Primrose Thrills (Harry Styles mature)

Chapter 2

"I'll never understand how people can jog up this hill" I panted, struggling to keep up with Harry's effortless strides up the steep gradient to the top of Primrose Hill.
"Almost there" he laughed, pausing as he turned around to wait for me to catch up.
My short legs weren't built for such quick and steep ascents, and today was proving no different. I picked up my pace until I was alongside Harry, who was carrying a large bag on his shoulder, and still managing to walk a few meters in front without any effort needed.

Once we reached the top, Harry stopped and turned to look out into the distance. You could see the entire skyline of London from the peak of the hill, and with the setting sun illuminating the tall landmark and corporate buildings, it looked truly breath-taking.
"I love how small London looks from up here" I remarked, squinting my eyes as the harsh beams of sun glared at me.
"Me too," a soft voice agreed from behind me.
When I turned around, Harry had laid a chequered blanket out atop the thick green grass, and had already kicked his shoes off. I watched him for a moment, straightening the corners of the blanket until it had formed an almost perfect square, before settling himself down. He looked up at me, refusing to break our gaze as I took a few steps towards him and sat down next to his body. His legs were outstretched and he was flexing his toes beneath the warm rays, leaning back slightly and propping his body onto his palms.
"Do you come here often?" I asked, still looking out onto the abstract city skyline; a contrast to the soft curves of the hill.
Harry laughed. "Are you trying to chat me up?"
"Har har." I mocked a scowl as I looked at him.
"Yes. I come here quite a lot. It's quiet. Makes a nice change to the general hustle and bustle of city life."
He was right. Primrose Hill was so different to central London. It was like a small countryside village with a variety of mini shops, boutiques and pubs lining the narrow streets- as well as the hill itself, which was a vast expanse of fresh green. The tall white terraced houses and flashy cars exuded affluence, but it was far from pretentious. Everything was calm and relaxed- no rush, no haste. Sort of like a city nirvana.

I inhaled deeply, enjoying the fresh air- much fresher than the thick polluted air that I was used to in the centre of the city. I followed suit and slipped my shoes off; my feet barely reaching his calves as I stretched my legs.
"What's in the bag then?" I asked, running my eyes over the large satchel at his side.
He looked over to where my eyes were, before looking back at me and smirking as he reached into his bag.
"Champagne?" I questioned with pleasant surprise as he pulled the bottle from hiding. "And very expensive champagne at that. That's got to be at least four hu-"
"It doesn't matter" Harry laughed, cutting me off before I had a chance to finish my assumption. I couldn't help but smile at his efforts.
"Do all your second dates get this treatment?"
He smirked back at me as he clasped the cork in his right hand, bottle held tightly in his left, sensing my light-hearted tone.
"Third if you count the coffee shop day."
He caught me off-guard and I blushed. "Do you?"
"Well, it wasn't technically a date, but it's definitely a day that I haven't forgotten."
Harry grinned as he popped the cork and a steam of ice-cold mist rose from the open mouth. Before the bubbles had a chance to spill over, he'd lifted two champagne flutes from the bag at his side and was filling them with the almost-clear liquid.
"Something amusing?" I asked, as he carefully continued to pour the champagne, alternating between the two glasses as he waited for the bubbles to calm. He looked up from his concentration.
"You. You amuse me even when you don't mean to."
"Do I?"
"Yes. Even just then when your cheeks turned pink because I reminded you of our first encounter." I could feel heat rising even more so to my cheeks. "I'd still quite like to see you in those briefs."
I laughed, taking the flute from his hand and holding it carefully at the stem, flitting my eyes back and forth between the ground and his own gleaming green orbs.
"But no. In answer to your question, I can't say I've ever done this with somebody before. You're the first."
My stomach fluttered. I couldn't have suppressed the grin that spread on my face even if I'd tried.
"You're flattering me, Mr Styles. Next you'll be pulling strawberries out of your bag."
"I'm insulted you think I'd be so predictable!"
He grinned as he fumbled in his bag, before pulling out a small brown paper bag.
"Now these" he began as his hands disappeared inside the bag, "are Hummingbird cupcakes. They're my favourite."
I eyed the carefully crafted cakes up and down; soft vanilla sponge laden in a candyfloss pink icing with unusual striped icing straws poking out of the top. He handed me one, grinning like a child as I took it from him. "Strawberry milkshake, in case you're wondering. I hope you like it."
I lifted the cupcake to my lips and let the sweet, sugary aroma flow up my nose, before taking a delicate bite from the top. It was like a little pink bundle of sugary heaven, and I hummed in appreciation. I wondered how Harry's body was in such good shape. He definitely didn't overeat, but he ate well and didn't seem to worry about what went past his lips. He was slender and toned, and had muscles in all the right places. In fact, there wasn't an ounce of fat on him. Just the thought of his naked body excited me. I watched Harry's lips intently; their fullness showing as he took a bite and they slowly smothered the icing. As he lowered the cake from his mouth, I noticed the frosty glaze over his lips, and I couldn't help but imagine my lips over his right now, tasting the sweetness of the cake- and him. He swept his tongue over his lower lip until the icing had disappeared completely, and held his champagne glass out towards me.