Just Harry and I.

It'd been about three hours since the boys and I started talking. They were all really lovely lads. Surprisingly only three of them had girlfriends. Would have thought being as famous, charming and as good looking as they were they would all have a minimum of one each! Zayn had Perrie, Liam had Susannah and Louis had Elle. Niall was single. Harry was single.

To be honest, each and every one of them were amazing and no fame or money was going to change how great their personalities are. The fact I was sitting in a shitty restaurant around a tiny, crappy, chewing gum covered table with THE One Direction bewildered me. Opportunities like this don't happen very often. Still, I didn't really care if they were famous. They were genuinely nice people, no doubt about it!

We had all exchanged numbers as long as I promised not to give it out to the first randomer that asks for it(not that someone would automatically resemble me as a One Direction fan or think I'd have their number but you know, precautions) also, if I was a member of One Direction I wouldn't really trust some girl who'd I'd only known a few hours. Evidently, I wasn't going to go round telling everyone what their numbers were. But how were they supposed to know that?

It was now 12am and I actually didn't feel tired one bit. I didn't think the boys did either, but how am I going to know how they feel? I gathered they wouldn't be exhausted anyway, seeing as they're usually up late at parties every night. The were the biggest boy band for gods sake, they were bound to be used to it.

The restaurant was closed but I mentioned I'd lock up if me and the lads could stay a bit longer to talk more. I was so fascinated with their lives, not so much with their famous ones but how rarely they got to see their families. That would kill me. Anyway, there was only me and the boys in there which meant only one thing...THE SUNGLASSES WERE COMING OFF. Yeeeee.

They were slightly nervous which I found absolutely adorable! Harry was brave enough to go first, gently pulling them down off his silky smooth face, dragging them over his baby pink/cherry coloured lips, then placing them down on the table. The table and his glasses had being designed in common, although Harry's were more along the lines of designer whereas the table was more des...troyed.

Our eyes linked immediately. His goldeny fresh-grass, glistening ivy eyes locked with my light blue ones. We were captured in each others sight for a second, when Niall coughed loudly to grab our attention away from each other. We suddenly snapped out of it. When Harry and I were trapped in that moment, I felt fireworks bursting within me. I'd never felt like this before. I couldn't like him could I? Not this early.

"Aw, you like him don't you?" Niall whispered down my ear, using quite a gentle, sweet tone to his voice. He wasn't mocking me, he wasn't asking a question, it was more a statement. Not in a rude way though, just out of wonder.

"What?! NO! It's way too early for anything like that. And also, I mean. Look at me and look at him? It would never ever work so what's the point?" I defended myself quickly. "Pffffttt, don't make me laugh Horan." I winked, whilst whispering in return.

"What do you mean look at you? You're stunning. And oh, I see. That's why you're blushing like a bloody tomato then, is it?" he chuckled cheekily. I rose my hands up swiftly to my flushed cheeks and I could feel them burning red. Uuuuuuurrrrrrgggghhhhh. Why do I blush so fucking easily? Mortified.

Half an hour later, they'd finally all managed to follow Harry's lead, grow balls and take their sunglasses off. They were all pretty much perfection but none of them made me feel the same way as I did with Harry. Weird. I couldn't actually like him this early though? Hmm.

What felt like a few moments to me, passed by quickly. It was now half one though so it must have been a lot longer than I had anticipated. It sounded dead cheesy but I was kind of lost in Harry's deep, heavenly gold-tinted green orbs. He was unbelievably delicious. Anyway, we had started talking about my singing again. This tied my stomach in knots and I wanted to change the subject...

"So, do you take singing lessons?" Zayn asked in a soothing, yet husky voice.

"No," my voice cracked, my eyes welled up, a tear was going to fall but I pulled myself together to finish my sentence. "I can't really afford them at the minute. I'm sorta...erm, saving up for something." I finished. My lips were trembling slightly and I felt myself about to bawl. I closed my eyes for a split second and focused on a past memory of me and my mother in a park playing frisbee. This made me feel better, well enough so that I could stop myself from crying. I sniffed.

"I'm so sorry! Have I upset you?" Zayn shot me a concerned look.

"Now look what you've done!" Harry nudged Zayn, with a harsh matter in his tone.

"No, no, no!" I repeated, interrupting them quickly. It wasn't their fault, they shouldn't start arguing. "It's not you, it's just..." I swallowed. I felt bad for being upset that I couldn't afford singing lessons. My mother was 100x more important than them, but now I'd made myself feel guilty, Good one, Scar.

"C'mon. We're your friends now. You can open up about these things. I mean, blatantly if you don't wanna talk about it then that's absolutely fine. But we are here for you and we'll do the best we can to help."Harry smiled. I'd never spoken about the whole situation to anyone before, maybe that's why I had always been such an emotional wreck.

"Okay, here goes. When I was in my mum's tummy, about three months in, my father left. He told my mum he couldn't cope and took off, I guess. Mum never went into much detail about it, I could see the pain in her eyes when I ever brought up the subject, so after a while I just let it go.

She's been lonely for ages now, then she was getting stressed about many things and the fact she was so alone didn't help. So, a few weeks ago, everything got too much and she had a really bad heart attack.

There's only one operation, a risky one at that, that has a small chance of getting her better. They say it's probably not even going to work, but I have to at least try. She's all I've got you know?" Tears were now falling down my face and creating a little puddle on the table. The boys all gave me sympathetic looks, but kept silent. They were stroking my hands with theirs while waiting for me to continue.

"Anyway, the operations £30,000. It's ridiculous for something that's life risking. She means more to me than any kind of money, though." They each gave me a tight squeeze and apologised before they had to leave. I strolled into the kitchen to start clearing up, and when I returned to the table I noticed a bit of paper in the middle of where One Direction and I were sitting. It was a note which read:

We need to meet up again soon! You're so lovely! Wanna meet tomorrow for lunch? We'll text you the detes yeah? We all love you. We've truly sorry about your mother. We hope this operation works because it must be so hard for you it has to be worth a try.
Love Harry, Zayn, Lou, Niall and L x x x

Attached to it was a cheque made out to Miss Scarlett Jones for £30,000. OH MY GOD.

Notes