When Harry Met Luna

“Bull testicles, eh?” Harry’s laugh was infectious. When he laughed, you can’t help but smile at how lovely and childish it sounded. It was just so charming. “I didn’t know you ate bull testicles.”

“Technically, I don’t. At all.” I responded with a playful grin. “I just saw something about it on the Travel channel once. Captivating stuff. It was all about these Americans frying every food they could find in Texas.”

Harry’s hands reached out for my waist. The sheets creased as his hands blindly found the curve of my hips. He pulled me closer to him and within seconds, my grin got wider, my heartbeat quickened and the butterflies in my stomach increased. It shouldn’t have surprised me at how easily I could lose all sense of reality when Harry’s hands were on me but it did. It was a new sensation, that made me feel a little less human and a little more like something like...less human. I don’t know how to explain it. Something with no bones or a brain or sense.

Sleeping over Harry’s was totally a last minute decision. I had no intentions of coming over, on a week night no doubt, but one thing led to another and before I knew it, I was lying in Harry’s king size bed in his old Kiss band t-shirt and a pair of red plaid pajama bottoms.

This was all Mallory’s fault. I blamed Mallory for everything.

It all started this morning, when I received an ass-whoopin’ from Janet after the interview with One Direction. She got pretty pissed about my take on bull testicles. “So unladylike, unprofessional and indecent.” She said. ”Not to mention incredibly inappropriate. Think about what kind of audience One Direction attracts, Luna! Tell me you’re not that idiotic.”.

I had to seriously refrain myself from rolling my eyes when she scolded me. I was thinking she was being a little melodramatic about the whole thing. It was just a joke, you know? I thought it was pretty funny, and so did the rest of the guys.

Apparently Janet didn’t seem to think so.

She found it so unfunny, in fact, that she banned me from lunch break. Like actually banned me. For a whole week. Fucked up shit, right? I only had five minutes to grab lunch from the shitty cafeteria on the second floor and then spend the rest of my fifty-five minute lunch break filing paperwork and re-organizing the demo library.

I was pissed.

However, instead of pulling a Draco Malfoy with the whole “wait until my father here’s about this!” pitch (because, let’s be honest, I could get this bitch fired in a second if I really wanted to), I kept my mouth shut and my eyes diverted from her red, infuriated face.

It was safe to say I was in a pretty foul mood for the rest of the day at work, seeing as the only thing I was actually looking forward to was taken away from me. Of course when Harry and I finally crossed the line of being just friends, this happens. Today was suppose to be even better because I was actually able to kiss him. We were just starting to figure each other out, you know? I think he even felt bad about my new punishment because he texted me the whole time on lunch break, coming up with schemes to sneak me out. I knew it was useless, though. Janet was watching me like a hawk, even from behind her computer in her personal office with the door closed. The minute I would stand up, she would be across the floor in seconds to make sure I wasn’t leaving.

When six o’clock rolled around, I was pretty beat and extremely hungry. The dry chicken caesar salad from downstairs just didn’t cut it for me. I needed something greasy, and fast. All that talk about Hawaiian pizza earlier had me craving it for the remainder of the day. Hawaiian pizza didn’t sound so terrible right now.

Just when I started to text Beth about ordering pizza, Mallory showed up at my desk with her little red jacket on and purse slung across her body. “I hope you’re texting your dad right now, telling him you won’t be home until way later tonight.”

I looked up from my phone with a confused look. “Why?”

“We’re going out for drinks-” She started but I cut her off by getting up from my desk chair and gathering my things.

“Come on Mal, I’m still so tired from the weekend. I think I’m just going to go home-”

“No, you didn’t let me finish.” She crossed her arms with a smirk. “We’re going out for drinks with the One Direction boys.”

I paused, mid-putting on my denim jacket. “Wait, what?”

She laughed. “Zayn just texted me, telling me him and the rest of the boys were at The Mayflower getting a pint. He told me I had to bring you because Harry won’t stop talkin’ about yeh. Practically begged me to bring you, he did.”

My face flushed as I continued putting on my denim jacket. Harry couldn’t stop talking about me? That was unbelievable. What was there to say about me? “Really?”

Mallory couldn’t stop grinning at me. “Yeah, really. Now come on, we’ll grab some fish n chips on the way there or something.”

After thirty minutes of catching the tube, standing in line at a dodgy fish n chips shop and grilling Mallory on her newfound relationship with Zayn (“I think we’re hitting it off but it’s hard to tell because he’s such an Arabian prince who doesn’t speak much”), Mallory and I finally arrived at The Mayflower. It didn’t take us very long to find the rest of the gang after spotting a group of giggling girls sitting at the bar, their heads turned toward the far corner of the pub (I caught one of the blondes pulling her dangerously low v-neck down farther as she pushed all of her hair behind her shoulders. I was almost tempted to say “Cool tits” as I walked past so she could at least get something for her effort; none of the boys were paying them any attention.).

It was so strange seeing One Direction sitting in this dainty little pub and not getting completely destroyed by a large herd of fangirls. Maybe it was the fact that this pub was somewhat of a hidden treasure in the heart of the city. It was subtle, generic and full of old men meeting up with their work buddies for a pint of Guinness. It was your everyday traditional English pub with it’s oak beams and wooden panelling amongst the entire room. I loved it.

The sexual tension between me and Harry was positively unbearable. I was forced to sit across from him since Liam was on his left while Zayn was on the right. I was wedged between Mallory and Niall, who was already so inebriated, I couldn’t understand what he was saying to me. His Irish accent came out thicker when he was drunk.

“Youer woman of the hour, loove.” Niall swung his arm around my shoulder and pulled me into him. “Literally funniest woman there is! That schtuff you said this mournin’ was mighty. Innit, Harry? Innit!”

I looked over at Harry and caught him smiling in my direction. It was driving me crazy that I couldn’t just throw myself across the table and attack his lips right now.

Instead, I laughed and patted Niall’s chest before carefully pulling him off me. “Thank you, Niall. That means a lot more to me than you think.”

Eventually, while everyone else was having their own conversations with one another and Niall slowly drifted off into a drunken slumber with his head against the surface of the table, Harry and I were semi-left alone to talk.

I felt his foot nudge me softly. Even the tiniest gesture like that had the butterflies twirling inside my stomach. “Sorry for getting you into trouble earlier.”

“It wasn’t your fault.” I smiled back. “My boss is just the spawn of Satan and was possibly put on this earth just to piss me off in every way shape or form. No biggie.”

“Missed ya at lunch today too.” He now had my left foot sandwiched between his two feet. He tugged slightly. I died a little. “It was no fun not seeing you, especially after spending the whole weekend with you.”

“I know.” I couldn’t prevent the giggle escaping my lips. “I missed you too.”

“Jaaaayzus, just kiss each other already, will yeh!” Niall spoke angrily with his head still glued to the table. “The sexual tension at this table is astounding I’ll tell ya!”

I laughed it off and avoided Harry’s eyes by flicking Niall’s ear (“OW!??”) and taking another sip of my beer.

While I watched and attempted to listen to Mallory and Liam argue about how Harry Potter is an important part of English literature, I felt my phone buzz in my lap. I looked down and saw Harry’s name flash across the screen.

I looked up at Harry to see him smirking before I read the text.

Want to get out of here? My place is only a couple of blocks down the road.

I couldn’t prevent the grin from appearing on my lips. Instead of replying in text, I looked up at Harry and nodded. He grinned back at me, took the last sip of his beer and slid the empty glass towards the middle of the table.

I quietly slipped my arms through the sleeves of my denim jacket and picked up my purse while Harry pulled on his own hoodie. Everyone around us were deep in conversation so I thought maybe if we moved slowly and quietly, we could leave completely unnoticed.

“Um hello, hi, what is this? What is happening?” Of course Mallory was the first to notice when both Harry and I stood up. Mallory’s questioning caught everyone’s attention. Conversations faded as everyone watched Harry and I get ready to leave.

Great.

“It’s late, so we’re gonna head out.” I replied coolly. I caught Louis’s girlfriend, Eleanor, smirking at me.

Mallory struggled to keep her satisfied smirk hidden as well. “Oh. I see.”

I rolled my eyes at her and looked at everyone else. “Bye guys!”

I received a collective ‘See ya!’ (save for Niall, who was now snoring) while Harry stood up and joined me. It was around half past ten when we decided to leave, meaning the pub was now jam packed with people who were here for afterwork drinks. As I maneuvered myself through the groups of loud drunk people, I could feel Harry’s hand press against the small of my back. By the time we got out, Harry pulled up his hood and made an ‘oof’ sound.

“Well, I didn’t think we’d ever get out of there.” Harry spoke, sliding his iPhone into his back pocket.

I reached up and pulled the hood of his sweater down over his eyes. I giggled when he made a sound of protest. “What’s with the hood?”

“Whoa, hey!” Some random drunk guy across the street was waving at us with excitement. “Is that-hey. Whoa. Are you Harry Styles!?”

Harry turned to look at me and gave me a “that’s why” look. I rolled my eyes in response.

“No mate, not him!” Harry shouted across the street before turning his back and reaching for my hand. “Shall we?”

He laced his fingers through mine and led us down the street. I tried not to completely melt into his touch. Apparently this is was now my protocol reaction every time he touched me.

Just a couple of turns and twists around town and we were now standing inside of Harry’s suave apartment. It was located in Soho, which didn’t surprise me in the least. What surprised me was how incredibly modern it was and clean. It was so clean. If one had to compare his bedroom back in Holmes Chapel to this apartment, one would never expect it to be the same person.

“I hired an interior designer.” Harry explained when he found me in his living room picking up a square pillow that had some weird, abstract Nouveu print on it. “She designed and decorated the whole place when I was on tour in Japan.”

“Jesus, Harry.” I laughed, throwing the pillow back onto the puke green-colored sofa. “This is the most uncoziest apartment I’ve ever set foot in.”

“What do you mean?” Harry laughed after watching me cringe when I sat on the extreme stiff sofa. I felt like I just landed on a a piece of wood or a desk chair back in a lecture hall at UCLA.

“I mean, everything is just so clean. Too clean.” I replied. Harry was still standing in his open kitchen across from the living room, setting up his fancy-looking coffee machine. Watching him do it reminded me that I was sleeping over and then I melted for the hundredth time and into this awful couch. “There is no cozy factor. And this couch! How do you sit on this couch? It’s terrible.”

He poured the water into the coffee machine before closing it shut and finally joining me in the living room. He sat in the black leather recliner that was right next to the puke colored couch I was on. “To be honest, I’m not here enough to really sit on it. I think I sat on that couch a total of two times in the past two years.”

“That’s absurd.”

“I know.” He grinned, reaching behind his head to stretch. “So like...are we gonna make out or what?”

I looked up from the stupid abstract pillow and grinned at Harry. I don’t know what came over me, but before I could even rationalize my barbaric thinking, I got up from the couch and jumped on Harry. We both started laughing when I almost lost my balance, leading him to grab onto my waist and hold me up. I wasn’t very good at playing the sultry sex kitten that Harry was probably used to when he brought back models and actresses or singers back to his apartment but we were friends with benefits. I didn’t need to worry about that kinda stuff.

I don’t know how long we were there on the leather recliner. I just know we were making out a lot. We somehow moved into his bedroom afterwards, although I don’t really remember it. What I do remember, however, is Harry scooping me up and carrying me into his bedroom. He dropped both of us onto the bed and kissed me some more. Thankfully, his bed was a lot softer and nicer than his puke-colored couch.

We eventually came up for air and decided to get ready to sleep at some point. Harry thankfully lent me his clothes to sleep in, which was such a battle to begin with because he kept pointing out that he would prefer me to sleep ‘in no clothes’ which earned him a hard punch in the arm from me.

We spent the remainder of our night tucked into bed, talking about everything. Of course my little stunt from this morning, was brought up and laughed about. Then we talked about things we liked about summer in London. You know, mostly little things we liked. I told him I liked drinking Earl Grey tea in a park, the summer sales at TopShop, train rides to the countryside and a proper English breakfast on a Sunday morning.

“How can I even single things out?” Harry questioned when it was his turn. I was cuddled up to him, resting my head on his shoulder. He had his arm wrapped around me with his fingertips just resting on top of my forearm. Every once in a while he’d draw little circles into my skin. It practically made me dizzy. “Everything about summertime in England is amazing. I like our museums and how quiet they are in the month of June. I like morning tea, I love how the flowers bloom in Primrose park, I like the caramelized apples at Tilly’s Treats and I like...I like...”

I thought his hesitation was caused by him running out of ideas or getting side-tracked with an alternative thought process. What he said next was not something I expected him to say out loud at all.

“And I like you, Luna.” He finally said, although it came out a whisper. A whisper so light and delicate, I was sure I imagined it. But the words were there and they were floating in the air above our heads. “I like you a lot.”