7.

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I slowly lift my head up and open my eyes when I feel a tingling sensation in the palm of my hand. I realize I fell asleep, along with my hand.

"Ow." I grunt, slowly moving my hand down to lap and rubbing it with my other one.

"Morning." Harry smirks, glancing in my direction for a second.

I take in my surroundings; we were on an empty highway cruising down the road (most definitely going over the speed limit), the sun was fully out now, and I was still in the convertible with Harry.

"How long was I out?" I ask, bringing my hands to my head and rubbing my eyes.

"Not that long, maybe 45 minutes? An hour? I'm not sure." He says.

"Sorry, I didn't get much sleep last night." I mumble, leaning my head back against the head of the seat.

We sit in silence for a moment before I clear my throat, "What's your favorite color?" I ask him, turning my head to face him. I bring my left leg up to my chest and rest my chin on my knee, waiting for Harry to answer.

"What?" He asks, confused by my question.

"This trip is for us to get to know each other, so I am asking questions about you." I explain.

"That's a boring ass question." He snickers, offending me.

"Excuse me." I gasp, bringing my hand up to my face over-dramatically.

"Please- nobody actually cares what your favorite color is, or what your favorite ice cream flavor is. It's the personal shit that matters. Like- how old were you when you lost your virginity?" He abruptly asks, taking me by surprise.

I gasp for real this time, widening my eyes in shock, "Harry you can't just ask someone that!" I exclaim.

"It was just an example! I wasn't expecting you to actually tell me." He defends.

I roll my eyes and try and think of another question. I personally thought my color question was good— plus I've only known this dude for like, two days. I don't want to tell him every little thing about me, just the basics.

"Who's your celebrity crush?" I ask him, hoping he'll answer. I'm trying my best here.
I look up at him and see him roll his eyes dramatically.

"Shitty question." He scoffs, bringing his hand up to his hair and running his fingers through it.

"Hey! I'm doing my best here. How about you ask me something." I challenge him. I turn my head to face him and bring one of my knees up to my chest, resting my chin on it.

"Who's your boyfriend?" He asks with no hesitation, taking me my surprise.

"Oh." I stumble on my words, I wasn't expecting that question. "Dylan. His name is Dylan."

"I didn't ask for his name, I asked for who he was."  He reiterates in a no tone voice making me want to roll my eyes. He's very sassy today.

"Oh, well. He works for his fathers business. And he is nice." I quickly finish my explanation, not wanting to talk any further about this. I wanted to do this road trip to clear my mind of Dylan. It was a pretty shitty explanation, but like I said, I don't want to talk about Dylan.

"Sounds boring as fuck." Harry says, emphasizing the f in fuck. I widen my eyes at his bluntness.

"Hey. He is not." I defend Dylan, not knowing why. He has been being an ass lately.

"Right." He scoffs, "Let me guess; he's a daddy's boy, he's conservative, his parents don't like the fact that he's dating a music star, you're worried he's only dating you because you're a music star, and he's upset that you're collaborating with me." He stops, turning his head to meet my wide eyes; I was shocked.

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