"Honestly, if you take any longer, I'll have to kill someone to get another reservation," Harry called from outside the bedroom door as he fixed his cuff links. Carissa had spent a total of two hours getting ready for their date. She forced him to take his clothes and change in the bathroom because she wanted her outfit to be a surprise. He told her that she could've worn a garbage bag over her body and it wouldn't have made a difference to him- it's not like he really cared about her clothing choice anyway.

"I'll be out in a minute!"

"You said that fifteen minutes ago, Carissa."

He groaned and made his way to the bathroom again, making sure his shirt was still nicely ironed and tucked into his pants, and his jacket still sharp. He called every high end restaurant in town the previous day (except, of course, The Ravier) in search of a reservation for two, but all the spots had been taken. He called again a couple hours later and the results were still the same. Finally, out of luck, he managed to snag a seat at The Nine, a fancy gourmet restaurant that stood in constant competition to The Ravier, after the initial guests cancelled their reservation at the last minute. Harry immediately called in sick to his night shift at work- he was afraid that if he couldn't find a restaurant, he'd have to postpone their date, and it had been delayed long enough.

The bedroom door gave a small click and he heard the handle turn. He spun around, and for the first time, Harry was left speechless; he stood corrected- he did care about her clothing choice.

Carissa emerged from the room in a magenta coloured strapless dress, the bust of it looking quite Grecian. The chiffon on the skirt was pleated delicately, fold upon fold, giving her the look of a goddess in a dress the colour of wine. She wore her dark hair in loose waves, and her eyelids were dusted with a thin layer of gold and bronze to illuminate the flecks of brown swimming in her hazel eyes. A small smile danced onto her face when she saw Harry dressed in a grey suit, complete with a matching vest, and a black bow tie- he had never looked so handsome.

"You look nice," she said shyly. He didn't pay attention to her remark; subconsciously, he twirled his finger, motioning for her to turn around in a circle. She looked a bit worried, but turned as she was instructed. His eyes took in every curve she possessed and stored it at the back of his memory. As her circle came to an end, she caught him biting his lip, a very impressed look upon his face.

"If I said you look beautiful, it'd be an understatement," he replied, not taking his eyes off of her skin- it seemed to radiate with the help of the warm pigment of her dress. She blushed and tried to hide her cheeks behind her hands, but he locked his fingers with hers and pulled her in to kiss her. After they broke apart, he remembered something.

"Oh, wait- I got something for you."

"What?"

"I got it yesterday after practice," he searched his pockets for what he was looking for, becoming a little distressed when he couldn't feel it on his body, but soon found it in his jacket, not his pants. He pulled out a small, red velvet jewellery box and handed it to her. Her eyes widened at the sight of it.

"Harry, I really can't-"

"Don't be stubborn," he said, reminding himself of how many times he'd said that to her already, "it's yours."

The look on her face was one of guilt- she wasn't expecting to receive anything from him, and she didn't think to get him something either. She braced herself and slowly opened the box. The little hinges gave a small creak before revealing to her his gift.

Sitting on the tiny foam pillows was a thin gold chain. On it was a little flower, its petals made of a gemstone with a milky white hue.

"It's a jasmine flower," he explained, gently taking the box from her hands and tipping the necklace out, "and I talked to some people at work and they said your birthday was in October, so it coincidentally worked out that the stone they used for the petals was the one for your birth month."

He fumbled with the hook at the back of the chain and nudged her around so she was facing opposite him. Harry held each end of the chain between his fingers while she pushed her hair aside as he brought it over her head. He fastened the hook and let it hang from her neck as if it had always been there. He turned her around again and she thanked him over and over.

"It's something to remember me by-" he began before being interrupted by her lips crashing into his. His arms slowly snaked around her waist and pulled her close.

"I don't think I could ever forget you," she said between kisses.

"Do you like it?" he asked, nudging her nose with his.

"Of course I do. I just don't understand the occasion."

"Consider it a 'You're finally letting Harry take you on a date' gift," he teased, grabbing her hand and making their way out the door after putting on their shoes.

The two of them drove through town with the windows down, singing along to the radio. Harry spotted her fiddling with the jasmine pendant more than a couple times out of the corner of his eye, but he kept quiet. Things were much different, especially in comparison to their first car ride together.

The Nine was an elegant building that looked like something straight from an architecture magazine- it honed the curves of a woman and the delicate colour of rich cream. The building was shaped like a sphere, and the entire top portion was made of glass to allow the guests a view of beautiful summer night skies. It sat upon the edge of the highways leading to Malibu, and its surface was lit with little lights that served as a landmark coming into the city.

Harry pulled up to the valet station and gave the man his keys. Carissa stepped out, and Harry noticed the man eyeing her legs as her feet hit the pavement.

"I'm paying you to watch my car, not my girl," he snapped, and the man lowered his head in shame. He drove off to the parking as Harry and Carissa made their way into the line, ushered along by the wait list attendant.

"You're possessive," she pointed out, peering out to the line. They were moved to a spot closer to the front because their reservation was at 8:00, and it was currently 7:30

"No, I just don't like people staring at you."

"Exactly, so you're possessive."

"Protective is a better word, love," he winked, kissing her on the cheek and placing his hand on her waist. Her necklace shimmered under the fluorescent lighting under the awning.

Just then, the sound of a loud honk from a car speeding past came from the road, and a man ran onto the sidewalk from the street. He caught the attention of everybody in the line, and there was a low murmur among the people staring at him. Neither Harry nor Carissa could recognize who it was, for he was out of breath and his face was pale and clammy. Then it hit them.

"Tyson?" she tried to identify, squinting to make sure it was really him. He grabbed her arm and pulled her out of Harry's hold, causing her to wince at his grip.

"You have...you have to listen...to me," he stammered, fighting for his breath.

"Tyson, what the fuck-?" Harry interjected, reaching for his arm to swat his hand away from Carissa. Tyson, however, grabbed a hold onto Carissa's other arm and held onto her even tighter.

"Tyson, stop, you're hurting me-"

"YOU HAVE TO GET OUT OF HERE!" he bellowed, shaking her as if to wake her up. Panic flooded his eyes and his skin became even paler. He attempted to pull her away out of the line, but Harry stood between them and shoved him off.

"I swear to god, if you touch her again, I'll fucking kill you," Harry snarled, grabbing Tyson's shirt in his fist and glaring at him. His breaths were short and his anger took over his face. The green was gone from his eyes- only dark circles could be seen.

"Harry, stop-" Carissa urged, noticing all the looks from people. Even though Harry had threatened him, Tyson kept fighting to get the message across to Carissa.

"Do you want to die?" Tyson spat at Harry, struggling against his grip.

"I could ask you the same fucking question," Harry retorted, closing his right hand into a fist and raising his arm, readying himself for a punch,

"Hey, hey! Break it up, break it up!" shouted a security guard, prying the two of them apart. The guard held onto Tyson, who was kicking and screeching.

"Carissa, leave! You're gonna die, Styles! You're gonna die!" Tyson yelled at the top of his lungs while being pulled away to a part of the street where he couldn't be heard anymore.

"Harry, stop. Calm down, honestly-" Carissa pleaded, tugging at Harry's arm. He turned around and his gaze fell to her arms, observing them. Ugly, yellowish bruises stained her wrists, and she grimaced when he touched them.

"He hurt you."

"It's fine-"

"It's not fine!" he huffed, bringing her arms up and looking more closely at them, "Fuck, I'm so sorry-"

"It's fine, honestly. Harry, they're just bruises-"

"Excuse me, Mr. Styles? Miss Lim?" came a voice from behind them. They looked over and saw a stout man dressed in a suit. He held a clipboard in his hands, and his hair had been slicked back with gel. He cleared his throat and looked nervously at the two of them- he was clearly scared of Harry, who looked like a giant in comparison to him. "I'm Kirk Andrews, manager of The Nine. I apologize on behalf of that man and I can assure you that nothing like that will ever happen again while you're here."

"He hurt my date and threatened to kill me, so I really hope-"

"Harry, stop-"

"We understand, and we’ve notified the police. Please come in- your meal is on us."

"That won't be necessary-" Carissa tried to deny him of giving them a free meal, but he shook his head and led the two inside personally.

They were seated at a quieter booth at the corner after giving the attendants their coats. The manager promised them that they would make up for their discomfort with their meal fully paid, but it left Carissa uneasy.

"I'm still paying for the meal, Harry," she said, trying to decide between chicken makhani or seafood pasta. Her eyes looked up from the menu to see him focused on the list of drinks.

"No, you're not."

"It wasn't the restaurant's fault."

"It happened on their property, so technically it is."

"You're so stubborn sometimes-"

"So are you," he replied nonchalantly, his eyes darting up to hers. She smirked because she knew he was right- their hardheadedness wasn't the best quality about them, but at least it was something they shared.

"Are you getting something to drink?" she asked, looking over at his menu.

"Ice wine."

"Ice wine? What's the occasion? You do remember we drove here, don't you?"

"Yeah, I just...I don't know, I thought it'd be a treat. We've never had a drink together, so I figured we might as well do it now."

Carissa noticed that Harry wasn't all there- he seemed nervous. He was constantly looking at the door and out at the windows. His attention was divided most of the time, and when their food arrived- seafood pasta for her, a steak for him, and the ice wine- he didn't consume much of it.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, taking a sip of the wine. Its crisp, sweet taste lingered on her tongue and reminded her of Harry. She loved ice wine, but since it costed at least eighty dollars a bottle, she often refrained from indulging in it.

"What?"

"Are you okay?" she repeated. Something wasn't right. His attention was always focused on her, and tonight it was dissipating, fleeting in and out.

"I need to check something," he excused himself suddenly, not looking back at her as he made a sharp turn past the wall that divided the restaurant from the main entrance and facilities. She frowned, wondering why he had to leave her alone so abruptly and without much reason. During Harry’s absence, she saw several waiters and attendants talking together at the front. They looked concerned- perhaps about the incident revolving around Tyson- and were whispering amongst themselves. They seemed to be frantic, trying to get details off of each other to the best of their ability.

Carissa was just about finished her meal when Harry came back to the table.

“Took you long enough,” she snapped. So far, for a first date, things weren’t at their finest. He cracked his knuckles and massaged his neck.

“Sorry, I was just-”

“Checking something, I know,” she glared at him. “Eat your food- it’s cold.”

She brought her glass to her lips but didn’t drink- she merely observed him. He poked his steak with his fork, then set it down as if it were something he’d rather die than eat.

“I...I wanted to ask you something,” he started, looking down at his plate. He adjusted his bowtie so that it was a little looser, then wiped his hands on his pants.

“Anything.”

Harry’s eyes looked up at her briefly, then back down again.

“I...well, I was...I don’t know how to start, really-”

“Take your time. Honestly, there’s no rush,” she gazed at him with sincerity, and he smiled slightly, straightening his back and taking a deep breath.

“I was just...I was meaning to, you know...I just thought…” he stammered. He couldn’t piece the words together, nor string his sentences coherently, nor convey all the things on his mind. It was dangerous, how she made him feel- it terrified him that he, out of all people, felt vulnerable. Still, she sat patiently, listening with great intent. “I...you know what? Fuck it, let’s go.”

“What?” she asked, looking at him with disappointment- she figured that their first date would be filled with laughter and him cracking his stupid jokes and making fun of the waiters when they passed by so she’d have to tell him to stop. But instead, Harry had just requested to leave.

“We’re leaving,” he repeated, getting out of his chair. His knees knocked against the table as he stood up, and people looked over at the small clatter. He grabbed her hand and pulled her in the direction he was headed towards.

“Stop! What the hell is wrong with you?” she whispered viciously. He looked quite angry, though she wasn’t sure why. He didn’t answer her- he just kept dragging her along.

When they got to the coat check, Carissa pried her hand from his grip and he turned away from her to talk to the attendant to get their jackets.

“What’s gotten into you?” she demanded. He didn’t turn around.

“Wait outside, Carissa.”

“I’m not doing anything until you tell me why you’re acting like this! Is it Tyson?”

“Carissa, I said wait outside. I’m getting our coats.”

Harry whispered something to the attendant, and he nodded his head obediently. He approached Carissa and gave her a weak smile, ushering her outside. She rolled her eyes and complied, completely lost and furious. Even through all the misfortunes she faced with Lucas, at least he never left her alone on dates, then proceeded to get up and leave. Her heels clacked upon hardwood floors of the foyer much harder than she would’ve liked. Her arms were crossed against her dress as she made her way outside- it was a waste of time to even put it on, she thought. The only reason that she could think of for Harry’s sudden change in character was Tyson’s manic outburst.

As the attendant opened the front door for her, her eyes were met with the sight of several police cars parked along the road and officers with flashlights looking around the area. The block was cordoned off, and the people waiting to get into the restaurant were stuck behind yellow tape. The commotion of the guests in line provided her with enough background information to keep her in shock for years to come.

“Officer, what’s going on?” asked a woman.

“The guy that was here before escaped- the one that was yelling and causing a public disturbance.”

“Escaped? Is he dangerous?”

“He threatened to kill one of the guests of the restaurant, so we’re keeping our forces on high alert.”

“I heard him just now!” yelled another man further down in the line, “He told someone to get away from the restaurant!”

More confusion bubbled amongst the people, until someone pointed at Carissa.

“That’s her! The guy warned her to stay away!”

The officer looked at Carissa, who felt nervous to the bone. He walked over to her and shook her hand, to which she smiled and said, “Good evening, Officer.”

“Evening, ma’am. Is it true? That the man told you to stay away from here?”

“Yeah. He’s my friend, Tyson Quinn.”

“Friend? Do you know why he’d have a reason to try and get you to leave?”

Carissa thought about it for a moment, then Lucas’ voice popped into the back of her mind: “Go and ask Tyson if you don't believe me”. She shook her head, certain it was just a tidbit of information completely unrelated to her doubts.

“And who did Tyson threaten?”

“My date,” she huffed, remembering Harry’s immaturity and petty behaviour. Just then, the valet brought Harry’s car to the curb and parked it. She peered back into the building to see where Harry was, but he wasn’t at the coat check.

“Ma’am, your car,” said the valet, looking around to make sure Harry wasn’t in sight.

“Thanks,” she trailed off, stepping back to the doors to look for Harry from the outside. Just then, an irritating beeping noise rang out into crisp night- it was barely any louder than a timer on a stopwatch, and it took people several seconds to recognize the noise. They were curious, unsure of what it was, and started to look around at each other to see if their watches were going off. Even the officers looked around for signs of the sound.

All in a sudden, the beeping got faster, almost twice as fast than that of before. Fear struck everybody at the exact same time, but nobody moved. They were still, like stones, and it was as if they believed that if they stayed motionless, nothing would hurt them, much like wasps.

Carissa knew, too, what it was- it was as plain as the nose on her face. She saw many things in her mind: her third birthday cake- the one with the red frosting and yellow sprinkles, her first pair of ballet shoes when she was ten, getting her first award for culinary arts at school when she was fourteen, all her kisses with Harry, and the jasmine pendant hanging around her neck.

Parts of her life before Harry were strewn about in scattered directions- Lucas was in a corner, her old job was in another, her family was somewhere unobtainable- and all she could remember was how much she wanted him there in that moment.

She saw the officer bend down to look under Harry’s car, then jump up to push people away. His face was one filled with fright, the colour drained completely from his skin, his eyes, and it seemed his soul departed him.

“BOMB! IT’S A BOMB! RUN-!”

The last thing Carissa did was push against the heavy doors of the restaurant. Then she saw bright, white lights flooding into her eyes, extending out further than she cared to explore.