Perfect To Me
In A Place Like This
“Abby are you ready to go yet?! We only have so much day light!” I yelled as I laid on the hotel bed in Italy.
“Shut your trap, Styles! I’m done,” Abby said as she walked out of the bathroom looking stunning. “Is this outfit okay?” She asked, flattening her shirt a bit.
“You look beautiful. You don’t have to ask for my permission on every outfit. I’m not gonna get jealous anymore,” I told her as I pulled her into my chest and placed my lips on top of hers.
“I know, I know,” she said as she playfully hit my chest. “Are you ready to go see some more sights?” She asked and I let out a dramatic sigh of relief.
“I’ve BEEN ready, babe,” I said to her and practically dragged her out of our room and down to the streets of Italy.
“Do want to grab some coffee?” I asked her as we strolled along the streets of Verona.
“Please. Can we go to that cute little café that’s a few blocks east of the hotel?” Abby asked me as she looked around her, probably looking for a photo to capture.
“Of course, anything you want.”
“Sweet. They have the cutest outdoor set up, it’s so antique it really shows some history of the city. It’d be a great photo,” Abby gushed like a little kid.
“You really enjoy photography, don’t you?” I asked her.
“You have no idea. Taking photos is like waking up as a kid on Christmas morning knowing Santa stopped by,” she said and released a cute little giggle at the end of her sentence which caused her nose to crinkle. “There’s just so much to capture in photos and I love a good challenge.”
“Harry! Abby! Can we get a photo of you two?!” A paparazzi yelled from up the street. It didn’t take long for word to get around that I had accompanied Abby to Italy, and sure enough we were being followed around. I could tell it sort of bothered Abby that our privacy was being invaded, especially since it’s our time. I wish I could say it bothered me but after being photographed everywhere I went I was used to it by now. I let go of Abby’s hand and threw my arm over her shoulder while tucking her into my side.
“Ignore them, love,” I whispered into her ear as we heard more requests from the paps.
“They don’t even have real jobs. They’re paid to stalk people,” she stubbornly said, loud enough for a few to hear.
“I know it’s frustrating but don’t let them ruin a good day. Look at the sky, there isn’t a cloud in it and it’s not too hot, it’s perfect for sight-seeing and capturing all the glory that Verona holds,” I said to her, hoping I’d help cheer her up.
“You’re right, now stay put. I wanna take a photo of the café before we go in it,” Abby mentioned as she stopped me and took a few steps ahead of me. I gave her, her space so she could do her thing and once she snapped a couple photos we walked inside the small shop. Once the café owners saw who I was they temporarily closed the café so Abby and I could have some peace and quiet.
“This is nice,” I said to Abby while letting out a long sigh.
“It is,” she said in between bites of her breakfast sandwich. “They’re food is magnificent as well. Do you wanna try a bite?” Abby offered while holding the food close to my mouth. I smiled at her and leaned forward snatching a bite.
“Yours is better than mine,” I pouted at her and she simply smiled at me while putting one half of her sandwich on my plate then taking the other half of mine.
“There, now ours is equal,” she said while sipping on her coffee and looking around the restaurant. I put my finger forward and poked her nose.
“Thank you,” I said and she crinkled her nose up in the cutest way.
“Look, Harry!” Abby exclaimed while she got up and walked over to a magazine rack and grabbed one of the tabloids. When she sat back down she placed the magazine on the table, “we’re on the front page.”
“What does it say, babe?” I asked her, she’s pretty familiar with Italian, I learned that when we arrived here and she started speaking to the concierge at one of our hotels. Her parents made her take a lot of languages back in high school.
“Well, it’s nothing bad. Just give me a second,” Abby said as she concentrated on the text. I couldn’t help but admire how adorable she looked as she scrunched up her face in concentration. I pulled my phone out and quickly snapped a photo of her without her knowing. I tapped on my Twitter app and quickly composed a new tweet.
@Harry_Styles: Breakfast at small Italian café with my bird. She’s practicing her Italian, @AbbyEGrimeswww.pic.twitter.com/aE67hgy8
“Okay! I’ve decoded the Italian!” Abby exclaimed as she excitedly looked up at me. I gave her a look that said go on, which she did. “Okay, so it’s all good things. They think we’re plotting like a secret marriage or engagement, both false. But other than that it’s just them speaking sweetly about how we look really happy and in love with one another.”
“That’s all?” I asked her and she shook her head no while she took a sip of her coffee.
“It also talks about how they were worried something happened because of those two days we were in a fight they hadn’t seen either of us post on twitter or seen us out and about.”
“Really?” I asked and she nodded her head.
“Isn’t it weird how they pick up on these things?” She pondered but shook it off with the shrug of her shoulders and kept examining the article.
“I like the photos though, we look super cute,” she commented on while turning the magazine so I could see it properly.
“Hey! Those photos are from when we were on the beach in Sicily the other day and we were dancing like fools!” I acknowledged with a chuckle. “They are some good photos.”
“Are you ready to get going? We’ve got a lot to see today,” Abby said while she packed her things up into her bag.
“Yeah, let’s go!” I said as we stood up and quietly told the shop owners thank you and shoved the Italian amount of 100 pounds, each, into their tip jar.
We stepped out onto the streets again and this time less paps were around, out of nowhere Abby dragged me over to a table and signaled for me to sit down.
“Look forward, don’t look at me. Just relax,” she said as she walked behind me with her camera up to her eye, adjusting the lens. Click.
“Perfect!” She exclaimed and when I looked back at her she was excitedly examining the photo she just took.
“Mind if I sneak a peek?” I proposed while walking up to her, and she angled the camera so I could view it as well. It was a lovely photo, and with proper editing it’d look really rich in her gallery. It wasn’t much but it sure did capture a lot.
“Let’s take your talent some more places, shall we?” I asked as I stuck my hand out to her and bowed.
“Why, I thought you’d never ask,” she said in a very poor British accent.
--Several hours later—
“Wanna do something spontaneous?” Abby asked out of nowhere as we walked the streets of Verona at night time.
“I want to say yes but I’m kind of scared,” I said to her with a hint of playfulness in my voice.
“Don’t be, life’s too short to be scared, baby,” Abby said as she wrapped her arms around my waist from my side.
“What’s this idea of yours?” I hesitantly asked.
“Trust me, I know you’ll love it,” she said before dragging me down one of the streets. After walking for what felt like forever we ended up in a tattoo shop.
“You were right, I do love tattoos. But I don’t know if I want one,” I pondered while looking at some of the tattoo samples around the shop.
“Well, I know what I want,” Abby said as she began speaking fluent Italian to the tattoo artist, I’m assuming she was telling him just what she wanted.
“What are you getting, love?” I asked as I walked up behind her.
“I’m getting ‘life is beautiful’ in Italian with a yin yang symbol next to it on my fore arm.”
“Why that?”
“Well, life is truly beautiful no matter what might happen. Everyone is an artist when it comes to their own lives. They sculpt it. And the yin yang sign because the black dot on the white side represents all the bad in the good and the white dot on the black side represents all the good in the bad.”
“That’s beautiful, babe,” I told her as I pecked her on the lips.
“Yeah,” she said while smiling at me. “So what are you going to get?”
“Oh, I don’t know that I’ll get one,” I said to her.
“Harry Styles doesn’t want a tattoo? I’m shocked,” she said while fake gasping. “Just get one,” she said, so nonchalantly.
“Why?”
“You might as well. You’re in Italy, live it up! Sculpt your life and create a memory,” she preached to me and then it hit me.
“Okay, I know what I want,” I said and she shrieked with excitement.
“What is it?” She, impatiently, prodded.
“It’s a surprise,” I told her. This caused her to scowl at me.
“Then I’m going first!” She declared and went to get her tattoo.
After 30 minutes it was my turn to get my tattoo and I wrote the 3 simple words down on a piece of paper and handed it to the guy. He simply nodded and went to trace it onto the appropriate paper. I didn’t allow Abby in the room when I was getting it done and she was impatiently complaining about wanting to see it and how I’m a jerk.
“Alright you impatient turkey! I’m done!” I told her as I walked out while adjusting my shirt.
“What’d you get? What’d you get? WHAT’D YOU GET?!” She asked while jumping up and down.
“Wait until we pay!” I told her and we quickly paid for our tattoos, thanked the man, and walked out of the shop.
“Show me, RIGHT NOW HAROLD EDWARD STYLES!” Abby yelled and to shut her up I lifted my shirt up and pointed to my lower abdomen where the words, “might as well…” were permanently written.
“It’s beautiful, Har,” she said as she rubbed her hand over it.
“You don’t even know its meaning, “ I told her.
“Oh, but I do. That’s what I said to you, I told you, you might as well get a tattoo. To sculpt your life, and you got that reminder in those three words because when you don’t know if you want to do something we all say ‘fuck it, might as well!’ and go on our merry way,” Abby explained as we continued walking down the street to our hotel.
“How do you do that?” I asked her, incredulously.
“Do what, dear?” She asked, while looking around some more.
“Read my fucking mind,” I told her with a smile on my face.
“We’re one in the same,” she said and got on her tippy toes to peck my lips. I quickly moved to keep her head there and deepened the kiss. I stuck my tongue in her mouth and moved my hands to rest on her hips while our tongues fought for dominance.
“Come on, horny pants. Let’s get you in bed,” Abby said as she winked and ran up the street and into the hotel with me chasing after her.
“Shut your trap, Styles! I’m done,” Abby said as she walked out of the bathroom looking stunning. “Is this outfit okay?” She asked, flattening her shirt a bit.
“You look beautiful. You don’t have to ask for my permission on every outfit. I’m not gonna get jealous anymore,” I told her as I pulled her into my chest and placed my lips on top of hers.
“I know, I know,” she said as she playfully hit my chest. “Are you ready to go see some more sights?” She asked and I let out a dramatic sigh of relief.
“I’ve BEEN ready, babe,” I said to her and practically dragged her out of our room and down to the streets of Italy.
“Do want to grab some coffee?” I asked her as we strolled along the streets of Verona.
“Please. Can we go to that cute little café that’s a few blocks east of the hotel?” Abby asked me as she looked around her, probably looking for a photo to capture.
“Of course, anything you want.”
“Sweet. They have the cutest outdoor set up, it’s so antique it really shows some history of the city. It’d be a great photo,” Abby gushed like a little kid.
“You really enjoy photography, don’t you?” I asked her.
“You have no idea. Taking photos is like waking up as a kid on Christmas morning knowing Santa stopped by,” she said and released a cute little giggle at the end of her sentence which caused her nose to crinkle. “There’s just so much to capture in photos and I love a good challenge.”
“Harry! Abby! Can we get a photo of you two?!” A paparazzi yelled from up the street. It didn’t take long for word to get around that I had accompanied Abby to Italy, and sure enough we were being followed around. I could tell it sort of bothered Abby that our privacy was being invaded, especially since it’s our time. I wish I could say it bothered me but after being photographed everywhere I went I was used to it by now. I let go of Abby’s hand and threw my arm over her shoulder while tucking her into my side.
“Ignore them, love,” I whispered into her ear as we heard more requests from the paps.
“They don’t even have real jobs. They’re paid to stalk people,” she stubbornly said, loud enough for a few to hear.
“I know it’s frustrating but don’t let them ruin a good day. Look at the sky, there isn’t a cloud in it and it’s not too hot, it’s perfect for sight-seeing and capturing all the glory that Verona holds,” I said to her, hoping I’d help cheer her up.
“You’re right, now stay put. I wanna take a photo of the café before we go in it,” Abby mentioned as she stopped me and took a few steps ahead of me. I gave her, her space so she could do her thing and once she snapped a couple photos we walked inside the small shop. Once the café owners saw who I was they temporarily closed the café so Abby and I could have some peace and quiet.
“This is nice,” I said to Abby while letting out a long sigh.
“It is,” she said in between bites of her breakfast sandwich. “They’re food is magnificent as well. Do you wanna try a bite?” Abby offered while holding the food close to my mouth. I smiled at her and leaned forward snatching a bite.
“Yours is better than mine,” I pouted at her and she simply smiled at me while putting one half of her sandwich on my plate then taking the other half of mine.
“There, now ours is equal,” she said while sipping on her coffee and looking around the restaurant. I put my finger forward and poked her nose.
“Thank you,” I said and she crinkled her nose up in the cutest way.
“Look, Harry!” Abby exclaimed while she got up and walked over to a magazine rack and grabbed one of the tabloids. When she sat back down she placed the magazine on the table, “we’re on the front page.”
“What does it say, babe?” I asked her, she’s pretty familiar with Italian, I learned that when we arrived here and she started speaking to the concierge at one of our hotels. Her parents made her take a lot of languages back in high school.
“Well, it’s nothing bad. Just give me a second,” Abby said as she concentrated on the text. I couldn’t help but admire how adorable she looked as she scrunched up her face in concentration. I pulled my phone out and quickly snapped a photo of her without her knowing. I tapped on my Twitter app and quickly composed a new tweet.
@Harry_Styles: Breakfast at small Italian café with my bird. She’s practicing her Italian, @AbbyEGrimeswww.pic.twitter.com/aE67hgy8
“Okay! I’ve decoded the Italian!” Abby exclaimed as she excitedly looked up at me. I gave her a look that said go on, which she did. “Okay, so it’s all good things. They think we’re plotting like a secret marriage or engagement, both false. But other than that it’s just them speaking sweetly about how we look really happy and in love with one another.”
“That’s all?” I asked her and she shook her head no while she took a sip of her coffee.
“It also talks about how they were worried something happened because of those two days we were in a fight they hadn’t seen either of us post on twitter or seen us out and about.”
“Really?” I asked and she nodded her head.
“Isn’t it weird how they pick up on these things?” She pondered but shook it off with the shrug of her shoulders and kept examining the article.
“I like the photos though, we look super cute,” she commented on while turning the magazine so I could see it properly.
“Hey! Those photos are from when we were on the beach in Sicily the other day and we were dancing like fools!” I acknowledged with a chuckle. “They are some good photos.”
“Are you ready to get going? We’ve got a lot to see today,” Abby said while she packed her things up into her bag.
“Yeah, let’s go!” I said as we stood up and quietly told the shop owners thank you and shoved the Italian amount of 100 pounds, each, into their tip jar.
We stepped out onto the streets again and this time less paps were around, out of nowhere Abby dragged me over to a table and signaled for me to sit down.
“Look forward, don’t look at me. Just relax,” she said as she walked behind me with her camera up to her eye, adjusting the lens. Click.
“Perfect!” She exclaimed and when I looked back at her she was excitedly examining the photo she just took.
“Mind if I sneak a peek?” I proposed while walking up to her, and she angled the camera so I could view it as well. It was a lovely photo, and with proper editing it’d look really rich in her gallery. It wasn’t much but it sure did capture a lot.
“Let’s take your talent some more places, shall we?” I asked as I stuck my hand out to her and bowed.
“Why, I thought you’d never ask,” she said in a very poor British accent.
--Several hours later—
“Wanna do something spontaneous?” Abby asked out of nowhere as we walked the streets of Verona at night time.
“I want to say yes but I’m kind of scared,” I said to her with a hint of playfulness in my voice.
“Don’t be, life’s too short to be scared, baby,” Abby said as she wrapped her arms around my waist from my side.
“What’s this idea of yours?” I hesitantly asked.
“Trust me, I know you’ll love it,” she said before dragging me down one of the streets. After walking for what felt like forever we ended up in a tattoo shop.
“You were right, I do love tattoos. But I don’t know if I want one,” I pondered while looking at some of the tattoo samples around the shop.
“Well, I know what I want,” Abby said as she began speaking fluent Italian to the tattoo artist, I’m assuming she was telling him just what she wanted.
“What are you getting, love?” I asked as I walked up behind her.
“I’m getting ‘life is beautiful’ in Italian with a yin yang symbol next to it on my fore arm.”
“Why that?”
“Well, life is truly beautiful no matter what might happen. Everyone is an artist when it comes to their own lives. They sculpt it. And the yin yang sign because the black dot on the white side represents all the bad in the good and the white dot on the black side represents all the good in the bad.”
“That’s beautiful, babe,” I told her as I pecked her on the lips.
“Yeah,” she said while smiling at me. “So what are you going to get?”
“Oh, I don’t know that I’ll get one,” I said to her.
“Harry Styles doesn’t want a tattoo? I’m shocked,” she said while fake gasping. “Just get one,” she said, so nonchalantly.
“Why?”
“You might as well. You’re in Italy, live it up! Sculpt your life and create a memory,” she preached to me and then it hit me.
“Okay, I know what I want,” I said and she shrieked with excitement.
“What is it?” She, impatiently, prodded.
“It’s a surprise,” I told her. This caused her to scowl at me.
“Then I’m going first!” She declared and went to get her tattoo.
After 30 minutes it was my turn to get my tattoo and I wrote the 3 simple words down on a piece of paper and handed it to the guy. He simply nodded and went to trace it onto the appropriate paper. I didn’t allow Abby in the room when I was getting it done and she was impatiently complaining about wanting to see it and how I’m a jerk.
“Alright you impatient turkey! I’m done!” I told her as I walked out while adjusting my shirt.
“What’d you get? What’d you get? WHAT’D YOU GET?!” She asked while jumping up and down.
“Wait until we pay!” I told her and we quickly paid for our tattoos, thanked the man, and walked out of the shop.
“Show me, RIGHT NOW HAROLD EDWARD STYLES!” Abby yelled and to shut her up I lifted my shirt up and pointed to my lower abdomen where the words, “might as well…” were permanently written.
“It’s beautiful, Har,” she said as she rubbed her hand over it.
“You don’t even know its meaning, “ I told her.
“Oh, but I do. That’s what I said to you, I told you, you might as well get a tattoo. To sculpt your life, and you got that reminder in those three words because when you don’t know if you want to do something we all say ‘fuck it, might as well!’ and go on our merry way,” Abby explained as we continued walking down the street to our hotel.
“How do you do that?” I asked her, incredulously.
“Do what, dear?” She asked, while looking around some more.
“Read my fucking mind,” I told her with a smile on my face.
“We’re one in the same,” she said and got on her tippy toes to peck my lips. I quickly moved to keep her head there and deepened the kiss. I stuck my tongue in her mouth and moved my hands to rest on her hips while our tongues fought for dominance.
“Come on, horny pants. Let’s get you in bed,” Abby said as she winked and ran up the street and into the hotel with me chasing after her.
teressa conroy said the quote
3/2/15