Soulmates, sunflowers, hot air balloons, ballet, wildfire and music.
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EXCERPT:
"Why do you always call me sunflower?" She looks as though she's desperate for the answer, staring into my soul with so much sincerity in her words.
I smile to mysel...
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Don't mess this up Evie.
Harry Styles is sitting in front of me, at the New York City Ballet.
When he walked into my room, my heart stopped.
I seemingly lost all common sense. I convinced myself that I was purely imaging things. That the Harry Styles wasn't standing in front of me.
But he was.
And now I am at a bar getting a drink with him.
I have officially peaked at life.
From the mass amount of paparazzi and flashing cameras outside, I assumed that there would be at least a few big names here.
However, Harry Styles was not one that came to mind. In fact he probably would've been the last person I guessed.
And the chances of him stumbling into the room I happened to be in was next to nothing.
But somehow he did.
And when he did I lost the ability to function, the words in my head just weren't coming out of my mouth. I'm just glad I didn't make a complete and utter fool of myself.
Maybe I said something right because he then asked me to get a drink with him.
Me.
And Harry Styles.
Boring, simple, ordinary and fair to say average, Evangeline Johnson.
And Harry Styles.
This has to be some type of dream.
Am I in one of Esme's dreams right now?
My phone is still in my purse. Turned off. Therefore meaning Esme hasn't got a clue of the matter that I am sitting with Harry Styles and having a conversation with him.
She will kill me for not telling her as soon as I met him. Well, that is only if she doesn't die on the spot when she hears I met him.
I, myself, can barely believe he's sitting in front of me, on a bar stool, in an all black suit complete with waist coat and tie, buying me a drink.
Living with Esme who has a Harry shrine in the back of her closet, as well as constantly being sent TikToks of him, I've come to understand he has a flare for the more flamboyant side of fashion.
Which again, I only wish I could do.
But to see him in a very plain and simple suit is slightly eccentric, and very mysterious.
And happens to make him even more appealing than before.
I sit, admiring him as he speaks to someone the other side of the bar. Watching his lips move slowly while he adjusts the buttons on his suit so it's not done up anymore.
