#locationx

Harry: I’m almost there, how about you? Aimee: I just finished parking, I thought I was running a bit late. Harry: I had to get the paps off me before I could be private.

I went in and looked for a table for us somewhere in the back. I already knew what I wanted to order for the both of us, since dim sum was meant to be shared. I saw him walk in and I tried to wave him down without making myself too noticeable to others in the restaurant. He was wearing a white shirt and some pink flared trousers and a long brown jacket. He was more fashionable than I was, sometimes he would send me pictures of his boots, I would send him photos of my mine (which usually were from old navy or target). Or if we were both wearing vans we’d send a photo of our footwear. HE was so utterly handsome, like classic handsome. Nice jawline, beautiful cheek bones, nice pink lips. He was scruffy but not as much as Jamaica.

              “Hey,” We said in unison as he sat down in the booth, I could feel butterflies in my stomach, I suddenly felt shy. I shouldn’t feel shy, right? We’d been talking for almost a month, about everything. The last week was the most he’s open about what he did – but I probably knew more about him than most of his fans. Maybe it was because seeing him again felt unreal, he was right there in front of me, live in the flesh, his knuckles were still blushing, his dimples were very present from smiling, and I couldn’t help but to feel warm from just that.

              “I already ordered for us,” I spoke up as he was taking his jacket off, I’d had yet to do that, I still felt a bit chilly from being closer the a/c. “I hope that’s okay. I just wanted to get what’s good here.”

              “It’s totally okay, makes it a lot easier.” He folded his hands on the table. It’s weird how now we’re both at a loss of words, I wanted to say something, but I didn’t know what to say. “Is it okay if I tell you that you’re beautiful – or should I wait a bit?”

              “No, it’s okay,” I laughed and became very aware of myself, I was pushing the star hairs behind my ears, my ears were probably burning red on top as well.

              “Well, you’re quite beautiful, more beautiful than I was imagining.” I could feel myself blushing and I took a drink of water, so I could cool myself off.

              “Thanks, Harry.” He was smirking, I kept trying to focus on memorizing his face, I had attempted to draw it a few days ago but scrapped it because I knew I didn’t get his features right. Our food was brought over, and I felt relieved that something would distract the both of us. “I really hope you like it, this is first place I came after I got super comfortable with food.” Harry nodded, I wanted to punch myself for being so open about that, but I wasn’t ashamed about what I went through, it’s just not the best thing to bring up during dinner.

              “Well that’s good that you’re comfortable with food, again” I felt so awkward about saying that, it was true though. I would come here a lot as a kid because my moms liked to eat here.

              “I wish I didn’t say anything,” I admitted as Harry dished me up a few pot stickers. He was shaking his head as if nothing was wrong.

              “S’fine, I got the gist of what you’re trying to tell me. When did it end, if you don’t mind me prying?” He was looking at me before I started to get my chopsticks ready to eat.

              “I was in high school, I didn’t feel comfortable with myself, like in all aspects. My sexuality, my body, how I talked, even my parents. I just hated it. I have no idea why. So, I tried to fix things I could so, I would eat a lot less, then just sorta stopped at one point.” I shrugged, and I felt Harry’s eyes on me. “Please don’t feel bad, I grew a lot from that! I have a good support group around me, and I love food, I do.”

              “I can tell you’ve grown, but still pings me a bit to know you were sufferin’” His features were soft, and I felt super warm about his comment, my family has told me a lot of the same things, I had no idea why it was different from Harry. “I’m glad you can open up to me like that, like, a lot of the people I’m around now, I just know the surface, and with you, I feel like I know a lot, I just wanna keep knowing more.” I could feel my face blushing, it probably didn’t help that the dumplings were making my cheeks full. We finished eating, chatting about how high school was for each other, and what he would be doing if music wasn’t there. He insisted that he paid and didn’t even let me see the bill.

              “Do you wanna go back to my place?” I whispered to him as we walked through the busy streets of Chinatown, I didn’t want him to hear me, I just wanted to say it so say I said it.

              “Yeah, I had a driver drop me off, so I’d love to go back to your place.” So, we did, Harry said he liked how I listened to Jazz music while I was driving, and we talked probably way too long about Miles Davis. Then I remembered my apartment, it was decent, like it was decent for me but not for company. I was at the door shaking about how he’d feel about a bit of clutter.

              “Sorry about the mess, it’s been a busy week.” I was picking up papers, moving around pens and pencils. Harry was toeing off his vans and hanging his coat on my coat rack. I quickly did the same, before going back and cleaning up my mess.

              “Just looks like someone lives here,” He laughed as he tried to help me. Then there was the fucking drawing of him I did. I was just trying to remember what he looked like, I could feel myself get hot. “This me?” He touched at it, I had a thing for doing realism, so I tried to make it look as real as possible – but I couldn’t remember certain features.

              “Ah, um,” I couldn’t find the words, I was trying to reach for it, but he was swatting at my hands. “It’s just, I was trying to remember what you looked like, and drawing helps.”

              “S’good!” He laughed before handing it over to me. “You’re quite embarrassed, please don’t be, if I could draw, I’d draw you for days.”

              “Shut up,” I blushed moving my pile to another pile on my desk. He was on my couch now. I sat across from him in another chair, I didn’t know if I should ask if he wanted water or not. I kept trying to open my mouth to ask him, but nothing would come out. Harry moved closer to me, from one end of the couch to another.

              “You’re so nervous, pet.” He was looking at me and I was blushing hard, I wasn’t like this, but he had some type of spell on me, I swear.

              “I know, I hate it.” I laughed and reached to pull down my hair, maybe my hair would be better to play with than a stray string on my dress. “You make me nervous, because I talk to you all day, all night, and this is the second time I’ve physically seen you. It’s nerve racking to know that you know so much about me, more than my best friend, and we’ve seen each other twice. It’s just, I don’t know how to explain it.”

              “Vulnerable?” He asked, I nodded and was twirling my fingers in my hair. “I don’t answer interview questions, ever. I’m very private, I wouldn’t tell you things about me if I didn’t want you to hear it. I trust you, and like you said, I’ve seen you twice. I keep having these dreams, and you’re there, but I can never make out your face, but you know my next move. I don’t know if I should be scared by that either. Maybe it’s a good thing? I’m trusting someone hard who isn’t my best friend, and my best friend is my manager. I’m trusting someone who could tell the press about me, but she didn’t even know who I was the first time we met. I’m scared too, pet. Nervous as all hell. I changed three times before seeing you.” He finished, and I felt like if I spoke a butterfly would fly up my throat.

              “You’re way better at words than I am.” I looked at him, his legs were crossed and his body was pointing towards me – I read that if they’re pointing towards you, it’s a good thing.

              “Can I be honest with you, I have been, but blunt honesty.” I nodded at him, he was running his fingers through my hair and looking around before he found the right words. “I don’t want what I’m about to ask to change any of this okay?”

              “Okay.” He inhaled, his nose flaring and I was scared about his question.

              “I trust you, entirely. I communicate with you better than anyone else.” He paused, I was getting really nervous, I was scared he was going to ask something about being his girlfriend – I wasn’t ready for that at all. “Sexually, I’m very private, and I’m into things that’s hard to find in most women. The last person I had they moved on to someone else because we both had gotten busy. I know you mentioned how with your last few partners you’ve been the one in charge, but you take care of everyone, you talk about taking care of your friends, helping out your parents, I want to take care of you. I’m not asking you to be my girlfriend, if you want that, we can work up that. But I’m asking you to be my sub, you can say no.”

              “Your what?” I was bit baffled, it was a lot to drop on me at once. He wanted me sexually. I knew a very good amount about the BDSM community, but I couldn’t see Harry as one. (Definitely don’t judge a book by it’s cover). “Like what does that mean, I know what a sub is, but what does it mean to you?” He had moved to sit on my coffee table, dead in front of me.

              “I think you know the sex part, but I would want to take care of you, a few of my kinks carry outside the bedroom, but I feel like that connection is there with us, again you can say no.”

              “You’re not just going to use me for sex?”

              “No, I don’t want you just for sex. I crave intimacy, Amelia, and I want that with you. I want to blow your mind, give you a break once and awhile. You can still say no.”

              “Harry, I’m trying to get an understanding of what all you want from me, stop telling me I can say no, I know I can say no.” I laughed, and he grinned at me. He was looking around some more, he was pulling at his rings as he was looking for an answer.

              “I want you to open up to me, you’re doing that now, I want to be the person you’re completely loyal to without having the titles except between us. There’s no dynamic except I take charge and there are things I expect from you, I like a good girl, you seem like you wouldn’t want to press my buttons too much. I would want to make sure you’re happy, with everything – I would want to take care of you.” He’s looking me dead in the eye, he was super intense, and hot. Like it was very hot how intense he was being. We’ve talked about sex, briefly. He said he liked to be in charge, I said I always one to be in charge because the people I was with liked that about me. I was very dominate in my everyday life, so maybe being a submissive in one aspect of my life would give me a break, time to just be taken care of.

              “Okay, but I hate like foot play.”

              “Ruining the mood, but okay, we can go over all that before we play. I’m thinking how much I want to kiss your lips.” He pulled me into his lap. And I was thinking about how much weight my coffee table could support. Thankfully, he’s a mindreading, spell casting, witch, and moved us to my kitchen counter. The perks of a loft, all rooms in one place.

              “Why couldn’t we just make out on the couch?” I asked as he was rubbing his hand at my thighs. He was standing between me, looking sexier than ever. He had a mole, quite a few, and I kept trying to focus on that since he hadn’t answered me.

              “I like you on my level when I’m standing,” He spoke against my neck, finally. I remembered from our kiss in Jamaica that he liked to hold my face, his hands were moving up towards me and I’m assuming he’s getting ready to kiss me. He smelt really good too, expensive, I kept thinking about the night we met, and I was getting giddy all over again. His mouth took over mine, it tasted minty. I missed his lips and this was the second time I got to have them. I’ve had them a million times over in my dreams but now, this is different. Our kisses will be more frequent now, more urgent. He was taking it slow, licking at my bottom lip, letting his teeth graze. I really enjoyed kissing Harry, I enjoyed how he would moan against my mouth if I sucked on his bottom lip just right. Or how he would make a little pop noise before he would release.

My mind wondered to the idea of being his sub, this probably wasn’t even a sample. My friend Riley is a sub for some rich guy, talks about how many spankings she gets. I like that idea, I had a girl who would spank me often then have me take control of her – weird confusing dynamic. Harry wears rings, I thought about how cold they might be on my ass. Or how he would feel about my nipple piercings. I hope he would like them, maybe he would. He pulled away and rested his forehead on my own. My mind was going wild.

Amelia: It’s the best, sadly their menu is seasonal, so my favorite thing is in the summer only. Harry: That’s no good, you’ll have to take me sometime. Amelia: I keep talking about food, sorry. Harry: It’s okay, it’s not like my normal texts I receive. Amelia: What’s a ‘normal’ text to you. Harry: Asking me for something, usually. Amelia: That sucks, what do you do? Harry: I’m in music. I wondered what type of music he played, I didn’t want to pry too much since I only told him I was an artist – he hadn’t asked to see my work, so I’ll wait until he asks me. It was lunch, I saw that I missed a few texts from him. We were raving about our favorite things, from flowers, chocolates – to now talking about the correct things that go on a hamburger.

Harry: Bacon, but the bacon I’m used to – not what you Americans are. Harry: Good cheese too, I love a good cheese. Harry: Are not replying because you agree or because you’re busy? Harry: I sound needy, sorry ‘bout that.” Amelia: Sorry! I was working lol. Harry: I forgot you were working, my fault, love. I’ll let you get back to it. Amelia: I’m on lunch, so I’m free until I ghost you. Harry: Don’t joke about ghosting me, I enjoy talking to you. Amelia: How’s Jamaica? Harry: Harry dropped a pin in New York City, New York Harry: Not there anymore. Amelia: Wow! World traveler, you are. Harry: Ha! I wish it was for pleasure. Amelia: Still more fun than Los Angeles. I’d love to live in New York, can’t bring myself to move away from my family.

I had found my favorite food truck up the street, I’d been tracking them for the last month and they were gonna be right by the museum. They made these fancy sandwiches, always toasted, always fresh bread – couldn’t resist. Harry was good at texting, there were times we’d ghost each other, but usually he would make it up to me. Our time zones were so far apart so calling wasn’t an option. Though, I would love to hear his voice again – northwest was where his accent was located. I had spent about an hour listening to the accents of England, which was weird for me – I’m just used to Americans. It could be why I was very light on the subject of calling him, once and while he would send me a voice memo – usually at night. He made it a ‘thing’ for us. I would send him one usually me saying ‘goodnight, Harry. Sweet dreams.” And he would send one back, longer, telling me about the moon outside, or give a pause and let me hear the ocean against the phone. I had a feeling he was romantic, I didn’t hate it. He was in music. I wondered what he did, if he was a singer, couldn’t be drums – his hands were too soft. His fingers were a bit callused, so maybe guitar.

Harry: I get what you mean, I hate being away from my family. Amelia: Tell me about your family. Harry: My parents are divorced, I’m really close to my mother. I have a sister, I’m close with her too. My mother is remarried to an amazing man, love him to bits. Amelia: I don’t get how people can’t be close to their families. Harry: I agree, what’s your family like? Amelia: I was adopted as a baby, so I have two amazing mothers, and our dogs. If I could say my animals are my siblings, I would. Harry: Ha! Cats would be my siblings. Amelia: Cats are sneaky, but I like that about them. Harry: Right? They surprise you with affection. But look, I’m going to ghost you for a bit. I’m sorry. Amelia: It’s okay! I’m going back to work anyway.

I felt like the work day went by quickly, usually I took my lunch as late as possible, so I could only have a few hours left until I needed to leave. I bid my goodbyes to my coworkers before dealing with the traffic. I lived in Santa Monica, I loved it, it was the busyness of the city but with a more relaxed vibe. I lived above a restaurant (very fitting of me) in a loft. Unfinished artwork cluttering the living space and my bed taking up the corner by the window. I liked waking up the crashing of the ocean, the sunrise being my personal alarm clock. I was making myself some dinner when a dig went off.

Harry: How was work? Amelia: It was work. How was work for you? Harry: It was also work. Are you free to call? Amelia: Yeah!

I ran to find my headphones somewhere in this apartment. I could hear my phone ringing. I answered it before my headphones where untangled.

“One second,” I huffed as I set the phone down on the counter and finished getting the knot out. I plugged it in and tried to compose myself as I tucked my phone into my pocket. “Sorry about that!”

              “It’s no problem.” He chuckled, I liked it. I liked actually hearing him rather than a ‘lol’ or a ‘HA!’ as he liked to send. “What are you doing?”

              “I’m cooking dinner, what about you?” I suddenly felt nervous, it was just a phone call. We’ve been texting for the last two weeks. I knew a lot of the surface things about him, we’d only really get intimate on the audio messages he’d send me. I was trying not make too much noise as I was cooking, quietly cutting carrots putting everything in bowls so I can have one loud part of the call.

              “What are you cooking? It’s about six for you, right?” He ignored my question which was funny to me, he really didn’t like talking about himself, he always wanted to know what I was doing, how I slept, but I wanted to know the same things.

              “Stir fry with noodles, and yes it’s about six thirty. What are you doing?” I asked again, I wanted to mostly hear him.

              “That sounds delicious. I just got back to my hotel.”

              “Hmm, how’s the big apple treating you?”

              “Crisp. Very crisp.”

              “Sounds like a good apple to me.” I tried to quietly cook food in a pan hoping it wouldn’t bother him too much. “I’m sorry it’s so loud.”

              “It doesn’t bother me, not one bit.” Of course, it doesn’t, I felt like I was apologizing too much.

              “Okay good, what did you do today. And before you ask me, I just worked. I was thinking later about riding my bike down the pier.” I heard him chuckle, I really liked hearing that.

              “I had a few business meetings about my album, mostly. I had lunch with a few friends.”

              “Where did you have lunch?”

              “Some café, I can’t be bothered with the name, it wasn’t that great.”

              “I’m sorry your lunch sucked, ruins the day until dinner.” I was finally done cooking and was sitting down to eat. I felt more uncomfortable about eating on the phone. The idea that the microphone was right by my mouth, and I was eating noodles and it was going to be slurpy, I hated it. “Did you still want to stay on the phone with me even if I was eating?” I was hoping for a no, then he would call me back or something.

              “I’m fine with that.” Oh, fucking Christ. I hummed into the phone and I could hear a creek from his side. “Sorry, I just needed to lay back, didn’t notice how loud the bed was.” We both laughed, and my mouth was full of food, so I was trying not to talk, or chew loudly. “I’ll talk while you eat. I know you live in California since you use that stupid ‘find your friends’ app and your location is shared with me. I’ll be coming out in a few days, I was thinking we could do something together, something low key.”

              “As long as you don’t stalk me anymore, I’ll do it.”

              “I can’t help that iPhones share your every move with me. I had to turn mine off, I had it on that night in Jamaica because I wander when I’m drunk.”

              “I can see that; my friends and I use it for tinder dates.”

              “Are you on tinder?” I coughed from laughing. “I’m taking that as a no, you don’t seem the type.”

              “I’m not, my friends just go on these random dates and it’s easier to get a location and a codeword rather than just guessing.”

              “I’m assuming you save everyone then?”

              “Sometimes, I’m usually have more free time than them.” I shrugged, he wouldn’t see it. My friends were very much actively dating, while I just liked to sit and talk with people before dating them. Though, I feel like Harry just asked me on a date, or did he ask me to hang out. “Did you ask me on a date or to hang out?”

              “Um,”

              “Shit, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have asked that.”

              “It can be a date if you want it to be.”

              “No, I just. It’s not that I wouldn’t want to go on a date with you, it’s just I’d rather hang out first.” He was laughing, like a really deep laugh. I remembered he had dimples, and I imagined them being there while he was laughing. “God, I’m nervous talking to you if you want me to be honest.” I was putting my bowl in the sink.

              “I would like for you to be honest with me.” I started slipping on my shoes, I figured that I could go on a walk while were on the phone. It was better than doing random shit around the house while we were on the phone. “I’m quite nervous too.”

              “Why are you nervous?” I heard him exhale and suck on his teeth. “I’m nervous because I haven’t been, I guess I would use this word, intimate with a man in a while. Women? All day, but it’s different with a man.” I tended to enjoy the company of a woman rather than a man, I was a bit more masculine than most women, just my mannerisms, the way I dress, how I deal with things. It was hard finding a man who was fitting for the femininity I was searching for and always found in other women.

              “Hm, I guess the best way to put it is, you make me feel so normal. You probably think you bore me with your little mundane updates, but I quite enjoy them.” It felt good to know I didn’t bore him. “Do you prefer only women, I don’t mean to pry.”

              “No, I don’t really have a preference.”

              “Me neither, I think the idea of knowing someone completely and fully before even getting intimate.”

              “Me too,” We were in silence for a bit, I was walking around the pier. “What do you do, I know you’re in music, but what do you do?”

              “I was in a band, I’ve gone solo now.”

              “What band, if you don’t mind me asking.” I heard a chuckled from him.

              “You really don’t know, do you?”

              “Should I really know? I’m shit at listening to new music.”

              “No, no, I love that you don’t know.”

              “Are you going to tell me?”

              “One Direction.” I couldn’t help but to laugh, I couldn’t place him in a boy group like that. “What’s funny?”

              “I’m more of an N*Sync girl myself. I was placing you in an entire metal band.”

              “Sorry, I was in Nine Inch Nails,” He laughed, and I couldn’t help but laugh with him.

              “I’m more of a Deftones fan, but that’ll work too.”

              “I’m shocked you don’t know. I loved being in that group, it was amazing, but having people who just have no idea who I am is great.”

              “I’m still listening to Celebrity by N*Sync, so I’ll make some room to fit your music into there.”

              “Tell me what you think, honest opinions only.”

              “I’ll put in on my work playlist.”

              “What do you do at work?”

              “Oh! I restore paintings. Like old paintings.”

              “That’s cool, so you work at the museum or this a private practice.”

              “Well it’s a private practice so I’m contracted by the museum, mostly.”

              “That’s quite a cool job, do you do your own art?”

              “Yeah, I mainly post it on Instagram.” I started to find my way back home, the sun was going to be setting soon and I would rather be in my loft watching it. Harry hadn’t responded for quite some time, but I saw that he was still on the phone. I suddenly got a notification.

@harrystyles started following

“How’d you find that so quickly, oh my god?”

              “Your phone number you, nut.” I laughed, mostly because I’ve called him a nut a few times, to hear him say out loud was hilarious to me.

              “Don’t call me a nut, you’re a nut.” I giggled, there were a few times we’d just sit in silence on the phone, I didn’t mind it at all. I’m not a huge fan of talking on the phone, my moms would always call me on speaker when they were cooking or watching TV, or Lucy would call me when she’s rushing around her apartment asking me if I was coming out or not. Harry just wanted to talk. So, we did, we talked until the sun went down. I’m assuming it’s still sunny for him. We talked about how we were in high school, I was just a year younger than him. He was way more successful than I was. We talked about the music we liked, and got on the subject on best rapper which we had an agreement it was Kendrick, all the way.

I told him about the time I went to Coachella and saw him, he asked if I wore a crazy outfit – which I didn’t. We walked more about our families, about how we both have a mother named Anne, his was Anne, mine was Ann. He told me about his sister, and the article she wrote about him.

              “I was bursting into tears, I really did.” He told me.

We were talking about movies, he told me he was in one that should be coming out soon – though, he couldn’t give me the details about it. We talked about our pets, his cat dusty. He told me how we wanted a hairless cat, which I told him was an awful want. It was around nine for me, and I was growing tired, still from the trip, and knowing that I was going to be up at six am.

              “You’re yawning,” He hummed into the phone, he’d just finished dinner, a burger, with fries, all the extras on the burger. “I should let you sleep,”

              “Ugh, I’ve just enjoyed talking to you,” My phone was dying, and I was trying to rush to my bed to put it on the charger.

              “I’ve enjoyed talking to you too, nut.”

              “Hey, now, I can take it all back.” He was chuckling. I imagine him laying back on these big fluffy pillows, the sheets were probably all white. I imagined him in jeans, maybe a white tee. He smelt good the night I met him, very expensive. It was weird how it was all coming back to me. I was looking up at the ceiling, I bet he was doing the same thing. We both were breathing on the phone, maybe he was thinking about what I was doing too. “What are you thinking about?”

              “I had dream last night, about Jamaica, I was very drunk the night I met you, but I could remember your face. I’m just trying to piece it in my head, it’s been awhile.” I hummed, that was too sweet.

              “I was drunk too, I remember the way you smelled, which is weird.”

              “S‘not weird, s’not at all.”

              “You have dimples right, I’m not just making that up?”

              “Yeah, you want me to take a picture of myself and send it to you?”

              “No, I’ll ruin the excitement until I see you again.”

              “I like that idea.”

              “I won’t even look at your Instagram, I don’t have photos of myself on there, so you can look at mine.”

              “No listening to my old band, the covers have me on it.”

              “Deal.” I hummed and closed my eyes. I could see us, dancing and giggling. It was really hot that day, it rained the next. I could smell the ocean, maybe it was because my bed was next to the window.

              “I’m going to be honest with you, Amelia.” He liked calling me that instead of Aimee, he said it suited me. “I’m scared once you find out all about me, you’re not going to want to hang out with me anymore. I’m scared once we start hanging out, the media knows your name, the internet knows this sweet little woman – they’ll rip you apart. You’re so normal and I want that, but that’s not me. I’m actually quite jealous. You can get gas on your own, you can grocery shop without anyone bothering you.”

              “I guess there’s upsides to being a nobody. But don’t envy me, green doesn’t look good on you.”

              “How would you know, green looks great on me.”

              “Shut up, oh my god.” We were laughing again. “I’m tired.”

              “I know you are, and I’m being selfish by keeping you on the phone.”

              “Shush, I’m going to hang up, we can do this again tomorrow. I promise.”

              “Okay, Amelia.” I hadn’t hung up, I was hoping he would hang up on me, maybe end this. I didn’t want to be the one to hang up. “Neither of us are going to hang up? Hm, I can’t wait to see you, you pick the time and the place, and I’m all yours. I can pull some strings to get some privacy.”

              “Hmm, you said you’re here next week?” I was rolled up in my bed, I could knock out any second. “How about next Thursday, one of my favorite days of the week.”

              “Thursday is your favorite day of the week?”

              “Friday Eve.” He chuckled.

              “Okay, I’ll be there, Petal, Thursday, pick a time. But sleep first.” I hummed into the phone. “Sweet dreams, Amelia.”

              “What’s your sign?” He asked, and I bunched up my nose to suppress an laugh, a very 90’s pick up line.

              “Libra, ten days before Halloween,” I answered, and he rose one of his eyebrows with a smirk.

              “Witchy.”

I’m gonna blame it on the gin next, the next few drinks were up to him. I wasn’t a fan of gin but if it kept him talking, I’ll suck it up. The air was thick and humid around us, I felt sticky, he was touching my knee, he felt sticky, I was touching his arm. I was hoping this led to a cool story I could tell my kids one day, he was kissing my neck. I’m blaming the music now, we’re on the dancefloor, our hips are grinding against each other as slow R&B music played around us. He wasn’t a good dancer, neither was I.

              “Can I have your number?” He asked pulling out his phone. “I hope you have international.”

              “Of course,” I grinned taking his phone and imputing his number. “I’m Amelia by the way, I prefer Aimee.”

              “Harry,” He grinned looking at me confused. “You don’t know who I am?” I handed his phone back to me and I shook my head.

              “Am I supposed to know?”

              “No, I’d rather show you instead.” I giggled and started shaking my head. I needed to get back to my friends. I was only a few blocks from my hotel.

              “Listen, Harry, I gotta get back to my friends.”

              “I’ll walk you.” I nodded, I wasn’t going to push a no out of my mouth. Maybe because it wasn’t sitting on my tongue like a ‘yes’ was. The air was salty from the ocean. We walked in silence, fingers tips dancing against each other, teasing the innocent act of holding hands. The golden light of the street lights and the moon being the only way I could focus on his face. He had a nice profile, I could draw it all day. I hope I woke up to remember it, perfect lines of his nose, plushy rosey lips. I was focusing on his hand now, his knuckles were blushing, as if they were taking place of his cheeks. I felt myself blushing thinking they were blushing because he wanted to touch me.

I wasn’t normally like this, again, it’s the gin. It’s the warm rum sitting in my stomach, it’s the moonlight, it’s the streetlights, it’s the R&B music. It’s not us. It’s not me. We reached the hotel, my eyes itching to look at his lips, he was licking them. His hair was messy on his head, a few curls sticking to the sweat on his forehead.

              “This is me,” I broke the bubble, maybe I shouldn’t have. Maybe I should have let it disintegrate naturally like bubbles do. He smirked, he was sexy, I could see he was tired.

              “This is you,” I couldn’t pin point where his accent was from in the U.K. maybe I should listen to all of them youtube until I find it and lock into a place in my brain. “I’m gonna kiss you, because if I forget to text you, I can remember a kiss.” Smooth. Maybe not a smooth as butter, but still smooth.

              “Okay,” His lips took over mine. His gin-soaked lips, tasted like lemon. It was burning, like the shots we took. Our lips knew each other in a past life, I could predict his next move as if I was good as chess. His hands were on my face now, mine around his neck. Then it stopped. He was looking at me, he has green eyes. Of course, he does, no one like this could have boring brown eyes like me.

              “I’ll text you,” I nodded at his words, and his hands moved off my face. I was biting at my lip, maybe clinging on to his past kiss. I didn’t know what I was doing, I’ll be blaming it on everything but myself in the morning. I watched him walk away from me, he was tall, like a foot above me. Maybe less than that, still tall nonetheless. I felt jittery, my sundress was clinging to my torso, were we standing that close, so I would sweat there? Maybe it was the dancing, I’ll blame the dancing. This is one for the books, I wasn’t normally like this.