“Carly! Stop hiding in the bathroom! You’ll have to come out eventually!” Carah banged rather than knocked, rattling a few of her knick-knacks she kept on the counter, and beneath the gap under the door, her shadow blocked out bits of light.

“As long as you promise me you won’t use that thing against me!” I yelled in various states of undress while I put on my dress and did my make-up. I was planning to leave my hair in its natural wave, but Carah had other ideas. More commonly know as the hot stick of death, the curling iron. The last time she attempted to curl my hair, she burned me and herself several times. If you annoy her, she tends to hit you with the first thing she has in her hands.

My burn marks are a testament to exactly how much fun that is not.

“But your hair will look so nice,” she whined, and I simply ignored her, observing my reflection in the mirror.

I sincerely hoped Harry wasn’t expecting anything special. I wasn’t a dress kind of girl, nor was I a make-up person other than the basics.

My dress was champagne-colored, cut-off just below my knees and cinched just above my belly-button, completely with beading and a sequined top. I was wearing gold sandals, which reminded me of the kind ancient Greek Gods might’ve worn in their day, with my toes and fingernails painted a shade of white with gold undertones.

When the incessant knocking ceased, I took a leap of faith and slowly turned the handle, hoping that Carah wasn’t waiting there with a steaming curling iron to jump me.

I peeked into the hall, moving out just enough so that my eyes were the only part of my body vulnerable.

“Oh sod off, I’m not going to attack you, Lin. Just come out and let me see how you look!” Carah scoffed, but her eyes were open wide and round with excitement.

I rolled my eyes but complied, stepping out into the hallway with my dress swishing about around my knees. It felt strange, getting so dressed up for a date. The last time I’d been asked on one, I was a sophomore and the best thing a person could do for a date was head to the local pizzeria, or the movie theater.

With Harry, it was already completely different. One; it was guaranteed for a picture of us to show up in some tabloid magazine, and two; it was Harry.

Butterflies were erupting in my stomach, bursting over and over again. I was certain that I wouldn’t be able to eat anything later with all the Olympic Gold-worthy stunts being performed.

Carah gasped, dropping the curling iron on her foot, cursing loudly and holding her leg up to her chest, letting out a string of curses that could make anyone’s mother wince.

“You look fucking amazing, Linnie, the boy is going to drop dead when he sees you,” Carah said, and I stared down at my feet, working to hide the smile spreading across my face. My cheeks tinted red.

“What, no complaints about wearing a dress or how long it took you to do your make-up properly for once?” She smirked, and I shook my head.

“I was just thinking,” I began, “about how you conveniently left out the part where I was right about the curling iron.”

“Shut up, we do not speak of the moments when I am wrong in this flat,” Carah warned, pointing her finger at me, and I laughed. She continued on. “I hope you do know that you can’t wear your ear buds or anything, or bring that worn-out looking bag with you.” I pretended to gasp in mock-hurt.

“Do not insult my bag! It has been with me since freshmen year! One does not simply insult a bond like that!” I ran over to the bed and clutched the thing to my chest protectively, as if Carah was secretly fixing to get rid of it while I was asleep.

Carah rolled her eyes and smirked. “Are you fully aware of half the things that come out of your mouth?”

“Are you aware of your growing use of Briticisms? You told me to ‘sod-off’ just now,” I shot back.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” She said indignantly, nose in the air. “I am and forever will be a Yank.”

I waited a few seconds for her to fully realize what she said.

She met my eyes, mortification evident, and we both burst out laughing so hard, I thought it would bust a seam in my dress. We both sank to the floor beside each other, waiting for our laughter to calm down.

After a few minutes, Carah looked over at me, her expression serious. “Are you happy, Carly?” She asked, and I had to take a couple of moments to regain my breath.

“I think I’m getting there,” I replied honestly. Sadness didn’t disappear overnight; issues didn’t just fade into dust. “Truly getting there.”

“Good. Now remember, just because Harry is Harry doesn’t mean you should treat him any differently that you would an ordinary guy off the street. Be careful with him, okay? And watch him. Specifically his hands. And wherever they may roam. And if he returns you in a condition that is not identical to the one you left in, Niall will have to become the new poster-boy.” I giggled at her seriousness, when there was a knock on the door. I would have fallen onto the floor if I wasn’t sitting there already.

Carah sprung up as if she had never been down at all and bolted to the door. I heard her open it and exchange hellos, and a deep, slow voice replying to her.

I stood, smoothing out the skirt of my dress, adjusting the straps a little, and grabbing the little bag (which held absolutely nothing) Carah had lent me to carrying my phone and things for the night.

All I knew about tonight was that we were going somewhere to eat, but I didn’t know where, or what we were eating. He’d also mentioned something about a ‘surprise’ last time I saw him (yesterday).

Collecting myself, I walked into the living room.

I stopped dead the minute my eyes locked onto Harry. He was as handsome as ever, his green eyes gleaming out at me, a mischievous look shining in them. He was wearing a white shirt and a black blazer with black pants. A couple of dog tags dangled from a chain around his neck, and he wore a pair of trainers on his feet.

His mouth was slightly ajar, his eyes open a tad bit wider than usual. I blushed furiously, staring down at my hands and fumbling with a ring on my right pointer finger. Instantly, he stepped forward toward me, lifting my chin and pecking me on the lips.

“You look beautiful,” he said, a grin splitting across his face and slicing two dimples into his cheeks.

“Oi, love birds! Go on your date already before you miss your reservation!” Carah pushed us out the door and into the hallway, waving theatrically at me and leveling a glare at Harry. “Remember, Styles, these words will haunt you in your sleep. Niall as poster boy.” Then she shut the door with a resounding slam and we headed to Harry’s monster of a car, chattering happily the entire way.

***

We entered through the back entrance of a small and cozy (but still fancy) restaurant. There was a special section in the back for us, a little room with a table complete with a white cloth and a candle, straight out of a storybook. I told him that once, weeks ago when the boys had come over for a Disney marathon and Carah insisted that if Liam was going to make them suffer through Toy Story, they would ‘bloody well watch The Lady and The Tramp, too.’ During the spaghetti scene, I’d told him how cute I thought it was, and how I wondered it what it’d be like to do that in real life.

“Do you like it?” He asked nervously, running a hand through his hair, the glow emitted from the candles throwing shadows onto his face.

“I love it,” I breathed, my heart pounding so fast I felt as if I had run a marathon. And we hadn’t even begun the date yet!

It was just then that I realized I was falling hard for Harry Styles, and so strangely fast I didn’t know what to do with myself. The feeling scared me, such strong emotion was not something I was used to feeling. It was like having everything coated in a shade of gray, muting the colors and preventing you from seeing the full potential, until one day someone hosed it all off and everything was brightandflashyandWOW.

It reminded me of that Power-puff Girls episode where Bubbles had to color the town back in to make the townspeople happy. Is that was this was like? Finally coloring everything in? Was I actually afraid to be happy again?

I decided not to think too much about it, and Harry pulled out a chair for me, waiting until I sat before he took a seat.

The dinner was absolutely wonderful, straight out of a fairy-tale. Never a dull moment, and when there was, the lull in conversation was because we were catching our breath from laughing so hard. I learned about his family, his mother and step-father, his sister Gemma and what it was like working in a bakery. He told me about X-Factor, how certain he was that he’d been done for after he played it so safe with the solo. How still nothing felt real, though One Direction was nearing the two year mark. He talked about the fans, and how he loved them all so much but too much of a good thing is never good. I told him about my family, conspicuously leaving out my father, and what it was like when Carah moved away. My dedication to the swim team and the school newspaper, how even though I could’ve gone scholarship, I chose to take a gap year before college. Harry listened thoughtfully; commenting when the time was right, nodding his head and laughing even if I made a really horrible joke, and I did the same to him. (The corny pick-up lines were on a particular high, tonight.) Everything felt heightened, like a buzz from alcohol though I stayed away from it. I wanted tonight to be crystal-clear in my mind.

After the dinner, Harry helped me back into the monster car and made me cover my eyes with a blindfold, checking several times to make sure I couldn’t see through it.

“Where are you taking me?” I asked laughingly, trying to lift the bottom corner of the blindfold to peek out at him.

“It’s a surprise!” He hedged, avoiding my question with an extreme lack of skill every single time.

Eventually, I felt the car slow to a stop, and heard Harry pull the key out of the ignition. I almost moved toward the right, searching for a handle on the passenger door to let myself out, when I remembered that British people did things different around here.

“Almost there,” He whispered in my ear, sending a chill running down my spine. I could practically hear the smirk in his chuckle when he realized what he’d done.

Harry pushed open the door to some kind of building, guiding me through and saying a few things to the people around us that I couldn’t see. I was becoming anxious, straining my eyes to see if there even so much as a shadow to be seen through the blindfold.

There wasn’t.

We got into what felt like an elevator, with the sudden jolt upwards. I stumbled into Harry, grabbing on to him to keep my balance. His arm automatically went around my waist.

“Sorry,” I said, blinding passing my hand over his face, seeing if I could feel my way to cup his cheek. Instead, my fingers brushed over his lips, and I paused.

“Getting any ideas, love?” He asked, clearly amused.

“Maybe one or two,” I replied, and before I could even think his lips were on mine. He pressed me into the elevator wall, hands gripping my waist and kissing me in a way that was much, much different than the sweet little innocent kisses we’d shared before. Harry’s tongue brushed against my lips, asking for entrance and I gladly let him. The kiss deepened, until there was nothing that could reach me except for the elevator’s sudden stop, and the ding of the doors being opened. I still couldn’t see, but I could feel a cool breeze drift in.

“Harry, where are we?” I asked tentatively, moving my hand up to move the blindfold, but his large hands caught mine.

“Only a few more minutes,” Harry said excitedly, “be patient.”

So I was. He led me to the center of some kind of rooftop, judging by the breeze and the general open feel to it all. I could hear cars, the sound of horns and bustling people being carried away by the wind.

“Okay, now you can look,” He said nervously, and pulled the blindfold off of my head.

Instantly I was overwhelmed with everything.

We were on a rooftop that overlooked the whole of London, with Big Ben and the London Eye and just, all of it! The stars were bright and shining in the sky, the moon round and full. There were blankets and pillows spread out around us, and beside one I saw my bag, the one Carah threatened to throw away all of the time, resting beneath the washed-out color of the moon. My heart almost burst.

“Harry.” I said in amazement, at a complete loss for words. He’d outdone himself, this was quickly making its way up to number one on my list of best nights ever.

“Yeah?”

“You… just… my writing notebook… the stars… the restaurant, just… everything!”

Harry chuckled at my incoherent speech, pulling me close to him. “I told you I would make you happy. Have I done that well enough?”

“You’ve done it wonderfully, I don’t even know where to begin—”

“I have an idea,” He said, a cheeky grin on his face. I smiled.

Slowly, teasingly, Harry brought his lips to mine.