"AHHHH!"

"Harry?!" I jump around, dreading the amount of blood I'm about to encounter.

"Kid-ding," Harry smiles innocently, wiggling his fingers in the air.

"You're terrible!" I grin unwillingly.

"He he he," he laughs mischievously, so proud of himself.

I'm standing over the stove, stirring the ground turkey till its evenly brown. Harry has been cutting vegetables, moving back and forth from my pan to the kitchen island. The spices make for a savory aroma, filling the room and making my tummy growl.

I can hear Coldplay from the living room and Harry lip syncing to the lyrics. This is what a normal day looks like, is supposed to be like. Walking around barefoot, familiarizing myself with his kitchen cupboards and drawers. I see that Harry is finished using the knife, so I casually walk behind him and bump into his hip.

"Now look what you've done . . . gone and made a mess of MY kitchen," Harry scowls and grins at the same time, I didn't realize he had scraps in his hands.

"Sorry," I press my lips to keep from giggling. "I'll pick it up."

"No no no, I've got it . . . the nerve. Thinks she can just waltz in here and make a mess of things . . . rubbish! Who does she think she is?" He carries on, so dramatic. "Here, you pick it up."

"Brat," I mumble.

"Wha-what's that, a brat you say? Well, looks like someone ain't getting ANY tonight."

The straight face doesn't last very long. His brows are high, smug gesture turning into a smile. A chuckle is heard here and there while we pick up the mess of pepper and onion scraps.

"So what made you decide to get this place and not some big fancy house?"

"Ummm, well most of the lads wanted to buy a house, I just wanted a small place of my own, plus I've always liked this area. . . truth is, I think a big house for one person is a bit much. Maybe when I'm settled down. . . Dontcha think?"

"Yes, that makes sense. I still live with my parents while most of my friends have their own apartments."

"It's cause you're a good girl, your parents have no reason to get rid of ya," he winks.

"Well I've told my dad twice that I wanted to get an apartment, he kindly argues that he doesn't want to see me suffer. Paying bills and starving myself when I can live comfortably at home while I study."

"Sounds like you have it rough," Harry rolls his eyes and nods, slicing an orange in half.

"They're the ones that got me hooked on the Beatles and helped pay for my trip," I brag and pass him another orange.

"Yup, now I really feel sorry for ya," his tone oozes sarcasm. " Those are some pretty rad parents you have there. . .Mine are divorced, I talk with both of 'em but am closest with my mum."

"That's always hard, no matter what age you are. Do you have any siblings?"

"Sister, Gemma. I think the both of you would get along just fine."

Really? The thought of ever meeting his family excites me. I think a family man is another attractive trait that's so rare these days. The timer goes off, its time to take the tortillas out of the oven, they are the perfect shade of golden. I situate all the toppings along the counter and check to see if the meat is done.

Harry finishes squeezing the oranges and we're moments away from having the best OJ ever. I fetch my phone to call and check on Meredith but she doesn't pick up. I try catching my parents next, before its too late in the day.

"Hey mom," I look at Harry and smile, walking over to the dinning table.

"I was afraid we wouldn't hear your voice till you got back. How's your day going, any more encounters with Mr. McCartney," She giggles over the phone.

"No I'm afraid not. My day has been . . . amazing so far."

"Have you seen that guy again?"

"Yessss, actually I have some news, there's been a change of plans," I catch Harry throw me a sneaky grin as he wiggles his eyebrows again. "I changed my flight for Monday instead of tomorrow."

"Oh, does your friend have anything to do with this?" I hear her smiling.

"Yes. His name is Harry, mom."

"Ok, well I trust you know what you're doing. Be safe."

"I will. I'll call later with the flight details, okay?"

"Sounds good. Dad is at the store but I'll let him know. Love you."

"Love you too, mom. Bye."

I hang up the phone reminded of my bizarre turnabout. An ordinary girl from Phoenix, Arizona, who lives with her parents and is still trying to find herself in this world . . . is here in London. Sitting in this amazing apartment, about to eat lunch with a gorgeous English . . . lad. Never in my wildest dreams.

"Heyy, you alright?" Harry squeezes my shoulder.

I look up at him. His face is perfect and his eyes show such concern. I smile because I'm more than alright . . . I think I'm falling in love. Nonsense! How could that be? The lack of time should be proof enough that I'm thinking irrationally . . . but am I really?

I spend the next hour observing our interaction like a third person in the room. Studying the way I react to his comments and expressions, admiring the way he looks back at me and listens attentively. Melting when he puts his hand over mine and when he laughs, his whole face beams. I think I might be nauseous.

"Excuse me-" I bolt for the bathroom in his room.

Shutting the door behind me, I run and hug the toilet, but nothing comes out. I can feel the acid turning my stomach still. My mouth is watering like I want to throw up. Could I have induced that gut feeling, worrying what will happen when I return home? It was stupid to admit, but thats exactly what it was.

"Baby, are you okay? Can I come in?"

"I'll be out in just a sec."

My nerves begin to settle as I wash my hands. I pat my neck and cheeks with the cool water before wiping the excess off on my dress, but the rose flush on my cheeks won't go away. When I open the door, Harry is leaning against the frame, worry written across his face.

"Are you going to tell me whats wrong?" His voice is serious yet soft.

"False alarm," I try to brush it off, leaning back with only two feet between us.

He places his hand on my stomach, "Are you unwell?"

"No . . . just lovesick."

"Lovesick? But I'm here," he flashes an adorable smile.

"I know but I can't stop stressing about the future," I say drifting back to the kitchen to occupy myself . "And I'm not trying to stress you out either. It must be a girl's curse, we over think things too much."

"No, thats untrue. I've thought about it as well, but those conversations can be quiet daunting. I just want us to have a couple of days to be normal with one another. . . I've been unlucky in love, and I don't wanna to jinx it."

"Is it too late to do the awkward robot dance, for ruining our lunch?" I smile sheepishly.

"C'mere," he chuckles.

It feels so nice to be in Harry's arms, his body towering over mine, scent still lingering combined with yummy turkey tacos. Just as I'm about to fall asleep against his chest, I hear my phone ring. Its sitting on the dining table and it takes me a minute to recognize the number.

"Meredith?"

"Yea, hel-lo. Is this Jude?" She answers in a thick accent.

"Yes, yes it is. How are you feeling?"

"Well I have a massive headache but I'm no longer hungover," she laughs.

"Good. I'm glad to hear you're okay," I give Harry a thumbs up and put her on speaker.

"Jude, I don't remember much from last night, but I just want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for taking care of me. I don't know anyone who would have done that."

"You're very welcome. You had us worried."

"I remember your blonde friend too. Tell her thank you for me as well, yeah?"

"Of course I will."

"Okay, well I tried to tidy up a bit. What would you like me to do with your room key?"

"Just hand it in. I'll complete the check out over the phone."

"Great. I owe you one, how can I make it up to you?"

"Ummm. . . drink plenty of water," I shrug, smiling at Harry who's making a funny face.

"I promise. Okay, I'm heading out the room now."

"Thank you for calling back. Take care, Meredith."

"Thanks. You too angel."

"Such a sweet girl," Harry adds after I hang up.

"I know right! She called me angel," I smile like a goober.

"I was referring to you. . . and she is right. You are a genuine good person," Harry walks over to cup my face in his hands. "And that makes my heart pound even stronger, knowing that you have a big heart as well . . .capable of loving fiercely."

"Why aren't you kissing me yet?" I whisper girlishly.

"I was delivering my speech, but now you rudely interrupted me and I can't remember what else I was gonna say," his smug tone returns. He looks down at my pouty lips and grins. "Oh yea, now I remember. . ."

Harry pulls me towards him and leans in, finally. His full lips suctioning mine, it seems like forever since I've felt them. My fingers are gripping on the hem of his shirt while his arms wrap around my shoulders. I try to deepen the kiss but he pulls away, teasing me with his tongue. Sweet cruel tongue.

He laughs, thinking he has the upper hand but when I turn around he grabs me at the waist. I cross my arms and make him work for another kiss, except he seems to like the idea of me playing hard to get. He gently wraps my ponytail around his hand, tugging lightly to the side, exposing my neck. Waiting to feel his heavy breath, I'm comforted by his soft fingers gently brushing over my vulnerable concave, zigzagging down my arm.

Then his mouth latches on my fragile skin, nibbling on my neck. His free hand reaches over the front of my waist and holds me close. I'm short of breath as my temperature rises, wanting him to touch me all over. I surrender my hand above my head to search for his soft locks, fisting them between my fingers, moaning on accident.

"Can I taste you?" His sultry voice lingers in my ear, every hair on my body reacts.

"Harry . . . we talked about this. . ."

"I was referring to your lips," he spins me around, thumb crossing my mouth. And with a conniving grin he adds, "Pervert."

He lets go and takes a few steps back into his bedroom, I know he's tempting me on purpose. Instead, I lift my chin up and begin to clean the kitchen. He's not going to get his way, no matter how hot and bothered I am. I rinse and load the dishwasher like a good housewife and wipe down the counters.

Harry comes back out topless with a disappointed smirk, his shirt is rolled up around his neck, hands hanging on the ends. He disappears into the living room and I hear a change in music, something with an indie rock twist. As I wipe the island off I see Harry do a cute little dance back into the kitchen.

I'm biting the inside of my cheeks to keep from laughing. He sways his hips with a straight face and begins to twirl his shirt in the air. I nearly give up when I see him thrust the air and skip over to me. He stands behind me and dances on my leg like some sort of male stripper, I didn't know he could move like that.

An explosion of laughter emerges and Harry walks around the island to throw his shirt at me. His dimples are so prominent as he blushes from embarrassment.

"Admit it, you liked the show!" He smiles showing his brilliant white teeth.

"My cheeks hurt from trying not to laugh.

"Success!" Harry throws his fist in the air.

His moment of glory is interrupted by a buzz from his back pocket. He takes the call and sits at the dinning table, starring blankly in my direction. I finish the kitchen, although its more to eavesdrop on the conversation since everything is almost put away.

"Yea, I can't. Not tonight. . . I'll be seeing you tomorrow, before soundcheck?" Harry stares at the floor. "Alright mate, that'll work. Buh bye." Harry stands up and drags back over to the center counter.

"Would you like some more juice before I put it away?" I ask him but he nods.

"No thanks, have you made any plans since your change of flights?"

"Well, Linda asked me to go with her to this thing on Friday night . . ."

"Friday night?! That's like a good night for us to do something," he argues, slightly bothered.

I can't tell him about my surprise, but I don't want him to feel like I'm blowing him off. I can see why he would think that my remaining time here belongs with him, and in a twisted possessive way, I sort of like it. Still he remains quiet without further insight to his question.

"I can cancel it's no big deal," I shake my head.

"No no, it's alright. It's just, there was this thing . . .but its probably better that . . .yeah."

"What thing?"

"Never mind. . . do you feel threatened by my job? Like . . . is it something you feel you could handle?"

"You mean like the privacy and publicity issues?"

"Yea, like . . . it can be a tiny bit overwhelming and stuff. The fans, schedules, the attention. I love the fans and the full package, but some things are just thrown out there no matter how private you try and keep it. Could you handle that?"

"I support whatever you want to do. You're the public figure and the one that makes that decision."

"The thing is I don't go announcing every date I go on, but when it takes a turn into something more serious . . . I want to know that I have your permission to share it."

His eyes are narrowing in on my reaction. My heart is recovering from the flatline; the possibility of Harry being serious about me to that degree leaves me speechless. A possibility but not a sure reality . . .yet.

"Of course, but I just wonder why you would announce it and not keep it private for less interrogations."

"No way, if I'm in love I want to share it with the world . . . its very liberating!"

"So what would you like to do now?"

"You said you wanted to watch movies too right?"

"You know what I've never seen, I mean maybe like snippets here and there, but I've yet to see a full One Direction video . . ." I smile coyly.

"Oh God. . ."

"I thought you'd be happy to show me," I bat my eyes.

"Just one."