(No Control | Holding Me Ransom - 69 - I Just Wanna Tell The World That You're Mine)

We spend the next couple of days apart while I fulfil more One Direction commitments, and this time away from each other gives me the opportunity to mull over the idea of us moving in together. I know it's a huge step, and I know it would be harder to keep our relationship hidden from the public if Jess was living with me. But now I've thought of it, I can imagine nothing else. I'm conscious that I don't want to blurt it out without thinking about it, and ponder whether to make it a big gesture, or whether doing so would put undue pressure on her to accept. I mean, it's not a proposal but it is a sort of commitment, in a way. Perhaps I should test the water first, before I bellyflop in with an almighty crash.

We're due to go out for dinner on Friday night, and as I'm getting ready I'm already thinking of ways to drop the idea into conversation. I stand in front of the mirror as I button my shirt, sounding out lines in my head. So, I was thinking about us, and moving our relationship to the next level... No, for fuck's sake that's awful. Have you given any thought about the next step for us, in the future? Closed question - if she just says no it leaves me nowhere to go. Plus, I sound like a drip. I've been thinking about us lately, and thinking how great it would be if you were here all the time. Fucking hell, that just sounds creepy. Why am I such a loser?!

I spray on some aftershave, rinse a shot of mouthwash, give my hair one last tousle with my hand and make my way downstairs just as the doorbell rings to signal Paul has arrived. I quicken my pace and trip over my own feet, stumbling into the wall in the open hallway and feeling my face grow hot with embarrassment, even though no one has seen me. Swallowing a laugh, I grab a jacket and my keys, check the monitor to make sure it is indeed Paul outside, and open the door.

"Evening, H," he greets me. "What's amused you?"

I'm clearly still smirking at my own clumsiness, and I chuckle to myself. "Nothing."

"We picking up Jess?" Paul confirms as I climb into the back seat.

"Yep, then to Highgate Road - the restaurant called the Carob Tree."

"Nice," Paul remarks, and I smile to myself as I buckle my seatbelt and sit back into my seat.

The car is warm and comfortably heated; the air outside cold and frosty. I jig a little on the spot on Jess's doorstep as I wait for her to come down the stairs, blowing on my freezing fingers. When she finally appears, she literally knocks the breath from my body - she looks absolutely stunning in a pair of tight black skinny jeans that cling to every delicate curve, and a dark pinky-red top beneath her jacket that compliments her skin tone. She's made an extra effort with her makeup and is wearing more than usual, but rather than looking thick and heavy the effect is light and polished. 

"Wow," I breathe. "You look absolutely incredible." I can't help looking her up and down, drinking in the sight of her. I want this image to be burned into my eyelids for the times we're apart. Without trying to be corny, she has no idea just how beautiful she is. And I know she's worried about what the media and the fans will say about her when we eventually go public, but I wish that just for a second she could see herself through my eyes, so she could understand she has nothing to worry about.

I falter, wondering whether I should say what I'm thinking, and then deciding to go for it. "OK, I know you're not ready just yet, and I'm in no way pushing you," I begin, "but... I can't wait until we're public. I can't wait to go out with you on my arm and show you off to the world. I'm sorry. I know you're not a piece of meat, but I can't help admiring you. I could stare into your eyes forever."

Even in the streetlit carpark I can tell she's blushing as she gently admonishes me, with no conviction.

"You don't know how beautiful you are," I add, curling my index finger under her chin to guide her eyes back to mine, and she smiles in spite of her shyness.

"There's a song in there somewhere," she teases, and I give an exaggerated sigh before fixing my eyes on her and forcing myself to look serious.

"I love you," I tell her, kissing her lightly on the lips (I don't want to be wearing her lipstick to dinner).

"I love you too," she smiles. "And just for the record, you look absolutely amazing tonight yourself."

"Pfft," I huff, waving the compliment away and leading her to the car. I open the back door for her and she raises her eyebrows in surprise before she realises that I'm not driving, Dale is.

"Hi," she greets Dale. "I assumed Harry would be driving tonight."

"I thought we could relax and have a couple of drinks, as it's Friday night," I explain.

"You're planning on getting me drunk, Mr Styles?!" She's pretending to be outraged. 

"That depends," I play along. "Would it lure you into bed?"

She delivers a well-aimed gentle smack on my leg.

"It's a good job I know you're joking."

"Who's joking?" I grin, and she shakes her head goodnaturedly, grinning out of the window.

The restaurant is unsurprisingly busy, considering it's a Friday night, but no one really looks up as we are taken to a small table tucked in a corner; everyone is clearly busy enjoying themselves in the run up to Christmas. We order a bottle of red wine to drink, and examine the menu. It all looks so incredible, I can't decide what to have. I peek over the top of my menu at Jess, who is engrossed in the starters page, my mind suddenly far from Greek cuisine and now fixed upon the subject of her moving into my house. My mouth is suddenly dry, and my heart is thumping. The waiter appears at our side and offers the bottle of red wine for me to try, but I just accept with without going through the motions of trying it. I would never reject it anyway, even if I didn't like it. I would just order and pay for something else instead. 

Once both glasses are poured and Jess is absorbed in her menu again, I take a large swig of red, followed by a deep breath.

"Do you want to stay at mine tonight?" 

She glances up, one eyebrow raised and a smirk pulling at the corners of her mouth, no matter how much she tries to hide it. "Well that's very forward of you," she pouts. "You haven't even got me drunk yet."

I grin, in spite of my stupid nerves. "I could already tell you were going to be a pushover," I tease. "Are you denying it?" I add, after she casts me a look of pretend outrage, but she seems suddenly tongue tied, and the longer her silence continues the more my smirk widens and the higher my own eyebrow rises.

"Cat got your tongue, Miss Bradshaw?" I enquire watching the colour in her face deepen. "Harry Styles moment?"

"No," she replies, with a shake of her head. "A My Harry moment. Full on, no holds barred, oh-my-god-he's-mine moment. Not because of your job. Just because you're so lovely, I can't quite believe this is real."

OK, I wasn't expecting such a blunt declaration, and  can now feel the heat rising in my own cheeks. How is it she can still make me feel this way, after all this time together?

The waiter arrives to take our orders, and I'm aware I'm blushing, grinning and looking stupidly in love. I don't even care.

Once he has disappeared in the direction of the kitchen I lean forward on the table and stare into Jess's eyes. "Anyway, you never answered my invitation to stay over tonight."

"Yeah, that's fine," she says casually. "I don't have my toothbrush, or a change of clothes though."

"I have a spare one," I offer, equally as casually, although my heart is now pounding harder as her answer has just taken this conversation exactly the way I was hoping it would eventually go tonight. "And you can borrow a tshirt in the morning or something."

"What about to sleep in?" she asks. The look on her face gives her away: she might be acting innocent, but she knows exactly she is doing.

"We both know you won't be sleeping in anything."

"Harry!" she protests halfheartedly, and I chuckle to myself.

"You should leave one at my house," I tell her. "A toothbrush, I mean. For when you stay over 'n' stuff." Oh God. I could just ask her now. Should I? I'm not ready. I haven't prepared what I'm going to say. I thought I'd have the opportunity to build up to it. 

Fuck it, I'm going for it. Here goes. Deep breath. "Or... maybe -"

"Your starters, sir?"

FUCK.

The waiter has appeared at my side out of nowhere, holding two plates in his hands and beaming at us, completely unaware that he has just interrupted possibly the biggest question of my life so far.

"Yeah, um, thanks, sorry," I jabber, whisking my napkin off the table and onto my lap, and then reaching for my wine glass with such haste that I almost knock it over as the waiter lays my plate in front of me. "Thank you," I fluster, ignoring Jess's confused look in my direction.

"Yeah, OK," she is saying. "You can leave one at mine too, if you want. It makes sense. Thank you," she adds to the waiter as he presents her starter.

I take a large mouthful, keen to give myself a moment to reorganise my thoughts, but the conversation then moves on and away from the conversation about toothbrushes and staying over. I don't know if it's disappointment or relief I feel; I suspect it is a mixture of both.

"Have you had any more thoughts about Christmas yet?" I ask, once we have cleared our plates.

"About where to spend it? Didn't you say you were flying out on Boxing Day?" she asks.

"Well yeah, but you could still come to Mum's for Christmas Day," I suggest. "We're leaving the next morning but I can arrange a car to pick you up and take you wherever you want to go. Or you could change your mind and come away with us," I add hastily, and then wish I could backtrack at the look on her face.

"You know I wish I could," she mutters, her eyes downcast.

"So do it," I plead, reaching across the table to take her hand in mine. "Please."

"I can't," she replies, and there is a tone of finality in her voice. "I want to, so much. But I've paid the deposit and it's all booked."

I don't know why I keep bringing this up really. She isn't going to change her mind. And then a new thought strikes me and it's out of my mouth before I can stop it.

"Is Callie putting pressure on you to go skiing with her?" 

She looks up at me in surprise. "No. Why do you ask that?"

"Just wondered" I shrug. "I mean, she seemed fine the other night. Hardly heartbroken."

Come to think of it, she was in positively good spirits. It wouldn't surprise me in the slightest if she was milking this breakup just to keep Jess close.

"And I thought you two might be getting over your differences," Jess sighs.

"So did I," I mutter under my breath.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I've riled her now.

"I just mean, I thought we were cool, but if she still won't let you out of her sight for more than five minutes to come away with me, we're no further forward." 

I'm on the verge of sounding like a petulant child again. I need to rein this in before I ruin the whole evening.

Jess is staring at me, her eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "This has nothing to do with Callie," she replies. "She doesn't even know you asked me to come away with you."

Oh.

"Really?" I know I sound sceptical, but I'm genuinely surprised by this revelation.

"Yes, really!" she answers, and the undertone of impatience is becoming more pronounced. "You were so tetchy the other day about me not telling her anything about our relationship, and while I don't share your dislike towards her, I value your feelings above anyone else's in the world. So I listened to what you said, and I decided not to tell her about this luxury boat in the Caribbean, because I knew it would upset you. And she would probably tell me to go with you, when deep down she needs this holiday and needs her friends around her after what she's been through these past couple of months. So I would really appreciate it if you would just quit these sly digs under your breath because I'm having a really hard time balancing the two of you and trying to please you both."

By the time she's finished, I'm looking down at my lap, feeling small and ashamed at being admonished like this, and at having put Jess in this impossible position of choosing between her best friend and her boyfriend.

"I'm sorry," I apologise. "I knew you'd be feeling like that. I knew it. That's why I bit my tongue for so long about it. I shouldn't have made you feel like you had to choose between us. I don't want that. I've never wanted that. I love you, and I'm sorry for putting you in that position."

She has put her knife and fork down, and is resting her elbows on the table, her fingers pressed against her temples. "It's fine."

"It's not fine." I reach my hand across the table towards her, my heart thumping again but this time out of fear of what I have done, of what she might be thinking. "I'm trying so hard, Jess. I just want everything to be perfect."

"It is perfect," she assures me, meeting my eyes again. "I don't understand why you're putting so much pressure on yourself. Or why you're so eager to blame Callie for everything. You don't have to prove yourself to me."

I almost laugh. If only she knew.

"I know." I can't look at her, so I keep my eyes closed. "I'm so determined not to mess this up again, I keep messing it up again."

I hear her chuckle, and when I open my eyes she is smiling at me. Instantly I relax a little.

"Can we rewind a few minutes, please?" I beg. "Can we just chat about Christmas, and how much I'm looking forward to giving you your present, even if we can't be together on Christmas Day?"

"Of course we can be together on Christmas Day," she says gently, and my heart lifts again.

"Do you mean that? You'll spend Christmas with me at my Mum's?"

"Yes," she smiles. I want to punch the air. And Callie. My smile is so wide it's threatening to break off my face.

"You've just made me so happy. I was going to offer to come to Cambridge to be with you instead," I tell her.

"And sacrifice your time with your family?" she says with incredulity. "I would never make you do that! You've had a crazy year. I can see my family whenever I want. I would love to spend Christmas with you in Holmes Chapel."

I can't help myself from leaning across the table and kissing her on the lips, forgetting momentarily that we are in a public place, and then not caring anyway. She starts to protest, but seems to change her mind before the words have fully left her mouth.

"No one is looking," I promise her, after a quick glance over her shoulder. "And even if they were, they'd be too busy looking at you. You outshine me every time, Jess. You have no idea."

I may not have her over New Year, but I have her for Christmas. And I just know it's going to be the best one ever.

---***---

Hope everyone is keeping well and staying safe! Our schools started back on Monday, after being closed since just before Christmas. Time will tell whether our vaccine rollout is enough to keep infections under control, I suppose. I'm just looking forward to warmer weather, sunshine, flowers and barbecues! Lots of love to you all, and thank you for reading xxx