Isabelle’s P.O.V

As Kate left, I heard her say, “She’s all yours.” Someone chuckled softly. A moment later, Harry entered the office again, his eyes sparkling. He crossed the room in three strides and put his hand on my bandaged leg, “How are you feeling?”

“Still hurts like fuck,” I said, and Harry chuckled again. I had to admit, it was a nice sound. It made my brain buzz. “So,” Harry said, leaning against the bed, “Are we cool?” I pursed my lips and thought a moment, “Yeah, we’re cool. But I’m still calling you asshole, asshole.”

Harry grinned, “Fine, but I’ll get to call you idiot.” I rolled my eyes, “Don’t call me that.” “Fine,” Harry cocked an eyebrow, “What should I call you?”

“Hmm,” I took a moment to think, “How about ‘Mistress’? It has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?” Harry laughed and stared at me, and I shifted shyly. His stare made me go…on edge. “So,” I said, itching to change the topic, “Where’s our first official fake-date being held?”

“You’ll see” was all I got in response. I pouted, “Tell me.” Harry shook his head, “Nope. You’ll have to see for yourself. Although I will tell you this: it’s tomorrow, at noon.”

“What?” I shrieked. Harry nodded. “I’m used to rushing into things. If I don’t, then the press with know it’s fake.” I shook my head,

“Still, Harry. Don’t you think that’s a bit unhealthy?” Harry laughed,

“Since when do you care?”

I shook my head quickly, “I don’t.” He smirked at me, “Uh-huh. Sure.” I rolled my eyes and tried to move away from him, but the pain in my leg hurt too much, so I just leaned against the wall awkwardly. Harry continued to stare at me, and I shifted uncomfortably. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Harry shrugged, “I don’t know. You just seem…different.” I scoffed, “Don’t go all cheesy romantic movie on me, asshole.” He grinned,

“Admit it: you liked it.”

I blushed and looked down, “I did not.”

Harry laughed, “You did, don’t lie.” Suddenly, there were several knocks on the door, and it burst open. People in black clothing carrying microphones and expensive cameras poured into the small office, and I immediately felt claustrophobic. “Harry?” I asked loudly, over the sudden stream of screaming paparazzi, “What’s this?”

A sense of dread washed over me as Harry answered. He stared up at me, his eyes suddenly hard. “The press.”

“Harry!” people screamed, “Who’s this?”

“A girlfriend?” a woman asked.

“Give her a smooch!” someone else cried out. I stared at Harry, my eyes determined, “Don’t even think about it,” I told him seriously.

He just chuckled, and before I could say anything about it, his lips swiped against my cheek lightly. A shock ran through me. The press cheered and cameras flashed. I touched my fingertips lightly to the spot Harry’s lips had made contact with, my brain suddenly buzzing. This was the first time a boy had done that. My cheeks felt hot, and I knew that I must’ve been blushing like crazy, but at the moment, I didn’t care.

Suddenly, security guards entered the room and forced the press out. It took several minutes, but finally the door closed and clicked shut, revealing that it was locked. I stared at Harry, shocked, but it wasn’t because of the press.

“You kissed me,” I blurted suddenly, and then I put my hand to my mouth. Harry laughed calmly, “Yeah, you better get used to it if you’ve signed up for this.”

“You kissed me,” I repeated, unable to believe it. Harry stared at me like I was a retard. “Are you implying that no other guy has ever kissed you?” he asked, shocked. I became embarrassed. “I’ve never had time for relationships,” I used as an excuse. I looked up and found Harry smirking at me, and my face heated up. Harry must have noticed the rapid crimson change of my cheeks, because he held his hands up. “Hey, that’s fine with me.”

I breathed, and Harry grinned. Desperate to ease the tension, I said, “So, will you be a good fake-boyfriend and stay overnight while I get my stitches sewn in?” Harry chuckled and leaned in, whispering at the base of my ear, “To be honest,” he murmured, and he gestured to the door, where the paparazzi were still pounding away, “I don’t think they’ll let me leave.”

*The next morning*

I woke up and rolled along my bed, groaning. I stared at my alarm clock, reading the digits seven thirty a.m. I groaned again and rolled away, and my eyes fluttered shut once more.

The next time I woke up, Kate pranced into my room, crying,
“Wake up gorgeous, it’s eleven!”

“What?” I shrieked, and I sat up, almost falling off of the bed. Kate stared at me with wide eyes. “What?”

“I have to go meet Harry!” I cried out, “We have our first official fake-date!” Kate snorted, “Well, then, you’d better hurry up.” I stared at her, “Thanks,” I retorted sarcastically. She flashed me a thumbs up. “No problem, beautiful!” I rolled my eyes and reached for a baggy t-shirt and leggings. Kate grabbed the clothes out of my hands before I could tug them on.

“What is this?” she asked disbelievingly. “I’m not going to dress up for him,” I replied, staring at her dumbly. Kate clucked her tongue and grabbed my wrist, yanking me into the washroom. She plopped me down on the toilet. “You can’t go on a date whilst looking like you just rolled out of bed!”

I stared at her uncomprehendingly, “But I did.” She rolled her eyes, “Whatever,” she smoothed out my hair, “Let me work my magic.”

*One hour later*

“Thanks,” I said, sliding into the car, past the car door that Harry had opened for me. Harry crossed to his side and glided inside, shutting the door. He reached over my body to shut my side, and I smelled cinnamon. Then I caught him smirking, and realised that this was what he wanted. I pushed him away. “I can close it myself, thank you very much.”

“Suit yourself, bitch,” he retorted, and I oohed. “Ouch, very clever.” He rolled his eyes and gave me one of those intense stares. I shifted and looked straight ahead, not wanting to return his gaze.

“Just drive us.”

We were on the freeway a few minutes later. Harry opened his mouth. “You know what I just realised? I don’t know anything about you.”

“You know that I’m nineteen,” I pointed out. He shrugged, “That’s nothing. You could have been fifty, for all that I care.” I was a bit taken aback. “What are you saying? That even if a girl was way older than you, you’d still go out with her, so long as she’s pretty?”

Harry shrugged again, “Exactly.” I shook my head in disbelief. “I can’t believe you. That’s so perverted, and gross…and just wrong,” I pretended to shiver and paused before adding something else,

“Okay, say I was fifty….what would you say to me?”
He chuckled, “You’re not fifty.” I rolled my eyes, “Just say I was. What would you say?” Harry looked over at me, as if scrutinizing my whole being. His eyes raked down my torso, and I fought the urge to look away. Finally his eyes focussed back on my face.

“I’d say you had a rocking body,” he answered, a smirk playing on his pink lips. I buried my face in my hands. “Just shut up.” He held up his hands in surrender, “Hey, you asked me!” I pointed at the steering wheel crazily. “Hands on the wheel!”

Harry laughed, resting his palms comfortably on the wheel once more. I stared at him, “Oh? So you think that killing us would be funny? Then by all means, go ahead! You’re not even wearing a seat belt!” Harry scoffed, “Please. Seat belts are for pansies.”

“Thanks,” I said sarcastically, and before I could even acknowledge what the hell I was doing, I leaned over to grab the seat belt. I quickly guided it over Harry’s body and clicked it in place, and then I turned to face forward, sitting stiffly. I could feel Harry’s gaze burning through my cheek.

Harry opened his mouth to say something but then seemed to have though better. Instead, he said, “We’re here.” I noticed a familiar narrow dirt path, and groaned, “Are you serious?” I looked at him. “Hey,” he replied, “I was only joking yesterday, when I said that I shag all my fake-girlfriends here. I actually have something pretty romantic planned.”

“Yeah?” I snorted as he leaned into the backseat, reaching for something that I couldn’t see, “Like what?” In response, Harry pulled out a picnic basket for me to see. My jaw fell, and he smirked good-naturedly. “Yup…pretty mind-blowing.”

We got out of the car, and to my surprise, I found myself ogling the scenery. On both sides of the vehicle were leafy green trees: spruces, the kinds that don’t shed their leaves. The path was the same: dusty and rough. But what really took my breath away was the vast body of water in front of me. There was a wooden dock, and churning waves were lapping up against the shore. The path slowly turned to sand and the sand was hard and packed where the water rushed over it. Harry grinned at me when I turned to him.

“Come on,” he said, and at that moment, I heard a faint sound. It sounded like gravelly tires. Harry’s stare became hard again, and he took my hand suddenly, forcefully. I yelped as he broke into a run towards the dock, dragging me with him.

When we were standing securely on the dock, I put my hands on my hips and scowled, “What the hell?” Harry just shushed me. “Do you see them?” he asked. I peeked over his shoulder subtly and saw the faintest flash of a camera, something I would have missed had I not been looking. “You’d think for professional paparazzi, they’d be a bit more subtle,” I grumbled, and Harry chuckled.

He began to lay out a blanket. “Wow,” I marvelled, “You’re really getting all ‘Little Red Riding Hood’ on me, aren’t you?” He smiled up at me and began to pull out small Tupperware containers, uncapping them. I saw mashed potatoes, rice, pasta, and steamed vegetables. Harry pulled out two forks, and motioned for me to sit, which I did. He then handed me the containers and said, “Enjoy.”

“Did you make this?” I asked him, surprised. He stared at me like I was crazy and laughed, “Hell no. Thank Niall. Most people don’t know this, but he’s actually a pretty great cook.” I nodded as I helped myself to a forkful of mashed potatoes. Harry clapped his hands, “Okay, down to business. Set your mashed potatoes down and come sit next to me.”

“Aw,” I whined, “But they’re so good.” Harry rolled his eyes playfully, “I don’t care. Come over here.” I sighed and set the Tupperware container down, sliding to Harry’s side. “Good,” he murmured in my ear, “Now lean your head on my shoulder.”

“Do I have a choice?” I asked through clenched teeth. “Nope,” he replied simply, and I grumbled as I did what he asked. “Just relax,” he told me soothingly. I breathed in slowly and let my shoulders fall. I didn’t even realise they were hunched.

“Good,” Harry said again, “Now kiss me.”
At that, I pulled back, “No. No way. Absolutely not.” Harry pouted, trying to hide a smirk, “Why not? Most girls would jump at the opportunity.”

“I’m not most girls,” I pointed out, glaring at him disapprovingly. Harry whined. “Aw, come on Isabelle…just a small peck?”

“I will push you in the lake.”

Harry laughed for real this time, but then his face went back to a hard mask. I sighed, “You know what your problem is? You don’t relax when you do this. You’re not supposed to order me around. Make it look natural.”

Harry cocked an eyebrow, “Is this your way of asking me out on a real date?” I sighed dramatically and put my hand to my forehead,

“Of course not, you dickus. It’s my way of telling you how to make a fake date actually look real for once.” Harry chuckled, “Ooh, ouch.” I rolled my eyes and sat back, balancing my weight on my palms. “Just talk about everyday things. How’re you today?”

Harry chuckled again and before I knew it, I was being shoved down into a lying position. Harry was on top of me in an instant, trapping my head between his palms. I gritted my teeth, “This isn’t what I meant.”

“Oh please,” Harry scoffed, “You should know by now that each member of One Direction is pegged as something. Niall is the cute one, Zayn is the quiet, mysterious one, Liam is the sensible one, and Louis is the funny one.”

“Does that give you the title of the ‘Complete Asshole One’?” I retorted. Harry grinned down at me. “Nope. I’m the charming one.”

“Yeah,” I said sarcastically, my eyes widening, “I can see that. Now will you please get off of me?” Harry shook his head, still smiling at me excitedly, “Nope. Not until you kiss me.” I groaned, “For the third time, I will not kiss you.” Harry shrugged, “Fine, I’ll kiss you.”

He leaned down to me, and I only had time to turn my head so that his lips grazed my left cheek. He pulled back, laughing, and I took that opportunity to push him off of me and reverse our positions, so that I was on top. “Well, well, well,” Harry said naughtily, “Look who wants some action.” I rolled my eyes, “You’re enjoying this so much, aren’t you?”

“Yup,” he cackled, and he somehow managed to lift me off of him, so that he now had me slung over his back. I pounded on his shoulder blade, “Put me down! I want my mashed potatoes!” Harry managed to sling me into his arms, where he cradled me like he had the day before. “Is this natural enough?”

“Perfect,” I whispered, smiling up at him, and I thought I could hear cameras clicking away wildly. I hesitated. “I never got to tell you how sorry I am about yesterday, when I just snapped at you. I’m sorry.” Harry looked sort of taken aback when I said this, but the corners of his mouth curved up slightly. “It’s not a problem. I know I can be a bit of a dick sometimes.”

“A bit?” I asked, “Sometimes?” Harry chuckled and muttered in my ear, “Be grateful I don’t toss you into the water.” I shivered mockingly and wrapped my arms around his neck, knowing that the press was adoring our coziness. “They’re loving this,” Harry read my thoughts, it seemed. I grinned up at him. “I was just thinking the same thing.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to kiss me?” Harry asked again, smirking. I cocked an eyebrow, “Do you want to kiss me?” I smirked, mirroring him. “Psh…” he scoffed, “Please,” he paused,

“But are you sure?” I laughed, “Maybe on our next date.”
He nodded knowingly, “Tomorrow it is.”

“What?” I shrieked, and he almost dropped me. We both stared at each other for a moment before bursting out in laughs. I buried my face in Harry’s shoulder, giggling. He shook and I clenched at the material of his Bomber jacket to keep from falling. He set me down lightly and we both sat at the edge of the dock, our feet dangling off. I stared at the frothing waves below. “You really rush into things, don’t you?”

He shrugged, “I told you yesterday: It’s just how I roll.” I rolled my eyes, “And I told you yesterday: it’s not healthy.” Harry turned to me and grabbed my hand. My skin tingled, but I reminded myself that it was only because we were being photographed. “I thought you said you didn’t care?” Harry asked skeptically. His eyebrow rose. I looked back down at my thighs, “I don’t,” I said, “But you should.”

Harry scoffed, “I’ll do whatever I want with my love life, thank you very much.” I shrugged, “Okay, whatever. Just giving you some advice.” Harry laughed hollowly, “Like you could give advice. You don’t have any experience.”

I shut up after that. “Shit,” Harry suddenly said, and he grabbed my chin, lifting it so that my eyes met his. “Isabelle, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean that. It just—,”

“Slipped out?” I cut in, my voice thick, “Yeah, I know.” Harry shook his head, “I’m so sorry,” he repeated, “That was mean and unthoughtful. You don’t deserve that.” I stared up into his green orbs, my bottom lip quivering slightly. “Don’t worry about it. You know, I think we should go.”

“Isabelle, I—,” Harry tried again, but I shook my head, “Let’s go,” I was already packing up the picnic, “Please take me home.” Harry looked like he was going to say more, but then he closed his mouth. We packed up silently, and walked slowly to the car. I slide in while Harry revved the engine, and we were speeding along the freeway once more. I could see Harry sneaking peeks at me from the corner of his eye. We drove in silence for ten minutes, and then

Harry said, “Will you speak to me?”

I remained quiet, staring down at my boots. I knew that I should’ve been mad at Harry, very mad, actually. But instead I felt sorry for him. He didn’t know what it was like to take things slow. He was always rushing around, and for this, I thought he was truly unprivileged. That didn’t stop me from keeping silent though. Harry sighed and stared straight ahead. We drove the rest of the way to my house.

Harry dropped me off at the corner of my street, “Do you want me to walk you?” he asked hopefully. I just shook my head. “No thanks,” I said weakly, and I opened the car door, climbing out,

“Bye.”

I slammed the door and turned to walk the other way. I could hear a buzzing coming from behind me, and Harry’s voice rang out a moment later, so I figured that he’d rolled down the passenger window. “Isabelle, wait!”

I wanted to turn around. I wanted to tell him that I wasn’t actually mad at him. I wanted to smile at him, and tell him that he didn’t have to worry about a thing. But I didn’t.

I kept walking.

*At night*

That evening I shrugged into a pair of silky pajama pants and a tank top, leaving my feet bare. Before closing the door, I stuck my head into the hall and called out, “Good night Kate!” There was a muffled “Good night” from down the hall and I smiled to myself, shutting the door softly. I bounced over to my bed and slid under the covers, shivering slightly, but I was too lazy to pull on a proper top. I lay on my back, facing the ceiling, marvelling at how realistic the stars were, but then I sighed: Fake stars reminded me too much of a fake relationship.

Great, was I going to be like this forever?

Suddenly there was a clink! My head shot to the side. Nothing. I was beginning to think I’d imagined it when suddenly, a small dark shadow appeared, soaring straight towards my window, hitting in again with a louder clink!

Crap, what if Kate had heard? I quickly sat up and shrugged my covers off, making my way towards the window. I stared out, not seeing anything, when something in the shadows moved. I freaked out for a moment, afraid that someone had come to kill me, when the figure finally stepped into the light. My eyes landed on curly hair, dimples, and green eyes, and I breathed.

Harry grinned up at me before sprinting to the oak tree that stood beside my terrace. I marvelled at the coincidence that a tree just happened to be in that exact spot. I watched in awe as Harry hoisted himself from one branch to the next with ease. When he jumped onto my balcony, I saw that he wasn’t even panting, or out of breath. We stood there, watching each other through the glass, and then Harry knocked lightly. His eyes looked hopeful, like he was guessing that I`d forgive him. I sighed and grasped the string of my blinds and tugged on it, and the blinds fell, obscuring him from me. He knocked again, but I had turned away, and slipped back into bed. I put a pillow over my head to block out the noise, and fell asleep.

*The next morning*

My eyes fluttered open to the gray winter light streaking through my window. My head was pounding, and I groaned, massaging my temples. I rolled over on my bed, facing my nightstand, and found a small white piece of paper. I recognized Kate`s handwriting.

Dear Belle,
Emergency decorating situation. I`ll be back at three in the afternoon. I love you.
Kate

I read the note over once more before sitting up, and looking at the clock. It was nine in the morning. I turned so that my feet dangled off the edge of the bed and stood, making my way into the washroom where I combed out my hair before tying it in a messy bun. Something pulled at me, and I went to the terrace doors. I knew that Harry was long gone, but I still felt like I had to check. I pulled the blinds open.

And screamed.

Notes

I really hoped you liked it!!! Please comment, rate, subscribe and vote! I will try to get new chapters up at soon as possible!
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