact, I felt horrid. I shouldn't have yelled at Amber. And why did she care whether I broke that git's jaw or not? He deserved it. I was only defending her and she doesn't even bother to thank me. Maybe it was foolish of me. I should have let her handle it herself. She did say she had it all under control, right? Wrong. She had no control. That man had her right where he wanted her. It was obvious by the way she was squirming to get away from him. I knew right away something wasn't right when I came out of the loo. Amber was against the wall, the man's face inches from hers. She didn't look comfortable. She didn't look the least bit happy. The look on her face said it all. She was scared. Though she'd never admit it, she was massively scared. I don't know where my own reaction came from. I didn't have to think as I ran over and slammed my fist into that git's jaw. Amber, on the other hand, was shocked as I grabbed her and dragged her out of that blasted theatre. If something would have happened to Amber, I'd be blamed for not protecting her. In all honesty, I hadn't even thought of that until Amber asked me why I gave a shit about her. I don't really know why I did it. I just had.

I sneak a peek at Amber from the corner of my eye. She's had her head against the window the entire ride though her tears were dry now. She hasn't said a word or even looked at me. The guilt from yelling at her reappeared, making me regret talking to her in the way I had.

"We're here." I mutter as I pull into the back parking lot of the steakhouse. It was clear that Amber didn't want to be here nor did I. I'd much rather be back in the apartment, cuddled on the sofa and watching TV.

I push open the door and step out, shoving the keys into my pocket. Glancing back at Amber, I notice she hasn't even bothered to get out of the car. She's in the same position as before: head against window, eyes vacant, and lips pressed tightly together.

I sigh, mumbling a few colorful words beneath my breath as I make my way around the car. I knock on Amber's window, maybe a little louder than I intended. She jumps, startled, but doesn't even bother meeting my eyes as I pry open the door.

"C'mon, Amber." I groan. "If we're late, we lose are reservation. Carol will kill us!" I run a hand through my curls, looking around in hopes that no paparazzi had followed us here. They hadn't.

I thank god when Amber steps out of the car, standing up and shutting the door behind her. Her eyes look horrid. They were red from the tears and dark circles had appeared, making her seem as if she hasn't had a week worth of sleep. There come the guilty feelings again.

"If you want, I'll make up some excuse to tell Carol and we can go back home." I offer, my voice almost a whisper. Wait, did I just say home? The apartment wasn't home. England was home. The flat I shared with Louis was home. The apartment... It will never be home. So why had I called it that?

Amber evades my eyes, staring down at her empty hands. What is up with her? Is this really about our little show earlier? Or is there something else bothering her? I don't know, but my next action surprises even me.

I place a finger beneath her chin and slowly tilt her head up to meet my eyes. Brushing away stray strands of blonde from her face, I try to give her the best smile I could.

"I'm sorry if anything I said hurt you. I honestly am, Amber. I shouldn't have yelled at you, but please speak to me. Can't you see I'm trying here?" My eyes are pleading as I stare deeply into her green-blue ones. She'll never forgive me. Even if this is something so small, there's the past to hold her back.

Amber lifts her hand and gently removes mine from her chin, zero expression on her face. "Let's go inside." She mutters, looking away and beginning to saunter toward the restaurant. I sigh once again, following after her. This is my entire fault. It's not that man's fault. It's not the paparazzi's fault. No. It's mine. It's all mine. I shouldn't have been so rude to her. Not now. Not ever. Look where it's landed us. Because of me, we hate each other's guts.