My shift ended at 4 the day of our date, and as I was walking out of the back, I saw my cousin Angelica making flowers out of cucumbers and carrots. I stopped, watching her intently for a few minutes. Her steady hands carved the vegetables so perfectly, so artfully.

"Hey, Ange, can you show me how to do that?" I realised that I hadn't gotten you anything, flowers or whatnot. And on a proper date, well, you just should.

She smiled up at me. "Of course. Come on," she waved me over to her. "So you start by peeling it, just leaving a strip of the peel along the top," she demonstrated on a half cucumber, while I stood with a paring knife poised.

I slid the knife around slowly, peeling away the waxy skin. Then I carved the petals of the flower, rotating the blade slowly. "Like this?" I asked, uncertainly.

"Yes," she grinned. "Just let it fall to the cutting board. You'll see."

As I made the last cut, the strip of cucumber flitted down to the cutting board, curling around itself in an almost perfectly formed flower. "Whoa."

Angelica laughed. "See, you've got it."

"That's so awesome. Thank you!" I worked with her to cut several more carrot and tomato and cucumber flowers, and then she showed me how to arrange them in a bouquet, stuck to an orange with toothpicks. I hugged her goodbye and carried it back up the hill with me, so happy that I wouldn't be showing up to yours empty handed.

When I got home, I showered and scrunched my hair with some product so the curls at the ends would be more pronounced, letting it air dry as I got dressed. All the boys except Zayn (who had apparently gone out last night after we got home from the showcase and hadn't come back yet, again) were sitting on Liam's bed watching me get ready.

"You nervous?" Liam asked.

"Hell yes," I answered right away.

"Ahhh, don't be, mate. You know by now she likes you," Louis tried to soothe me.

"Yeah, she does." I smiled. "I'm pretty sure of that, but I'm still anxious, like," I gestured at Liam, "like I said last night, I just don't know where I can take her, how to impress--"

"I don't think ya should look at it like that, Harry," Niall interjected. "Forget about who she is and the idea of living up to her lifestyle. Just imagine she's any other uni student."

"Yeah, that's a good idea, Haz," Liam said.

"You should take her to Michael's," Louis nodded, an odd smirk on his face. "Great food, cool atmosphere, and it won't break your bank. It's a perfect date spot."

I raised my eyebrows. It was. "That's a great idea." I turned to look at them in my black skinny jeans. "I was going to wear a button-down. Too much for the pizza joint?"

"No," they all said at once.

I laughed, "all right. All right." I held up two options, a light floral shirt and a black shirt with a faint, stitched pattern. "Which one?"

"Black," they all said in unison again, just as thunder boomed outside. I pushed the curtain aside and saw the downpour practically flooding the street. Fuck. I looked at my phone. 6:15. Shit. I needed to go now, or I would be late. I grabbed your bouquet from the fridge, slid on my boots, and headed out into the rain.

I was absolutely soaked before I even got to your street, but nothing could dampen my good mood, not even buckets of rain dumped on me from the heavens. Still, I was shivering pretty severely by the time I knocked on your door. The first thing I noticed when you opened it was your bare feet and legs. My eyes traveled up the short blue dress, soaking in the way the fabric skimmed your hips and breasts, to your face, flushed pink.

"You look lovely," I said, shivering again. Lovely wasn't quite strong enough. You looked so beautiful. Bewitching. Breathtaking.

You frowned at me. "Did you walk here?" I kind of wanted to laugh. You had this way of answering the door without any kind of a greeting, just cutting straight to whatever was on your mind. But I just nodded, and your frown deepened. "I could've picked you up."

I was so cold by then, not to mention nervous, absolutely shaking to my bones, and I really had to struggle to get my voice to work. "It wouldn't be a proper first date if I didn't pick you up." I pulled the bouquet from behind my back, smiling at you shyly. My hands were shaking so much the vegetables seemed like they were going to fall off. "And bring you flowers."

Again you just frowned, and my heart sank. You were clearly not impressed. This was going about as bad as it possibly could. I looked like a drowned rat, you probably expected a real bouquet of flowers, and I couldn't even properly pick you up--you were going to have to drive, so you were really taking me out.

"Is that an orange?"

"Yeah." Your face transformed from a frown to... fear, maybe. You looked like you were going to be sick, and I just wanted to crawl back home and die. But then you looked at me, almost imploringly. "Maddie?" I just wanted to understand what was happening.

"Okay, this is going to sound mad, but I need you to stay out here. I'm going to bring you an apple. Please." You swallowed heavily, leaning against the door jamb, and I thought for a moment you were going to faint. "Please, get rid of the orange."

You disappeared for a moment and returned with a green apple. You handed it to me and walked away again without a word, closing the door behind you. Fuck fuck fuck. I sat down on the top step and carefully pulled out each toothpick from the orange, my trembling fingers struggling to grasp them from the cold and my overwhelming nerves. I jogged back out into the rain to toss the orange into your neighbor's rubbish bin, then tapped on your door again, but you didn't answer. I stood there debating. Do I go home, as this has clearly gone to pot? Or do I go in, and see what's going on? Obviously, I couldn't fathom leaving. I was certain I would never get another chance, so I pushed your door open gently, peeking my head in. I could see you, leaning your head against the breakfast bar in the kitchen, and I knew this was more than just a bad start to a first date. Something bigger was happening. I didn't understand what, but I wanted to make it better.

I crossed the entryway to your side, touching your hair and back lightly. "Are you okay?" I just wanted you in my arms. You gave a faint nod of your head. "Do you still want to go out?" I hoped my voice didn't shake as much as I was, so scared you were going to say no. But you nodded again, so I set the bouquet next to you.

You touched one of the flowers with the tip of your finger, and I noted that you had redone your nails since that morning. A pale sparkly lavender. As you stood up straight, you asked if I made it, and when I explained about Angelica, you gave me shit! But it was perhaps the perfect way to break the tension, as you smirked at me.

You stretched up toward me, wrapping one hand around the back of my neck, which gave me goosebumps, and kissing my cheek. "They're lovely. Where are you taking me?"

Being around you, back in the early days, was like a roller coaster where you can't see the tracks ahead of you. I didn't understand everything that was going on, obviously, and I could never tell when you were going to be upset or happy, joking around or breaking down. And please don't take that the wrong way. I understand it now. But it scared me a little that night, to see you go from this intense reaction to a playful smile. I felt like I had to tread so carefully, at first.

"I thought, maybe pizza? Louis and I found this great place. If that's okay?"

"Pizza's great." You slipped on your shoes, and at the front door, you looked up at me with the most beautiful, shy smile. "You brought me flowers."

"I made you flowers."

"You had someone make me flowers." I shook my head, laughing. I kind of loved it when you gave me shit. And then you held your car keys up to me. I was shocked. But as you babbled about whether I was capable of driving, I felt some of my nerves melting away. You had been upset, but you still wanted to go out with me. You liked the flowers I made for you. You trusted me to drive your very nice car. And you were adorable, blushing, flustered. It was the first time I felt that you liked me as much as I liked you.

I took the keys, kissing your hand (smooth) and agreeing to drive. I stopped off at the semidetached to change because my clothes were literally sticking to my skin. And maybe also to catch my breath for a moment.

Liam looked up with concern as I came in. "No go?"

"It's going. I'm just changing." I ran up the stairs and peeled my wet clothes off quickly, leaving them in a heap at the foot of my bed. I pulled on my other pair of black jeans and started to put on the floral shirt.

"Nope." Louis said, leaning against the door.

I rolled my eyes.

"I've got a dark shirt," Liam said, pushing past him to open his side of our closet. "Here. It's plain, but..."

"She knows I'm changing. I don't need to go in identical clothes." I made a face at them like they were ridiculous. But I still took the shirt, pulling it on as I walked down the stairs. "I'll see you guys later," I called. I hurried from the house to the car, trying to save the second outfit from the rain, which had thankfully lightened somewhat. As I buckled in, I asked, "so, are you allergic to oranges?"

And immediately wished I hadn't. Especially when I saw the expression on your face. "Sort of," you hesitated. "It's a long story, and not a fun, nice story."

"Tell me," I urged gently, trying to convey with my tone that you were safe with me, that you could tell me anything. 

Again, you hesitated. Finally, you looked over at me. "I will, another time. But it's really not a first date kind of story. Let's talk about things that are fun and nice. Like you." I couldn't have stopped the smile that spread on my face even if I'd wanted to.

I turned to you, just absolutely beaming. "So, you think I'm fun and nice," I teased.

You rolled your eyes. I had by then realised that an eye-roll from Maddie Turner was not a bad thing, not by a long shot. "Clearly, or I wouldn't be here. I mean, just being hot is not enough to get me on a date." Holy shit.

Holy shit. "You think I'm fun and nice and hot." Holy shit. I wanted to jump around, and it took quite a lot of effort to keep my eyes on the road instead of you. You thought I was hot. No fucking way.

At the stoplight, I looked over to see you had buried your face in your hands, and your ears were bright red. It was unbearably cute. I thought I couldn't like you more, but every moment that I spent with you, my affection for you only grew. I extended my arm out to you, grazing your fingers with mine. You relaxed immediately, and took my hand. "Please, please can we just talk about you," you begged.

I wasn't ready to let you off the hook just yet. "I thought we were talking about me. How fun and nice and hot I am." When you seemed to be getting frustrated instead of having fun, I relented. "What do you want to know?"

"Where are you from?"

"England."

"Duh." Adorable.

"It's a really small town. I'm sure you've never heard of it."

"For god's sake, Harry. What's the fucking place called?"

"And you think the chat shows won't like the real you." Shit. That was apparently too far, from the look on your face. Dammit. I needed to slow down, take a beat before I spoke. "Hey. Hey, Maddie it was a joke. I'm sorry. And for whatever it's worth, I like when you get irritated and say what's really on your mind."

"What is the fucking name of your fucking town?"

I laughed so hard. I was starting to see... You wore your emotions openly with me. No masks. No acting. So, something that hurt, even if only a little, well, it showed. But those little moments weren't as bad or as big as I was maybe making them. You rolled with the punches, giving me so much sass and sarcasm back. It was beautiful. God, you were so fucking beautiful, laughing along with me that night.

I told you a little bit about Holmes Chapel, and it filled the rest of our short drive down to Michael's. We held hands into the restaurant, and when we got up to the counter to order, you smiled at me so shyly. I squeezed your hand, smiling back, and you pressed your face against my shoulder, like you were hiding. God, it was cute. I released your hand and instead wrapped my arm around your back, holding you close against me.

"What do you want to eat?" I asked, caressing your shoulder.

"Anything. I like everything here, except anchovies."

"You've been here?"

"Well, not inside. I get it delivered."

I laughed, "Of course you do." You looked briefly offended but immediately started laughing along with me, tipping your head as if to concede the point. I pulled you back closer to me and kissed your forehead. "So what's your favourite?"

"Honestly, I like everything I've ever tried. The vegetarian with white sauce is really good," I looked up at the menu and read the ingredients. I never in a million years, not for a million bucks, would have ordered that. "And the hot Hawaiian is good, too, but without the mandarin oranges," you finished listing the many good pizzas.

I looked up at the guy behind the register. "We'll have a medium vegetarian with white sauce," no mushrooms, you interjected, "and a medium fiery Hawaiian, no mandarins, and two large drinks."

"Anything else?"

"Have you had their dessert pizza?" You asked.

I raised my eyebrows at you, laughing through my nose. I turned back to the guy. "Can we get a dessert pizza, but like, bring it out a little later?"

"Sure. Cinnamon or apple?"

I looked at you. "Half and half," you mumbled.

I couldn't help myself; I laughed fully. "Half and half," I told him.

"All right. That's 42.45." Why do I still know that precise amount? Because I carry the receipt in my wallet. Still. Forever.

I took my arm off your shoulder as I reached for my wallet. You started to open your handbag, and I rested my hand on your arm. "I've got it." You blushed, closing your bag. "Why don't you get us a table," I gestured with my elbow as I handed three twenties over to the cashier. You took the little number flag and wandered away. "Thanks, mate," I said as I collected my change, leaving the seven bucks and coins in the tip jar and stuffing the tenner in my pocket.

The guy started dinging a little bell on the counter like crazy, and the whole kitchen crew cheered, "thank you!"

I found you in the corner booth, sitting with your back to the restaurant. "What do you want to drink?" I held up the cups.

"Diet Coke," you pushed your hair out of your face to look up at me. "And if they have cherry Coke, add just a shot of that."

I laughed again. Again. "How much cherry? What's the ratio?"

You laughed too. "Fill it almost all the way with diet. Then at the last moment, just like two seconds of cherry."

"Ice?" You nodded. "A straw?" You laughed and nodded. "A lid?" You lifted the small container of Parmesan cheese as if you were going to throw it at me, and I retreated, laughing. I smiled to myself as I walked back to the self-serve soda fountain. You were so precise. Vegetarian pizza, but it had to be with white sauce and without mushrooms. A shot of cherry Coke. No oranges. You were so particular. It was really cute. I filled your cup with ice and Diet Coke, reserving just the very top for cherry. I literally counted as I ran the cherry. One-two, then stopped. I got myself iced tea and carried the cups back. You were sitting sort of in the middle of the bench seat, and I debated for a moment. Across, I could see you. But next to, I could touch you. "I thought I could maybe sit next to you," I said awkwardly, handing you your drink. You gave that shy smile again and scooted over.

"So um," you said, flicking your eyes up to mine, "tell me about your family."

"Okay," I drank a bit of tea. "But first, is your drink mixed properly?"

You sipped dramatically, smiling around the straw and nodding, your eyes never leaving mine. They're so dark, like all the world's treasures are hidden in them, and if I stared long enough, I might discover them all. And so expressive. They glint with mischief when you're being playful and shimmer with emotion when you're sad or scared. I love your eyes. They were the first thing I noticed when I saw you up close that first day. "It's perfect," you said finally, slowly. I'd forgotten the question for a moment, I was so lost in your eyes.

"Oh, um, good. Yeah, so my family," I looked down at the table for a second before I met your eyes again, feeling my face flush red for no reason at all, except I was utterly besotted with you. "My parents split when I was seven," I began, and you interrupted to say yours had too, "and um, my mum is a schoolteacher. She's amazing. Really smart and affectionate," I lifted my arm and rested it behind you, playing with your hair. You were all fucking face rainbows. (You're right, by the way. We do need more words for smiles.) "and my dad is a musician. He plays keyboard for a band called See Ya Next Wednesday."

"I love them," you said excitedly, and then that expressive face of yours crinkled. "Shit, I can't believe I didn't put it together sooner. Des Styles is your dad?"

"Erm...yeah?" She's heard of my dad, I thought in wonder. He'd die to know that. They're a relatively successful band. But not at all mainstream.

"He's a great pianist."

I laughed because it sounded like you said penis. And then you realized what you said and started laughing, and as the waitress brought our pizzas, we were leaning into one another and just totally cackling. You actually had tears running down your face.

"Like father like son," I said, winking at you.

"Oh my god!" You hit me. God, it was amazing. It was so easy to sit there and just be. Just talk. Just laugh. "Wait, do you really play piano?"

"A bit. Not really." I dished a piece of each pizza onto our plates. "I was just playing with the entendre."

"I'd like to play with your entendre," you said, and I let out a loud, squeaky laugh, shocked at your dirty mouth and mind and and and just falling so deeply in love with every little bit of you.

"Well, it's already doubling at the suggestion." I was rewarded with an equally shocked laugh from you.

Your face was so red. I touched your cheek lightly with the back of my fingers. You sort of coughed and looked away, and for the first time, I thought maybe I was more comfortable and confident than you.

"Um, and, um, any uh siblings or pets or--" I cut you off to spare you rambling any further, and told you about Gem and Molly and Robin and his son Mike and how I moved out when I was 16, all between bites of pizza (both of which were really good. Even the veggie). You cut back in and told me that you moved out at 16, too. "Wait, how old are you?"

"18," I chuckled. You raised your eyebrows at me in surprise. "What?"

"I thought you were older," you shook your head. "Must be the tattoos." I nearly spit out my drink. You laughed. We laughed so much that night. Do you remember how loud we were? We joked that they would kick us out soon if we didn't quiet down. "When's your birthday?"

"First of February."

"Mine's the fifteenth." I knew. Of course I already knew. "You're literally two weeks older than me." I nodded, still smiling. I don't think I stopped smiling the whole night. "It's really nice getting to know about you," you said softly, looking up at me with that shy smile again. Fuck, it's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. "I actually realised after I left the club yesterday that I didn't even know your phone number." My heart started to race, fucking rainbow thundercloud in my chest. You wanted my number. Seemingly such a small thing, but everything to me. I held out my left hand, and after a brief pause with a confused look, you dug your phone out of your bag and unlocked it. I typed it in using only my left thumb and therefore had to delete several times. I saved it as Harry xx., at which you grinned and immediately sent me a text. My phone was stuck in my tight pocket, and it would have required taking my arm away from your back, my hand away from your hair, so I just left it.

The waitress brought out the dessert pizza at this point and asked if we wanted take away boxes. We said yes at the same time and started laughing again. It was so ridiculous. It wasn't even funny. We ate a couple bites of dessert pizza and then packed up all the food, dividing it into two boxes. I thought it was so cute how you insisted I take some home with me. And as we got back in your car, you offered to drop me at mine, but I wasn't having it.

"Nope. A proper gentleman on a proper date walks his girl to the door." I bit my lip and looked over at you fastening your safety belt. "And hopes for a kiss." You rolled your eyes at me! I laughed and put the car in gear, driving the short distance back up the hill, past my place and to yours.

I set our pizza boxes on the railing of your porch and put my hand on your waist, closing the distance between us.

"I had, I daresay, the best time of my life with you tonight," you said quietly, reaching for my face. Me too, Maddie. It was the greatest night of my life, to that point. And I've had so many great nights with you since. I couldn't wait any longer. I took you in my arms and kissed you, pressing my body against yours and clutching your back and hair desperately. I wanted you to have no doubt how I felt about you. And I don't mean my double entendre. I wanted you to know I cared, that I was in deep, falling so fast. I wanted you to know without saying it. I pushed my tongue into your mouth, deepening the kiss, tugging on your lips with mine. You let out a little noise from the back of your throat, and I nearly lost it, moaning as I pushed my hips against you. It was so hard, no double entendre intended, to pull away from that kiss.

I leaned my forehead against yours, breathing slowly to let my heart calm down. "What time do you leave tomorrow?"

Your words came out slow and low, your lips brushing against mine as you spoke. "I have to be at the airport by 7."

"In the morning?"

You brushed your lips against mine again. "Night. It's a red-eye."

I kissed you softly. "Can I see you tomorrow before you go?" You smiled around a series of small kisses. "I'll take that as a yes," I laughed, my voice low and husky. You nodded, your arms draped lazily around my shoulders and your fingers playing with the curls at the ends of my hair. "Noon tomorrow, then?" I wasn't sure why you weren't speaking anymore, but I accepted your slight nod and hints of kisses as an affirmative. "Goodnight, love." I stepped away, trailing my hand behind me for a moment. And as I walked down the hill, I kept glancing back, always to find you there, watching me go.

The walk home after that was a bit of a blur to be honest. I remember the way my lips stung from all that kissing. And I remember the sound of my heart pounding in my ears, beating so fast. And I remember the ache in my cock, so hard in such tight jeans.

But unlike previous encounters when I couldn't wait to get home and relieve that ache, this night, I had no intention of wanking off to you. Because this night, what I felt for you wasn't lust, as it had been before. This night, I knew that what I felt for you was love.

~~~~~

Awwww. I had so much fun writing this chapter. I got a chance to add more details to the first date, which was sorta skimmed over in the first book.

Harry and Maddie's love is so beautiful. I'm jealous of her. I'm jealous of a character I created. My brain is so stupid sometimes. 😜

Anyway, I love to read your comments, so please leave me some, and if you wouldn't mind, click that little star to vote. 👇🏻🌟 Thanks! 💖