Hello everyone! I just want to let you guys know that the next 2 or 3 chapters may be a little frustrating and difficult, especially if you've never had experience with commitment issues, but that only lasts for a bit. When writing characters, you need to show their faults before you can introduce growth. I'm sorry if it's rough for a bit, but trust me it doesn't go on for long!! Love you guys!

***

"Charlotte, are you alright to make your way back to your room on your own?" A producer asks from beside me. I nod. I know there will be more cameras in the apartment filming whatever drama has gone down, but I guess I'll have to try and avoid them.

I board the elevator, make my way to the 11th floor, walk down the hallway, and am greeted by 7 girls in the living room as I enter. They all perk up at the sight of me and I'm forced to recount the events of the day with them. For some reason, unbeknownst to me, they truly want to hear every single detail. I never understand why, when the last thing I want to hear from a girl is how her date with Harry went.

An hour passes and they finally allow me to leave. I find that Kiana and Tanya don't reside within our shared room, so I quickly close the door. I reach down into the front of my dress and pick out the note that Harry so graciously left.

8 PM. Front of your hotel. H

Butterflies invade my stomach and I don't know what to do. Is it really worth seeing harry if there's a risk of us being caught?

Yes.

I sigh at how easy it is for me to make the dangerous decision and frown at the fact that Harry is beginning to hold a much larger influence over me than I would like. I tuck the note away safely in my suitcase, before heading back out to the living room. There are still 5 girls all gathered around the sofa's, chatting animatedly about something I don't care to learn.

The front door is just past them, down a short corridor. I have no idea how I'm going to sneak past all the women when I'll have to walk directly in front of them in order to exit the apartment. It's not like I can say I'm going down to get food off the street- they'll get a tad suspicious when I'm not back for another hour or two, or maybe even longer. I have no idea what Harry plans on doing with me.

I'll have to hope none of them happen to be in the living room at 8 and, if they are, I'll have to conjure some sort of distraction. I sigh in frustration and stalk back down the hall. I check the time and find it's nearly 5. I've got just over 3 hours until I'm due to sneak out.

I fall back onto my soft bed and begin to think again. Kiana and Tanya will notice if I'm not in our room sleeping with them, won't they? I'll have to tell them I'm sleeping in another girls room- but which girl? They know that I don't like many of the others on the show. Even if Kiana and Tanya believe me, I'll have to rely on luck to make sure they don't happen to barge into my nominated girls room in search of me while I'm away. My eyebrows scrunch together in concentration, but I can feel a headache coming on and elect to stop thinking. Instead, I lay reading for a while until 6:30 rolls around.

I hop in the shower to quickly wash my hair before drying it and applying some makeup. I hope if any of the others see me on my way to the front door they won't question why I'm done up so nicely right now.

I elect to wear jeans and a simple white t-shirt. I've barely been with Harry when there aren't cameras on us or in the general vicinity, so I've never worn what I truly feel comfortable in. Now, I guess I can.

I know I've left my converse at the front door, a bad habit I'm sure many of the other girls don't appreciate, so I'm unable to slip them onto my feet presently. I grab my wallet and Harry's note, just in case somebody decides to go snooping through my things, and depart from my bedroom.

I don't hear chatter drifting from the living room and sigh in relief as I realize all the girls have gathered in the kitchen instead. Although it's close to the front, they'll be unable to see me leave. I check the time and find it's 7:50.

I walk into the kitchen, attempting to seem casual, and find Kiana and Tanya sitting, discussing something in private, a plate of food between the two of them.

"Hey, girls." I greet them kindly. They both smile up at me.

"Barely seen you today! What've you been up to?" Kiana asks eagerly.

"Well, I was out on my date, then when I got back I obviously needed a nap." I joke and they both laugh.

"I just wanted to let you guys know that Jade asked me to sleep in the extra bed in her room tonight. Don't ask me why, I've got no idea. Best not to ask her either, I don't want her to think I'm making a big deal of it." I lie through my teeth and hope neither of them will question my terrible explanation. It's the best I could think of on short notice.

"Jade?" Tanya questions, obviously confused. I shrug nonchalantly.

"She said she couldn't stand the others in her room, she wanted me to come keep her sane, I guess." I try to cover for myself. They both raise their brows in interest, but don't seem to doubt me. "But that's why you shouldn't bring it up. I don't want anyone else to know she doesn't like her roommates." I advise them, making sure they don't approach Jade and ask her about me while I'm gone. Kiana and Tanya both nod in understanding and I know they'll follow my instructions.

"How come you look like you're ready to go out?" Kiana asks, taking in my appearance for the first time.

"Haven't changed since I got back from the date." I admit to them with a small giggle and they both join me. I don't think they remember what I was wearing when I left and by now they know me well enough to believe that I could fall asleep fully clothed- I take a lot of naps.

"Well, alright then." Tanya laughs while nodding in approval at my explanation. I breathe an invisible sigh of relief as I make conversation with them for a minute or two, then excuse myself. It's now 7:55.

I head out of the kitchen and make my way through the empty, dark living room. I spot my shoes by the front door and check behind me. No one is around. Quietly, I pluck my converse up from the floor, not risking taking the time to put them on, and exit.

I make sure I have my keycard with me before closing the door completely, then run down the hotel hallway towards the elevators. I press the button to summon the transport furiously, afraid that someone might decide to pop out of our apartment. Thankfully, no one does, and I'm able to head down to the lobby without detection.

The elevator dings and the doors open as the clock strikes 8. I cautiously make my way towards the double glass doors at the front of the lavishly decorated lobby. I remain wary- I don't know if any producers are down here right now. I assume they've all retired for the night, along with the cameras, as I don't spot any.

People watch me as if I'm crazy and I don't blame them. I've not got shoes on my feet and I'm sneaking around like I've just stolen the Declaration of Independence. I hastily step outside onto the street and breathe in the fresh air- well, fresh air mixed with the smoke of cigarettes.

People walk by me quickly, all on their way to different places, and I stand obediently just outside the front doors, waiting for Harry. I begin to bend down to put on my shoes and as I'm crouched on one knee, doing up the laces of my sneakers, I see two brown boots come to stand directly in front of me.

I recognize them immediately and glance up hastily. Harry stands over me with a boyish grin covering his face, obviously attempting to mask a chuckle.

"I've got no shoes on!" I exclaim, explaining my awkward position, tying up the laces of my other sneaker before standing.

"Why've you got no shoes on?!" Harry asks in the same tone I shouted in, causing me to laugh.

"Didn't have enough time to put them on while I was leaving." I tell him. He nods, raising his eyebrows in approval, but forgets to wipe the amused smirk off his face.

"Thanks for that, by the way! Had to sneak out like I was in Mission Impossible or something! I've got all these stories set up- if someone knows that I've left-"

"They won't know, don't worry, love" Harry cuts me off.

"Yeah, but what if they realize-"

"They won't, Charlotte." Harry informs me confidently- too confidently.

"What have you done, Harry?" I ask him, suspicious at his certainty that we won't be caught.

"Me? I've not done anything." Harry assures me, but I see a glint in his eyes that says otherwise. I decide not to push it- if he's done something to ensure our situation stays private it can't be good. The less I know, the better.

"Well, shall we?" Harry asks, turning and starting to head down the sidewalk. I match his pace, although not without difficulty, and look up at him curiously.

"Harry, what exactly are we doing?" I ask him. We're walking in the opposite direction of his hotel, so any thoughts I had of doing something less than decent are wiped from my mind. If he doesn't want sex, then what does he want?

I try to remind myself that not every guy is only after my body, but it's become the norm for me by now- something I'm used to.

"We're having our first date." Harry declares, gazing down at me, seemingly more amused than ever.

"We had our first date this afternoon." I remind him. He grabs my hand and intertwines our fingers as I tell him this.

"We're having our first real date." Harry clarifies and I hate that they do, but butterflies arise in my stomach. He obviously noticed I wasn't having the best time earlier, so he wants to take me out to... make up for it?

"That's very sweet of you." I tell him, unsure of how to react. No one's ever done something like this for me before.

"I'm a very sweet person." Harry responds, sticking his chin in the air proudly before gazing down at me, a playful fire alight in his eyes.

"I've noticed." I respond sarcastically and he nudges me in the side with his elbow, causing me to laugh loudly. We walk for a while longer and I feel as though the route we're taking is familiar, but I can't remember exactly where it lead us earlier in the day.

As we stroll I continue to point out things I find interesting, until Harry and I carry on our game from earlier.

"Alright, who'd you reckon was here 50 years ago?" He asks and I can't stop the grin that breaks out across my face. I love that he's taken such an interest in my interests.

"Probably a bunch of stoners, isn't that when all the hippies were around? Oh! Or maybe The Beatles!" I shout excitedly as I realize the period of time Harry's placed us in- the 60's.

"Right then, if I'm not following in Ringo's exact footsteps right now I'm going to be severely disappointed!" Harry exclaims and I giggle. I've come to realize that Harry has a very good sense of humour. He's made me laugh more than anyone else that I can remember.

"Who do you think?" I ask and he seems to think for a second before his eyes light up.

"The rat!" He shouts only half of a thought. My smile falters.

"What are you talking about?" I question through my laughter. I doubt he can even understand what I'm saying I'm giggling so hard.

"The one from that movie in Paris... what's it called. His name is Remy...?" Harry explains further, and my mouth falls open in pure shock at his explanation.

"What are you on about?!" I half laugh, half shout.

"Ratatouille!" Harry yells, causing me to jump and a couple people in passing to shoot us dirty glares.

"Oh god, Harry." I sigh in pretend disappointment, bringing my free hand to cover my face in shame.

"That's a great movie! What are you on about?!" He giggles from beside me. His shoulders bounce up and down jubilantly, tugging my hand connected to him along with them.

"That movie didn't really happen, Harry. You know that, right?." I ask him teasingly, letting mock concern take over my tone. Harry doesn't respond, only laughs. Our game continues for another 15 minutes before we're crossing a busy road and pulling up to a large fence.

"Where are we?" I question. I realize I've been blindly following Harry for the better part of the past half an hour. He could be leading me anywhere.

"You'll see." He smirks from beside me. I sigh, but don't inquire further, instead remaining faithfully by his side. We stroll along the side of the large fence, take a right turn, then continue on beside a very tall wall made of brick, or maybe marble- I can't quite tell in the dark. It seems to be enclosing a large building.

We walk for another minute or two and I find that we've arrived at large, metal gates. I look up and read in large letters:

'Museè de l'armeè'

"Harry..." I trail off, realizing just where he's taken me.

"I know you really wanted to go today, so I thought I might take you now." He admits sheepishly from beside me. When I'm able to tear my eyes from the magnificent building before me, I look to Harry. His eyes are searching my face desperately. I wonder what exactly he's looking for, then I realize- approval. 

"Harry, this is amazing!" I exclaim ecstatically. I can't believe he remembered and I can't believe he would walk me all the way back here.

"Shall we go in?" Harry asks, beginning to walk forwards towards the gates. However, I stay put, still too shocked to move, anchoring him to the spot.

"Something wrong?" He asks, looking a little apprehensive, as if scared what my response will be. Instead of answering him, I just stand and take in his features. The way his short hair falls perfectly across his forehead, how the curve of his lips and the angle of his jaw come together to make him look absolutely magnificent in the dim light.

I tug him towards me, his hand still connected to mine and, without waiting another second, I reach up and place my lips to his. I can feel his surprise, but quickly his lips melt into mine and we remain locked in our kiss for a few moments before I pull away.

"What was that for?" He asks, a large smile covering his face as his cheeks heat- I can tell, even in the dark.

"It was a thank you." I inform him, before walking forward and pulling him along behind me. I can't stop from smiling, not even when I reach the security guard or the cashier selling us tickets. They must think I'm crazy, but I don't care. I've barely ever felt this happy my entire life.

The fact that Harry cares enough to take me to do something that, honestly, he probably would rather not do, but that he knows I love, sends warmth coursing through my body. I want to shrug the feeling off and reason with myself: I'm not feeling this way because I like Harry as anything more than a friend with some benefits. I'm feeling this way because he's executed a nice gesture and I've not experienced one of those in a long time. That's all.

We walk into the museum together, and I find it's relatively empty. I know it's about to close, and appreciate the fact that Harry and I almost have the place to ourselves.

I drag him through the halls containing ancient weaponry, and read the various information boards aloud to him, pausing every once in a while to weigh in with my own anecdotes about certain facts. Harry nods along and hums appreciatively from behind me, examining everything in the display cases as carefully as I do.

I find though, as we shift into the modern war section, that Harry seems to be staring at me more than anything contained within the museum. I'm forced to disconnect our hands so I can rush from one display to another, eager to intake all the information being presented.

We arrive in the hall containing memorabilia from World War II and I want to melt at how excited I feel. I respect that the war was nothing to be loved, but everything about the history of it intrigues me- more than anything I've ever encountered.

We walk slowly, but surely, through the hall as I pause to admire every piece of old uniform, weapon, and note passed between diplomats. I babble on to Harry as I relay every bit of information I can remember about the war and point out excitedly to things I find particularly interesting.

"Look at this board! Talks about the evacuation of Dunkirk." I exclaim, tugging on Harry's shirt until he stands beside me.

"What's that?" He questions, cocking his head to the side in interest as we both stare up at the board containing the explanation of events.

"Great story- all these civilian vessels evacuated men off this French beach. They ended up saving so many more people than they thought they could." I attempt to fill Harry in briefly and he nods with understanding.

"Very interesting... someone should make a movie." He comments.

"Yeah, they should." I agree before moving on to the next piece of memorabilia.

Once I've thoroughly explored that hall and the next 3, I decide I won't torture Harry any longer. I know he's pretending to be interested for my sake and I appreciate it, but I know he can only fake enthusiasm for so long before he'll have had enough.

We exit the museum, not before I buy a t-shirt and book containing more information on the history contained within, and carry on walking. I assume we'll be headed back to our respective hotels now as I come to find that it's nearly 10. However, Harry leads us past the turn that will take us back in the right direction. I look up at him curiously.

"Where could we possibly be going now?" I ask. "Harry, you've really done more than enough for tonight." I assure him. I feel almost bad that he's put so much effort into making me happy when I've barely done anything.

"I'm not finished yet." He discloses mysteriously from my right, casting a sideways glance in my direction, another small smirk crossing his face. I sigh in exasperation, but don't argue.

I find we're back on another busy street and when we come to the end we face a long river, twinkling lights running along both sides, lighting up the darkness that threatens to engulf it.

Harry pulls me towards it, and we come to walk right along a path parallel to the river, before stopping at an average sized boat. It's top deck is completely open and, upon closer inspection, I realize there are people sat around tables covering it.

"What is this?" I ask Harry as he pulls us forward towards the dock the boat remains stationed at.

"Dinner." He answers simply, before greeting the waiter with a 'bonjour' and leading me upstairs. We arrive on the top deck and are seated adjacent to the guard-rail overlooking the water. The view is unbelievable- I can see all the way down the river and, in turn, all the buildings lining either side of it.

As we sit, my eyes grow wide and I turn to meet Harry's. Again, I see the same look on his face, searching for my approval. I grant him what he desperately seems to need with one simple smile and he appears satisfied.

"Harry, I can't believe we're here... it's absolutely amazing." Is all I can think to say as he watches me intently, obviously gaging my reaction.

"You deserved a surprise." Harry tells me and I want to enjoy his comment, but I feel off.

"I've not got anything for you... you deserve something nice, too. You deserve to be happy." I confess, a little disappointed in myself.

"Love, making you happy makes me happy." Harry coos from across the table with an honest smile. I can't help but blush and glance down at my empty plate to escape his intense gaze. How am I supposed to respond to that? No one's ever talked to me the way that Harry has. I've not been equipped with the correct skills to deal with these kinds of situations.

When I've finally gained the courage to look up again, Harry's still staring at me. His hands are clasped in front of him and he rests his chin on both of them. I study how his hair blows slightly in the breeze, how the soft lighting of the single candle adorning our table illuminates his face in the most exquisite way.

"Seeing you happy makes me happy." Is all I can think to respond and with an action that's becoming a lot more common than I'm comfortable with, I tell Harry the truth. I've come to realize that when he smiles, I want to smile. When he laughs, I laugh along with him, when I see the pure, indescribable delight in his eyes that I've seen so often today, my insides light in warmth.

Harry sits quietly for a moment, unmoving, seeming to take me in. I can't imagine what he's seeing right now and I don't understand why he seems to look as if he enjoys it so much, but just his stare is making me blush and I really, really don't like it.

Where's the girl that came here knowing she would walk away unscathed, uncaring and unmoved as always? Where's the girl who confidently felt that nothing would arise from a relationship with a man whose name she couldn't even remember properly?

I miss when girls used to steal Harry away or talk about their deepest, darkest fantasies with him and I didn't feel a tiny irk of jealousy in the pit of my stomach. I miss the days when I could look at Harry without imagining him doing things to me that have never been done before.

I need to get a hold of myself. I am still the same girl that walked in here nearly a month ago. Nothing has changed- I still need money and I still know that I won't be engaged to Harry by the time this dumb show stops rolling and we can all go home. What I'm feeling right now is a product of the producers design-

I've been sent to bloody Paris, with a very, very good looking guy, and he's treating me nicely. I've not experienced that before in my life and it's messing with my head. That's all I'm feeling right now. It's not like I'm experiencing a true connection with Harry, I've just been thrown into very favourable circumstances. I could be with anyone right now and I would be feeling exactly the same if they acted in the way Harry is.

I calm myself, feeling reassured- they aren't real feelings- if I'm barely feeling anything at all. I'm getting caught up in the magic of the show. All I need to do is gain a little perspective. There's no need for me to get upset when Christie tells me about the next make out session between her and Harry because, in the end, none of it will matter. I'll be walking away alone, just as I came, and I will have the money I need. At least that's what I hope.

The hard part is I have to act as if I'm falling in love with Harry and I've made it so believable that I've begun to fool myself, too. That stops now. I'm jerked out of my thoughts by Harry's voice across from me.

"Charlotte?" He questions quietly, still staring at me as he had been when I tuned out.

"Oh, sorry, yeah." I murmur, shaking my head a little to clear the realization I've just had from my thoughts. I need to focus on making Harry like me right now because I need to stick around. Sure, he gave me the rose on our date today, but him and I both know that insurance is bullshit. If he decides he doesn't want me anymore, he can revoke my security on the drop of a dime.

"You ok?" He asks, sounding genuinely concerned, and I have to remind myself once again that none of this is real. He doesn't really like me as anymore than a friend at best- a friend who can give decent hand jobs from time to time.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Just... trying to figure out what I did to deserve this. To deserve you." I begin to pull out all the stops. If I can make this dinner go well, I know for a fact that my first pay check will be coming in by the time Monday rolls around. I ignore the butterflies that arise in my stomach when I see the happiness that invades Harry's expression at my comment.

"You didn't have to do anything. You're a good person Charlotte, you'll never deserve anything less." Harry tells me from across the table. It's a sappy comment and probably would have made me gag under different circumstances, but I can't right now, not when I'm trying to save face.

I consider his comment as a whole and it takes everything in me to stop from scoffing. A good person? Sure, Harry, just wait until you learn why I really signed up to be on this show, then you can decide if I'm a good person.

As we both go quiet I start to think about the reason I'm here in the first place. Why has Harry chosen me, of all the girls on the show, to take out on a date like this in the first place? He's certainly not done it for all the others chosen for a one-on-one. I know every girl stayed at the house the entire night after their date- I could hear them gushing about how their time with Harry went from downstairs.

So why me? Harry has told me before that he only wants me and all that other crap. How come? I just don't understand it.

"Why have you taken me out tonight?" I ask suddenly from across the table. Harry's smile falters by the slightest as he receives my question.

"I already told you; it's our first date." He points out, taking a sip of his water. I fear he may begin to become frustrated as he did a couple nights ago when I asked him about the other girls, but this time it's different. I'm not angry with him, I'm simply curious.

"You know that's not what I mean." I say and the understanding that flashes within Harry's eyes tells me all I need to know- he comprehends exactly what I'm asking.

"Haven't we already gone through this?" Harry responds, sounding a little exasperated. He blinks for a split second too long, as if trying to collect himself.

"You didn't take Perrie, or any of them, out on another date after their one-on-one. I just want to know... why me?" I ask him what I've been wondering since the day I arrived on the show and he presented me with the first impression rose.

"Because I didn't want to take them out on another date." Harry mumbles into his cup of water as he takes another sip. When he looks back up, I assume he's expecting to see some sort of accusatory look coming from me, but he doesn't. I simply want an answer- regardless of what it may be.

"But why not? Perrie is perfectly nice." I reason with him, cocking my head by the slightest as I try to understand. I've never considered myself desirable. Certainly not in the way Harry treats me as if I am.

"Yes, Perrie is perfectly nice, but I wouldn't take her out again like with you." Harry admits and I feel a twinge of frustration. Why won't he just give me a straight answer? Is it because I'm nice? Does he like my personality? Or maybe my body...

"Is it just because you want to fuck me the most out of the lot of them?" I ask a question I've been wondering for a while now. Harry seems very intrigued with my body, constantly, and I've considered the fact that maybe he's shown me such bias because he wants to get into my pants. Wouldn't be the first time...

When I look up to gage Harry's reaction his mouth is slightly open and his eyes are wide with apparent shock.

"Charlotte, god, no, of course not- I mean, I want to, obviously, but no... that's not the only reason I like you!" Harry exclaims, appearing a little dumbfounded. "You really think I'd do something like that?" He asks. I can sense a little hurt in his tone.

"No, I was just wondering." I tell him the truth a little too casually. The prospect Harry so vehemently just denied doesn't upset me, not really. He shakes his head in disbelief and looks away. He's becoming upset again, but I'm unable to stop myself.

"So, why take me out and not Perrie?" I question again softly. I try to sound as least demanding as possible, but it's hard when all I want is a straight answer from him.

"Because Perrie's not you." Harry says simply, if a tad frustratedly. I can't bring myself to look him in the eye right now, so I fiddle lamely with the napkin adorning my lap.

"Please elaborate." I urge him a little desperately.

"Perrie doesn't look like you, Perrie doesn't say the same things you do, and Perrie doesn't make me feel the way you do... None of them do." Harry finally slightly clarifies. He can't be telling the truth right now, can he?

"Harry..." I trail off. He must be lying to me. I know if I accuse him of that, though, he'll become agitated once again. But there's no other possible explanation for his words. I feel a little sad. If, by some miracle, what he's telling me now is true, he won't be happy to discover why I'm really on the show. If what he's saying is false, I'll know that he's said the exact same things to every other girl on this show and that he's been lying to me this whole time.

"Charlotte, I told you not to doubt me, didn't I?" Harry snaps, a little authority taking hold just beneath his tone. My head shoots up to attention. I've not heard Harry speak like this before- so demanding, so domineering- it causes me to respond promptly. I know I can't keep posing questions, he won't tolerate it much longer. I'm going to have to shut up and appease him for the time being.

"I don't doubt you. I believe you." I concede, before stretching my arm out and taking his hand delicately in mine. "Harry, I'm grateful for everything you've done for me." I start to suck up, attempting to make amends.

Even if I possess no feelings towards him and he's currently lying straight to my face, I can't deny that we had a good time tonight. I don't want to ruin that and put my place on the show in jeopardy. Harry's distressed expression slowly melts from his face, coming to be replaced with a small smile. The flash of angry Harry I saw is instantly gone.

"And I'm grateful for you." He tells me earnestly, quietly, as if he's embarrassed. I've never experienced a guy being so nervous around me before, much less have their embarrassment stem from just the words that they speak to me. I like that I seem to have this effect on Harry. I nod once in appreciation, making eye contact for a few seconds, before searching around the top deck for a waiter.

"Guess we should order, hey?" I ask with a grin, desperately endeavouring to switch the subject before I have another chance to irritate Harry. He raises his hand, flagging down our server, and I order the cheapest thing I can spot on the menu- a simple salad. Old habits die hard and I'll be damned if I pay 50 euros for a burger- I don't care what restaurant I'm at.

"Sure you don't want anything else?" Harry asks, concern fleetingly crossing his features as the waiter walks away with our orders.

"Oh, no, no, I'm fine. Not very hungry." I reply, waving my hand casually as my stomach growls. I refuse to have Harry pay my share of the bill, but I also know I can't afford much else on the menu. I can eat a perfectly fine meal back at the hotel where the rest of the girls reside, free of charge.

"Alright, then." Harry responds, although he sounds wary. I shrug off his reaction and don't push the subject further. My financial situation is not something I want to discuss with him, especially when it depends on my future success on the show.

For the rest of our meal the jokes and easy, light conversation from earlier make a return and, thankfully, serious topics evade our discussion. I like when I'm able to talk with Harry in such a way- I've not had a connection like this with someone in years. Of course when I think connection, I think as a friend. Just because we can talk and understand each other well does not mean I have to be romantically engaged with him, it just means I like spending time with him- especially when good conversation escapes me for the majority of the time I spend with the other contestants.

Our food arrives and I come to notice that we're both slow to finish thanks to the constant chatter between us. I don't have enough time to dig into my salad and raise the fork to my mouth before I'm due to respond to Harry's witty quips. I don't mind though, even if my stomach is starting to twist into painful knots of hunger- it's worth it.

When we've finally finished, about an hour and a half later, Harry and I stand. He leads me off the boat with a reassuring hand placed to the small of my back. I desperately fight the small sparks sent through me at his touch and shrug them off, attributing the feeling to the breeze.

As we climb down the steep steps and off the boat-restaurant hybrid, we reside on the busy street once again, still surprisingly alive though it's nearly midnight.

"I'm just going to run to the washroom, stay here, alright?" Harry asks softly, leaning down until his lips just graze the tip of my ear. I nod and smile up at him and watch as he quickly jogs across the street to a public bathroom.

I step to the side of the path, so as to avoid all those who wish to pass, and I'm content leaning against a tall lamp post watching everyone stroll by. At a moment like this, I normally would have my phone in my hand, but right now that's impossible. I'm forced to take in the city before me and, honestly, I'm grateful.

I enjoy myself as another minute or two passes, until out of the corner of my eye I see a man approaching me. I turn just in time and find that he stops directly in front of me. He's tall- as tall as Harry, if not even taller. Broad shoulders make up his upper body and I can see his biceps straining against the tight fabric of his sleeves. He looks like the kind of guy I might typically go for if I was back in New York.

"Um, hi, can I help you?" I ask. I don't attempt to sound cold or withholding. I've become quite accustomed to guys approaching me every now and then.

"Yes." He responds with a thick accent, but nonetheless in English. I smile politely up at him and await his next words. Maybe he needs directions? I guess I won't be very much help with that, though.

"I was wondering what your name is?" The man before me asks, his words a little slower than normal, although they still make sense. Obviously English isn't his first language, but I can understand him perfectly fine.

"I'm Charlotte, nice to meet you." I respond promptly, smiling wider. It's habit for me now to act like this around a man. Although, sometimes my kindness results in a fault. I've lost the ability to realize when someone is flirting with me and usually assume them to just be kind rather than interested in me.

"Very nice to meet you, too. I'm Jack." He tells me and I nod, my eyebrows raised a little in expectation. I'm not sure exactly what he needs from me. "I wanted to know if I could, uh, have your phone number?" Jack asks, polite enough.

I subconsciously reach for the phone that usually resides in my back pocket, but that now eludes me. I realize that I was about to give him my number- I can't do that, can I? Not now that I'm on this stupid show and I don't have my phone with me.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I don't have my phone." I apologize, shrugging while taking the tiniest step back away from him. Best not to tease myself when I know he's something that I can't have. I find that I'm less attracted to him than I would have been a month ago. He's too broad, not lean enough for my taste. His hair is too straight and short, and the simple blue shirt and cargo shorts he wears don't tempt me in the way they might have before. What's happening to me?

"Oh, that's too bad. You are very pretty." He tells me with a charming smile and, automatically, I giggle and flash him a large, albeit shy, grin.

"Thank you." I reply, only trying to be polite. I find he's moved further toward me, completely negating the fact that I've been trying to subtly back away from him. I'm not uncomfortable- I know how to handle myself- but I have a feeling this man won't be satisfied with my answer.

"Well, do you want to come out for a drink with me?" Jack asks another question. The smile does not fade from my face as I try to decide exactly what to tell him. I can't go out for a drink with him, although it doesn't sound too bad. I produce another half hearted laugh.

"I'm sorry, I can't, I have to go somewhere, I'm actually waiting for someone right now." I say, speaking a little slowly to make sure he can understand me. Instead of stepping away, he moves forward once again and his hand comes to rest on the lamp pole I've been leaning against, right above my head. I'm just about trapped underneath him, but still at least a foot or two of distance remains between us.

I don't stop smiling, and begin to wonder if he's simply misunderstood my words. He doesn't sound exactly fluent, after all. However, as I begin to repeat, in simpler words, that I can't go with him, I hear a loud shout from across the street.

"Hey!" A deep voice rumbles, then I hear fast footsteps advancing towards us. Before I have time to maneuver away from the man named Jack, Harry is by my side, pushing him away for me.

"What the hell are you doing?" Harry accuses Jack from beside me, pulling my arm lightly so I stand behind him instead of to his side.

"I wasn't- I was just asking-" Jack looks flustered, taking a couple steps away now. Sure, he's broader than Harry, but I wouldn't bet on him if a fight were to break out.

"She's taken. Keep moving." Harry retorts gruffly, glaring the man down until, eventually, he leaves. After he's made his way down the street and we can no longer see him, Harry turns to me.

"Are you ok?" He asks, although he doesn't sound as sympathetic as he should if he thinks I was being attacked.

"Harry, I'm fine, he didn't do anything. He was just asking for my number." I fill him in on what happened.

"Did you give it to him?" Harry asks and I can sense an acute anger within him threatening to boil to the surface.

"What? No! Of course not. I don't even have my phone." I exclaim in disbelief, although a slow burn of guilt starts to build in my stomach. I had considered giving my number to the man named Jack. The only thing that stopped me initially was my lack of cellphone. If I had had it with me, would I have stopped myself? I try not to let the fact that I was thinking about indulging Jack show on my face. The way Harry is talking to me right now is unprecedented- it's the same as what I noticed earlier at dinner, but this isn't just a flash of anger. This is in full view for me to behold.

"You were smiling at him." Harry remarks and he sounds as if he's not too happy with me. This is not good. I know I wasn't really going to go with that man, I wasn't. As soon as I started to look at him, really look at him, I didn't find him attractive. I realize I didn't find him attractive because he didn't look like Harry. The thought scares me but soothes me at the same time. I was going to stay honest. I was going to stay loyal to Harry, no matter how it may have looked from the outside.

"He asked me to come get a drink with him and I told him no. I wasn't rude to him or anything, I just smile when I'm nervous, ok? I wouldn't do something like that to you." I confess to Harry earnestly, looking down at the ground as soon as I finish my speech. When I've gained the courage to meet his gaze once more, the anger I noticed is gone, but the dominance is still present. I feel the familiar twinge of longing in my stomach, but this is not the time for those kinds of thoughts. Harry stays silent and I can't tell what he's thinking. Is he going to kick me off the show right here and now? Is he going to kiss me? I can't tell.

"You can believe what you want, but I'm not a bitch alright? I wouldn't do that." I defend myself once again, starting to doubt my words more and more as the seconds tick by and Harry grants me no answer. I cross my arms over my chest protectively and shuffle my feet. I look away from Harry again, this time to the side, desperate to be met with anything else but his piercing gaze.

A few more seconds pass before he finally makes his response.

"Of course I believe you." He sighs, looking down and running his hand through his hair. He seems almost remorseful at accusing me of such a thing, but I don't blame him. I did almost go for it. Almost.

"Alright, well, lets carry on then." I tell him, grabbing his hand with mine and pulling him back along the sidewalk towards our hotels. He takes my hand, but we walk in silence for a good 5 minutes. I can feel something starting to ensue that I rarely experience when I'm around Harry- awkwardness.

"You were quite sexy, back then, shouting and all." I attempt to start joking around with him again. He doesn't seem angry, just disheartened, and I can't tell why. I may be able to cheer him up before the night is over- I don't want it to be a total bust.

Harry turns to me with a small smirk and a raised brow.

"Really?" He asks and, thank god, his tone seems to be moving away from sulky and starting more towards sultry.

"Yes, very sexy when you get like that." I attempt to tease him, but when I meet his eyes again, I can't tell if he knows I'm joking or not. Well, technically, I'm not joking. When that side comes out of him- the demanding, dominant, bossy Harry who takes what he wants... I shiver as I think about it.

"'Cause you're mine, love." Harry informs me, straight faced as he delivers his line, his voice huskier than usual. I should be mad that he thinks of me as his possession, but I know that's not what he means. He just seems to be a jealous person, exactly like myself. His words cause another shudder to run through me. I like the sound of what he's stating.

"I'm yours, am I?" I continue to taunt him, thankful that his mood has improved and the topic of conversation has turned to something I'm very, very interested by.

"Yes, and any man who doesn't know that will be in for it, you should know that by now." Harry almost growls, making me feel faint. How can he be having this effect on me after muttering just two sentences? I know it's not every girls cup of tea, but I've always liked to be treated as Harry's treating me now- as his shining, golden prize, not for anybody else, only him. Of course, I've never experienced that sort of treatment, not ever having a boyfriend and all. Now that I am experiencing it, though, I've found that I enjoy it. A lot.

"I won't argue with you, then." Is all I can think to retort as I get lost in my thoughts of commanding, assertive, powerful Harry.

"Better not." He laughs and, just like that, the side that I've come to fancy so much is gone, having been replaced by normal, sweet, cheerful Harry. I find that I appreciate both these aspects of his personality very much, albeit in different ways.

A large sigh escapes me at the fact that I'm unable to bring Harry up to my hotel room tonight when there are so many things I want him to do to me right now. He doesn't notice this as he continues to propel us forward, a newfound spring in his step.

We arrive at my hotel much sooner than I would have liked, now residing just in front of the entrance, Harry's hands around my waist hugging me goodbye.

"I guess I'll see you at the next rose ceremony." I tell him melancholically, staring up so as to take in every feature before I'm forced to part from him. I may not have feelings for him, but I can still appreciate his devastatingly good looks.

"I'll see what I can do." Harry winks at me and I can't help the smile that forms on my face as I remain locked in his tender embrace.

"I'll miss you." I throw in for the hell of it, knowing it will earn me points. My sentiment may be somewhat true, but not in the way he thinks. Harry doesn't respond, but only leans down and places his lips gently to my own, now bringing both hands to hold either side of my face delicately. I can feel the warmth emanating from his palms as well as his tongue as he slips it into my mouth carefully. I kiss him back, relishing in the sensation, before he pulls away, much too soon for my taste.

"I've got one more thing for you." Harry tells me once he's pulled away, a wicked smile adorning his features. I raise my brow in expectation and wait silently as he reaches down and digs into his pocket.

He produces a blue, rectangular, plastic card and instantly I know what he's trying to give to me- his room key.

"Harry, I already told you it's not a good idea for me to have this!" I sigh in exasperation, but Harry's outstretched hand does not lower, instead moving even closer.

"Charlotte, take the bloody card." Harry urges me, strict, but playful- I can sense the sarcasm in his voice. I roll my eyes but give in anyway. I receive Harry's room key and tuck it into my own pocket, not eager for any girl to see it in my hands if they were to catch me upon arrival. Harry nods once in satisfaction and flashes me a grin.

"Good." He announces in approval, seemingly surveying his work as he looks me up and down briefly. He leans in for one last peck and pulls away quickly once again.

"Couldn't help m'self. Bye, Charlotte." Harry bids me a farewell, shooting one last adoring glance in my direction before walking away. I'm left stunned for a couple seconds on the pavement, blown away by Harry's kiss, by his touch, and by the entire night I've just experienced.

***

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L