Need • Zarry

5. Can I kiss him?

Harry wished more than anything that he wasn't so painfully shy.

If he was a more open, more outgoing person naturally then perhaps dating would be much easier for him. Even though he already knew Lydia he still felt nervous as he got ready for their date. He was so unsure of what to say or how to flirt with her, what the evening would end up becoming and he kept thinking about how he left Zayn alone and even though he claimed he wasn't going to have anyone over, there was no way for Harry to know that for sure.

He's still an 18 year old kid.

But Harry had to force himself not to dwell on it too much because he wasn't supposed to be thinking about Zayn, especially now that he had pulled up to Lydia's rustic, two story blue colonial house and he was about to see her. Harry even did the gentlemanly thing by exiting his Volvo and walked up to her front door to greet her properly, and he stood there counting his breaths as he rang her doorbell.

She waltzed up to Harry in this silky black dress, tight, a little on the short side, with a white sweater over it and her hair cascaded around her heart shaped face in long, shiny brown curls and he couldn't remember ever seeing her done up like that before. Normally Harry saw her post yoga session or checking a book out of the library. Sometimes he ran into her at the grocery store and she would be dressed in something casual like jeans and a t-shirt. But she was always pretty, Harry thought, and Lydia looked especially stunning that night.

He flashed her a bright smile.

"You look so lovely," Harry complimented her.

"Thank you Harry. And you look handsome, as always."

Harry chose to wear a suit similar to the ones he often wore to work, but it was navy blue in color with a white button down dress shirt beneath it. His brown, curly hair was slicked back on top the way that he normally did it, and his thick, black framed glasses were still perched atop his nose.

And Harry had on his steel Cartier watch with a black leather band, which was a gift from his sister Jenna, who had passed away a few years before in a car accident. It was probably the most expensive accessory Harry owned, and he only ever wore it on special occasions when he felt as though he needed her there with him in spirit for a bit of comfort, to give him signs of what to do.

It's one of those nights.

Harry brought Lydia to Christo's and they sat at this booth in the corner which had a flickering candle on the table along with some white lillies in a black ceramic vase, just for a bit of ambiance. They started out by making some small talk about Julia and James, which was an easy subject to cover since they were mutual friends, which lead Harry to ask Lydia about her holiday plans and if she enjoyed Myrtle Beach in the summer was where her family lived now.

She's nice to look at.

Harry enjoyed her laugh and he thought her voice was pleasant. Her eyes were this soft greenish-blue color, like sea foam, and they sparkled and crinkled in the corners whenever she smiled.

"How's your risotto?" she asked Harry after they received their plates and he nodded as he finished chewing his bite.

"It's delicious."

The conversation between Harry and Lydia remained primarily casual and he was fairly certain that there was something wrong with him as the first hour went by, because he just wasn't feeling that spark, that warmth, that attraction that you're supposed to feel with someone.

I want to feel that with her.

And Harry wondered if maybe it would take some time to develop, if it was one of those feelings that grew rather than something instantaneous. It seemed as though Lydia was trying to make it happen for them as well because at one point during dessert she leaned in and brushed Harry's hand with hers, accidentally on purpose, as they shared a slice of chocolate mousse cake.