A Dreamers Dream

The Hotel - Birmingham, England

"Here, let me help you," Harry says kindly as he crouches down next to me and starts to pick up shards of glass from the floor,
"It's ok really if you cut yourself and can't play your guitar at your next show I'll have twenty-thousand screaming women out for my blood," I say, quickly pushing his hand away from the mess.
"Ha! In the less than twelve hours that I've known you, you've already managed to send a metal gate crashing on to your foot, fall over and then walk straight into me and smash a glass. If either of us needs protecting from themselves, it's you." He teases me, a small smirk forming across his lips.
"How about I just ask the barman for a dustpan and brush, eh?" I suggest and start to get to my feet. But, because I am just clumsy or maybe because God just likes to try and show me up in front of this man, alternatively, I guess it could, possibly, be because of the vodkas. The moment I start to try and stand, the whole world begins to spin, and I feel myself beginning to topple over again. One of Harry's long arms shoots out to steady me, and a small voice in the back of my mind tells me that I should probably be embarrassed by all this. Still, the combination of extreme tiredness and one too many drinks causes a loud, high pitched giggle to erupt from my throat instead.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see a barman approaching us, dustpan and brush in hand.
"Ahh my knight in shining.... shirt," I say as I take in the man's appearance. He's tall, even taller than Harry who's got to be six foot at least and has short-cropped blonde hair, stunning blue eyes and is wearing a smart black shirt buttoned tightly against his Adam's apple. That can't be comfortable. I try and reach out for the dustpan, but he jerks it out of my way.
"I've got this ma'am, don't worry," He tells me, and I hear a trace of what I think is an Australian accent, could be New Zealand...Kiwi... She worked her way through a cheap pack of cigarettes... hahaha. Hang on, where was I?
"Ma'am?! How old do you think I am?" I ask pretending to be offended by his choice of words. Still, before I can say anymore, I feel Harry's strong hand wrap around my bicep and gently lead me towards a stool by the bar. He plops me down on it quite unceremoniously but keeps a hand on my shoulder as if to keep me steady.
"Can I get a pint of water, please?" He asks a second barman who is slightly red-faced and seems to have been enjoying our little exchange.
"Oooh no! I need another one of those pink things for Sammy please Mr Bar Keep. You know what? I think I'll try one of those too actually! Two pink things... I don't know what they're called. I had the glass to show you, but well, it's down there now." I explain, pointing to the mess of glass and the man on his knees with his dustpan and brush. Wow, I'm sure I wasn't this drunk a minute ago, it seems like all the excitement of my run-in with Harry, run in haha! Get it? Anyways, that may have exacerbated my inebriation. Look at me using big words, maybe I am not as think as I drunk I am, after all, I mentally pat myself on the back.
"I think maybe you've had enough for now, how about you have the water first? Then we'll discuss the pink thing. And, I think Sammy left," Harry says, nodding in the direction of the now-abandoned chair that I am sure Sammy was sitting on when I got up.
"Well, how rude!" I exclaim a little too loudly in the now-empty bar and wobble slightly on my stool. Harry lifts the glass of water off of the bar and stands in one swift movement. I notice a little curl slip out from underneath his bandanna and rest right in the centre of his forehead, I want to reach over and tuck it back into place, but I'm concerned that if I lean that far, I may fall over again and I think I've probably fallen into my new boss enough times already for one day.
"How about we go sit you somewhere a little less precarious?" Harry says, reaching out a hand to me as I start to spin slightly on the stool.
"Hmph. I'm not a child, ya know." I reprimand him as I twirl around on my spinny stool, weeeeeeee! But I place my hand in his anyway and allow him to drag me off.
"Not two seconds ago you were telling off that poor lad for calling you Ma'am, and now you're annoyed at me for treating you like a child?" Harry chuckles as he leads me back over to the seats that Sammy, Clarke and I were recently sat in and directs me onto the sofa.
"I will have you know, I am twenty-two years young Mr Styles. Both young and old enough to be allowed another drink" I complain, frowning at the glass of water in his hand.
"Trust me, Maddie, when you have to get on the bus with twenty other crew members later this afternoon, you're gonna thank me for this," He says. A small voice in the back of my head tells me that he might have a point, so I begrudgingly down the water. It tastes incredible, ice-cold and refreshing, and I find myself feeling quite frustrated when it's gone. I turn the glass upside down and tap the end over my open mouth, sticking out my tongue to catch the last few droplets.