An image of Belle is to the side. 

I've always trusted my first instinct. I've always been the kind of girl to do bold things without over-thinking too much. But I'm not confident. There is a different between taking risks and confidence. Risk taking is a daredevil kind of deed, the deed in which you know you may fail. Confidence is the ability to be sure of yourself, to be certain of what you're doing. You know inside you're right. 

Both things don't apply in the moment I'm left standing outside Harry's house he walks away from me. After he spoke those words, I'm baffled by the idea of Harry having the slightest emotion for me that wasn't loath or annoyance. Taking risks is a more reliable topic here. I'm not certain of Harry's confession. But I stood there thinking that if people were both, I'd give it a chance. 

I swallowed down my thoughts, eyebrows furrowed as I managed to make my way towards his car that this time was a different automobile. A black Range Rover. Behind us, Belle sat without a car seat in the back, her eyes glued to the window. Harry's long fingers reached for the stereo buttons, keeping a focused glance at the road ahead. 

My eyes are glued to his left hand, watching it press buttons to change the radio station. My mouth was a little dry, and instead of finding some witty remark to hit him with, I didn't find anything as I racked my brain for it. Harry can't possible like me. He really can't. 

"So, what flavor are you gonna get, baby?" 

"Chocolate!" Belle squealed, and my face went read hot as a mili-second afterwards because I said:

"Vanilla" escaped my mouth before I realized he wasn't talking to me. 

Harry's eyes glanced over at me, the soft smirk playing on his lips sweetly like he couldn't be more pleased at what just happened. I gulped, feeling so embarrassed. Belle didn't really notice this, so she just went on humming softly to "Roar" by Katy Perry. I cursed Harry's choice of words, slumping lower in my seat. 

"That's great, girls," he replied, like the thought in his head was running wild. I responded when he addressed Belle with "baby"; a petname he only gives me when he's messing with me. I grew so accustomed to it, that his words began to backfire against me the way he wanted them to. "I'm more of a vanilla guy myself." 

"Poo!" Belle shrieked from her seat. 

I laughed softly at her frowning expression, heart-shaped lips into the most adorable smile I've ever seen on a three year-old. I watched her as her little frown became an extensive grin. "I told you Hawy likes you. 'Cause he wants vanilla!"

"No, he wants me," I softly teased, making sure Harry heard. By the way he shot me a gentle, amused grin I knew he heard me perfectly fine. Since when was I okay with being in the same car with Harry?

Since when was I happy in his presence and since when did I want to meet his siblings and take a tour of his grand house? His luxuries and his life, something that was out there for anyone to read. Yet, I had the first hand-experience of getting to know him. 

The guy my mom insists is a criminal. 

Just as the thought about his criminal records crossed my mind, I listened to him constantly argue with Belle over ice cream flavors. The pouts, the chuckles, and the giggles that were exchanged between them through it all made me feel less certain and confidence that Harry was that guy on those records. 

"Mint is nasty." I agreed with Belle, scrunching up my nose. 

Belle clasped her hands together on her lap. "I know!" 

"You guys have poor taste. I'm quite shocked. I used to think you had such...exquisite taste, Serenity," he breathed, shaking his head in false disappointment. There was something different about the way he spoke. Maybe because he was around Belle, but he was doing something strange with his tone. It was still raspy, and deep, still hinted with the same teasing. 

Maybe I heard it differently this time.

I scoffed. We were in the parking lot of a small ice cream parlor. "Rita's" it read. The small place was like a shed painted in light blue, white outline windows, and barely anyone near it. Yet it was still in service.

Belle grasped two of his fingers, unable to grasp his entire hand in the width of hers. My heart shattered with emotion when she skipped over to me, and wrapped her tiny fingers around my own thin ones. I felt Harry's gaze burn over at my face as we walked across the pavement, a hot sun glaring down at us. 

His beautiful eyes watched me carefully, and I turned away from his intimidating gaze. For the first time his eyes felt inappropriate against my flesh. And somehow that was enough for me to look back again, only to see him talking and grinning down towards Belle. 

I watched the deeper dimple on his left cheek, and the way barely noticeable wrinkles formed by his eyes. I never thought he could smile so genuinely and truthfully. He was loyal to one human being and she wasn't nearly four feet tall yet. 

I noticed the way his eyes glisten with adoration and love and care when he looks down at Belle. Harry barely kept anything a secret. He wasn't afraid to do anything, and I nearly came down with the conclusion that Harry Styles was both. 

When we entered the parlor, I was told to sit down with Belle and await the ice cream Harry was going to pay for, as he insisted. Swinging her legs back and forth inside the booth, Belle lied her head on her forearms, lying at rest in comfort and thought. Lost in her own little world. 

I almost wanted to hold her in my arms like Harry does. She seems so fragile and sweeter than a cupcake. It was impossible not to fall in love with Belle at first sight. 

"So Bells," I heard her giggle at the nickname, "who takes care of you while Harry's not home?" 

Belle leans on her elbows now, staring up at me with her bright, gorgeous eyes. "Um..I go to a daycare. Hawwy drops me off all the time." 

"You've got any friends there?" I asked her, folding my hands on the table. Talking to Belle was amusing because every now and then she'll become frustrated when she couldn't speak properly. 

Belle frowned gently. "No." 

"Why not?" I returned the frown. 

"I don't like them, silly," she giggled, shaking her head. Same here, I thought to myself. This little girl is me and she'll no doubt be similar to me when she gets older. If not, a better person. "My only friend is Kitty Nemo." 

My eyebrows raised. "Who's Kitty Nemo?" 

"My mermaid friend!" She squealed. My lips parted in realization as she said, "She's sitting right next to me!" She sat at the window seat of the booth, pointing to her side. Her imaginary friend Kitty Nemo must be having quite the time sitting with fins. 

I nodded my head slowly, smiling. "Can you tell me about Kitty Nemo? Seems like she's a little shy." 

"Okay," Belle grinned widely. "Kitty has supa long purple hair, and crazy yellow eyes," her S's was excessive on the word 'crazy', making her sound like she had a slight lisp. She was awfully precious and I'd hate to ever think she'll be hurt one day. Someone needs to keep this girl away from the real world for as long as possible. 

Just in time when Belle began to talk about her friend, too much, Harry returned with a tray of square bowls, each filled with ice cream. Belle immediately dug into her chocolate ice cream, spreading it around the corners of her mouth and her cheeks as she ate messily. Harry was about to sit himself next to her, but Belle let out a shriek, catching the attention of a view people before they minded their own business. 

Harry looked horrified. "What?" He gasped. 

"Kitty Nemo is sitting there!" Belle whined, rolling her eyes like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

The look of realization crossed Harry's face, and he nodded. He probably already knew about Kitty Nemo. "Then I'll just have to sit next to Serenity," he spoke softly, grinning lazily and amused at me. If I wasn't too busy finding this whole imaginary friend thing cute, I'd think harry seemed a little apologetic. Lies. Ha. 

The grin Belle shot both of us before digging into her ice cream may have made me think this little girl was trying to do more than save Kitty Nemo from getting crushed by Harry. 

+

We dropped off Belle after a date at the park with her. We sang songs loudly and built a castle of cards that Harry had in his car while sitting on a blanket. Harry refused to drop me off home yet, though. I cried in false misery, pretending like I was being kidnapped, which he flicked my nose for the second afterwards. 

I found myself sitting on the hood of his Range Rover, overlooking the stars and the bright lights from the hills of Glen Head, New York. I laughed loudly, practically snorting with laughter as Harry admitted he's been sleeping at a party once, and I was caught on video getting baby powder shot at him from someone's butt as they farted in his face. 

"Oh my god, that's disgusting," I gasped, mumbling into my hand as I tried not to gape at Harry. 

He leaned flat against his car, staring at the sky while I leaned onto my arms from behind me. It was quiet and a perfect moment in time to get murdered by a criminal hiding in the trees nearby. But I wasn't going to kill the mood, seeing as this was yet another moment when Harry and I were enjoying ourselves in front of each other ever since three weeks ago when we met. Three weeks already since Natalie's party. 

"You snort like a little pig." He laughed at me, watching me from his lying position. 

My hand reached to flick his nose. He turned his head for a second, dodging my insensitive assault. "Don't laugh at me." I warned him playfully. 

"It's cute, though." He admitted, the heat not rising just in the air but in my face. The lack of sunlight didn't have to be a factor for heat, since I was already growing hotter from Harry's words. 

I rolled my eyes, sighing. "Yeah, and so are your hairy underarms," I sarcastically shot back at him. 

"Say what you want...but I don't give a --" 

I placed my hand over his mouth, only for it to be licked like he had done when he was drunk last night. I squealed in disgust, wiping my hand down on his warm cheek. His soft skin was baby smooth beneath my touch, making me almost gasp before I realized I was being too touchy myself. 

"Harry..." I began. 

"Hmm?" His gaze again made me uncomfortable. In a way I wasn't certain whether it meant good or bad...or both. 

I felt stupid to ask this question. He might actually laugh at me. He might tell me I'm a dumb ass for thinking about asking him or even believing him the slightest. I glanced down at my fingers before pushing away my anxiety. 

"Do you really have a crush on me?" 

The silence was maddening as he stared at me. Those pretty eyes became my death sentence when he sat up, leveling them with mine. As if his words couldn't get anymore endearing. "I don't know," he breathed, shrugging. "But, I want to find out." 

"How?" 

"Ask your dad for your hand in marriage," he shot at me sarcastically, chuckling as I irritatingly slapped his shoulder. "No, seriously. Hang out with you and stuff. Shit normal people do, of course. Unless you wanna skip all that and head straight for the sheets." 

I took my time to over think what he was trying to say. He doesn't know if he likes me, but in order to find out he wants to spend more time with me. I should be glad he didn't laugh in my face, but at the same time I'm feeling threatened by his proposal. Can't he just tell me he wants to fuck to make it all less complicated? 

"Do you honestly want to figure out?" I asked, almost bored. I know I was being a little heartless, but come on Harry can't possible have a crush on me and only me. 

At this Harry scoffed. "What do you take me for, huh? Am I some evil criminal you can't give a chance?" He asked, the slight annoyance slipping into his features almost like tidal waves, smoothly but strongly and dangerously. 

I huffed this time. "What do I take you for?" I asked, voice high-pitched. "C'mon, Harry, we both know you don't get crushes." 

"And this is where you think you know everything." He spat, hopping off the hood of his car. His footsteps crunched grass beneath his boots, and still I wanted to figure out where this conversation could possibly go towards. 

"Harry," I called for him. By his side of the car, he stopped and closed the car door he'd opened seconds ago. Watching me with a glare, he clenched his jaw in impatience. "Why are you so mad?" 

"Why? Because you're just like everyone else." He spat. Ouch...His eyes were lit ablaze with anger. "I do one thing and it lands me in the dead center attention of the cops everywhere. I get accused for shit I didn't do, do you know that?" Silence. "Yeah, I thought you didn't." 

He was being so harsh me with, and I almost felt naive and stupid for thinking I had the right to speak that way to him. I stared down at my sneakers, feeling less bold and confident than three seconds ago. 

"Oh, my radio went missing. Oh, I know, let's blame that woman's fucking kid. He surely did it! He has a criminal record!" 

"Okay, I'm sorry, alright!?" I shouted, crossing my arms over my chest. It was one thing to feel bad about practically judging him based on nothing but peoples' unreliable words, but I'm not letting him open his mouth to talk garbage to me. "I'm sorry for saying that you don't have crushes." 

"That's not what I'm necessarily upset over." 

"Then what?" I asked, eyebrows furrowed. 

He sighed, his chest rising tall and falling low. "I've slept with six girls. My entire life. Seven if you count my first time, but I really don't think that was sex. I don't even know what to call it," he rambled, waving his hand in the air in horror for that one awkward, inexperienced night. I stifled a laugh, biting my bottom lip. My ears were almost straining to believe what he was saying. 

"Why did you lie then?" I asked. 

"I didn't," he smirked. "You all just assumed I slept with different girls every night. Yeah, I love getting the attention of ladies but I don't go searching and hunting down for more p*ssy to fuck. Like I said, I'm not an asshole all the time"  His arms crossed over his chest, and he looked at me for my reaction. 

I didn't think. "Seriously. Only six?" 

"Twice or more times with each girl. Not at the same time. No I didn't throw them out, they left because of my little criminal record or they found another guy." 

This new information made my stomach swirl in a pleasant way. "How do I know you're not lying?" 

He huffed. "Now I wish we had some type of test to look for any recent sexual activity 'cause damn you have trust issues, Serenity." 

I laughed, leaning against his car. "I just...I don't understand why you gotta be such a d*ck most of the time." 

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "That was before I... --" he trailed off, coughing and staring down at his boots. 

I smiled a little, knowing where this is going. "You what?" 

"None of your fucking business, nosy twit," he snapped playfully, making me growl in amusement. I pushed away from leaning against his car, but his hands slipped down my waist, making me stop dead in my tracks to savour his touch. I squealed as his fingers dug into my hips, pulling me back to him. "You're not gonna leave me that soon." I could feel his raspy, deep voice against my ear. And I didn't feel like killing him in that instance, which is shocking itself as our gestures tonight. 

"Don't risk it, Angel," I shot back, grinning and giggling as I heard Harry inhale deeply. 

"Jeesh. The word criminal used in a sentence just as your name, and everyone's running in the other direction." The touch of his large hands left me a little...shocked when he didn't slip them down my ass or grip some other part of my body that he'd find pleasure in. He just left them there, respecting my wishes. For the first time since we met. That's a first. 

I turned around in his grip to face him. "Okay. I'm not gonna go running in the other direction from you." 

"Really?" He asked, not believing me, and his eyebrows raised. 

I huffed, offended he doesn't believe me. "Honestly. Why would I leave? Plus...you need to figure out that little crush on me right?" 

Harry chuckled. The moment our eyes really locked, for real this time -- no hatred, no annoyance, no banter or any form of mockery. I looked at him and I saw Harry Styles, inside mushier than wet mud and sweeter than Hershey's kisses. His cute curls looked like chocolate anyway, so the comparison was adorable. 

My arms stayed at my side, and just like at JCPenny's, Harry rolled his eyes and wrapped my arms around his neck. "You still suck at being my girlfriend." 

"That's because I'm not." 

"Yet, obviously." He bit back a grin, or faces two inches closer than before. 

I laughed. "Don't consider yourself too lucky, Styles. I'm only agreeing because I feel bad you've only slept with seven women." 

"Six", he corrected, making me laugh. 

Don't get to ansty. The drama will get here, you just gotta be patient with Serenity and Harry's developing feelings.