Caught in a Lie ~ h.s.

♕ V ♕

i'm so happy with the response this story is getting, even though we're just starting out and it's a bit slow. thank you for reading; i promise it picks up xx

♕♕♕

"Where exactly are we?"

When I pictured my first moments above the surface of the earth in London, I did not see myself wandering through semi vacant streets with someone I barely know. I thought I'd exit the tube station and be immediately met with the hustle of the city. I pictured tourists every which way, loud noises, interesting smells, you name any stereotype about London and I thought for sure that's what I was going to get.

But alas, I didn't get much of that. Instead, I'm being guided through vacant cobblestone streets, my hand carefully clutched in the warmth of Harry's masculine hold, the heat of his body radiating towards me with our close proximity. The temperature is welcomed with the cool May air that swallows us whole and breeze that whips us relentlessly.

He won't tell me where we're going and I'm beginning to worry he's dragging me off to a dark alley to presumably kill me. Even with the lingering fear in the back of my mind I'm a smiling mess. My neck hurts from turning my head towards every image, sound, and scent. I find myself gawking at the glimpse of the Thames that I get, giggling to myself when a group of drunk girls clumsily pass us by, and nearly moaning when I get a whiff of what I can only presume is some type of Indian cuisine.

"You don't like surprises, do you?" Harry asks, laughing down at me, a couple crinkles by his eyes appearing along with the sound. I shrug my shoulders and gaze downward for a moment, looking at our conjoined hands.

I'm utterly shocked that he has yet to release my hand from his hold, but I'm also not complaining. It's an inviting feeling holding someone's hand. I feel comforted and protected. I may not know this person very well, but I can tell he won't bring any harm to me. His slightly calloused fingers trace the back of my hand absentmindedly and I can't help the blush that tints my cheeks.

"For you m'lady." My gaze shifts upwards to see Harry holding out a single flower between his fingertips. A shocked laugh comes from my lips as I look around to where he could have possibly gotten that beautiful item from.

"Where did you -?" With a subtle nod of his head towards the tiny storefront to his side my question is answered." Did you steal this?" I wonder, seeing as no one is standing outside the shop, a single light inside the store the only proof that someone is there. Normally I don't condone stealing, but how can I say no to my favourite flower.

"They won't miss one tulip." I smile and bring the light pink flower up to my nose, breathing in the heavenly aroma.

"You're lucky tulips are my favourite flower." Harry smiles down at me as we continue to walk hand in hand down the darkened street. "Did you know that pink tulips symbolize happiness and confidence?" With a shake of his head, Harry gives my hand a squeeze. I know far too much about tulips for my own good, I suppose that's what you get when you like to surf the web in your free time.

"I'll keep that in mind." A blush, matching the shade of the tulip between my fingertips, appears on my cheeks and I'm glad for the darkness. "We're here."

I snap out of my trance on Harry's hand, my eyes taking in the brick building before us. The sign above the old wooden door reads Tommy's Pub and I'm incredibly curious as to why he'd bring us here. Truth be told I don't know when the last time I had something to drink other than champagne or wine was, so perhaps I really do need this. Plus, every tourist to London needs to visit a proper pub... or so I've been told.

"Styles!" The name is shouted out as soon as we enter the pub, our hands still intertwined as Harry leads me through the door. The voice the shout came from belongs to the man behind the bar and his eyes are locked on Harry, so maybe Styles is a nickname?