This might very well be the longest I have ever gone without talking to Esme, and to say it's weird is an understatement.

It must be coming up thirty hours now, and although that may seem like nothing, for me and Esme that is incredibly unusual, we are always in contact, always have been.

Especially since we moved in together, there hasn't been twenty-four hours that have gone by where I haven't spoken to her in some form.

She's always been the clingy type, she likes the constant affection otherwise she'll think you're mad at her.

Therefore, she made it a habit of messaging me consistently throughout the day. Which, albeit can become excessive and a little annoying, it's nice to have someone there.

Even times when she goes out to a party, or on a date, or god only knows whatever she's doing, I'll get a message from her, even if it's a simple 'love you E'.

And then when she finally does get home, even if it's four in the morning, she has a little routine of going to grab herself a glass of water, coming into my room to tell me about her date or party or whatever else she's doing.

She speaks quietly so she doesn't wake me, even though multiple times I've stirred and vaguely remember the conversation, or parts of it.

And then after maybe rambling on for five or ten minutes she'll head to her room and crash out on her bed.

Sometimes she'll fall asleep on mine if she's that exhausted.

It seems a little stupid to explain her day just for her to retell the stories the next morning when I'm conscious, but I don't complain.

Every so often she'll spiral her conversation, when she thinks I'm asleep, and she'll sound quite sad.

I think she feels lonely.

Lost. Like she's not sure what she's doing.

She always tells me how jealous of me she is. I have my future planned out for me, I know what I'm doing, or at least it appears that way with the ballet and having Michael.

I don't understand why she's jealous though, she is literally one of the most beautiful girls I have ever seen and she has boys fall at her feet. She is perfect and even though she occasionally lets the small crack of reality break through, my favorite thing about her is how she's a dreamer.

She doesn't like to worry about the small details in life that might hold you back.

But these past thirty hours have been the furthest thing from that.

It may be different just because I know she's annoyed with me, just as I am with her.

Yesterday, when I got home after the café date with Harry, she was nowhere to be seen.

That was until about midnight when she waltzed into the apartment, with whom I can only assume was another tinder date.

She chose to not even acknowledge me sitting on the sofa, rather she dragged him into the kitchen only to remerge a few minutes later with some drinks before going straight to her room. Not even giving me a second glance.

And then this morning I overheard her saying goodbye to this mystery man, and ever since she hasn't left her room.

Not that I know of at least.

All though she hasn't said a word to me, I have in no means attempted to speak to her either.

Why would I?

When she chooses to talk to me civilly, then we can sort this out. But until then, for once in my life going to stand my ground because the way she reacted was out of line.

It's currently five-thirty and Harry said he'd be here at six.

I plan on telling Esme that he's coming over her because the last thing I want tonight is for her to come into the kitchen to see Harry there, and have her go off on another outburst.

I've also happened to change my outfit three times, it's very inconvenient having to dress yourself for a date when your bestfriend is the one with the fashion expertise.

But it's kind of difficult to ask her for fashion advice when, you know, you aren't exactly on speaking terms.

I ended up settling on a baby blue maxi dress, that has a slit up one side of the legs. Nothing overly fancy, just a nice summary day dress that me and Esme got matching of from a thrift store, except hers is a pink color.

I roll myself off of my bed, checking my phone for any new messages only to see some emails from school and work that I need to sort through.

Wow, I'm so popular.

I guess I'm going to have to face Esme now or never.

In all honesty, I'm not sure how she's going to be with me, let alone me telling her Harry is coming round in ten minutes.

I won't be surprised if she ignores me all together.

She's stubborn like that.

Lightly I knock at her bedroom door, not getting a response after a few moments.

I know she's in there, so either she has her headphones in, or she's giving me the silent treatment.

Instead of knocking again, knowing I'd likely get the same reply, I slowly push down the handle, opening the door to reveal Esme laying on her bed. No headphones in.

Silent treatment it is.

"Look, I just wanted to let you know that Harry is gonna be here in ten minutes, we'll probably just be in the kitchen cooking or something. Just thought I'd let you know." I explain, leaning my body against the open door.

She doesn't look at me, and for a moment I wonder if she even heard me because she doesn't seem to register my response. That is until she actually speaks to me.

"Just thought you'd let me know?" She repeats me words in a question, sounding almost disgusted by my choice of words.

"Would've been nice of you to let me know when you first met him, or when you went on a date with him, or even before he came over to our table yesterday." She huffs in annoyance, my whole body tensing.

"I'm not doing this with you right now." I tell her, rolling my eyes and sighing. Why can it never be easy?

"Of course you're not. Well, you don't have to worry about me getting in your way tonight. I won't even leave my room." Esme responded, sarcastic sincerity in her voice. She seems to almost be mocking me and it's really frustrating.

I close the door, hard. Letting out another sigh as I do so, trying to not let her get to me.

Tonight will be a good night.

It will.

Suddenly, I'm drawn out of my thoughts by the sound of knocking coming from the front door.

I push myself off of Esme's bedroom door, opening my eyes as I do so, before smoothing my hands down the front of my dress and walking straight to the door.

When I open the door the breath is practically taken from my lungs, Harry standing there in a floral shirt - one that I can only imagine costs more than this apartment - and some flare white pants, holding a bag of groceries in one hand and a singular sunflower in the other.

"Hello sunflower." He smiles, stepping inside the doorway and handing me the sunflower.

"Hello baker boy, what are we cooking today?" I tease, immediately wishing I could take back the words I just said.

Baker boy.

Am I serious?

Sometimes I simply don't have a filter, and I wish I had a time machine so I could take back a thousand and one stupid remarks I've made.

Harry bursts out a laugh, walking his way into the kitchen while doing so.

Why do I get so tongue tied around him? I wouldn't mind crawling into a ball and dying right about now.

"Come on Evie." He encourages me to follow him into the kitchen. "Today, we're cooking shrimp tacos." He explains and at once I stop in my tracks causing him to give me a weird look, as he places the bag onto the kitchen counter.

"But- how did- what?" Is all I can manage to stutter out, my brows knitting together in confusion, Harry only smirking at my response.

"How did I know they were your favorite?" He asks with a smug expression.

"Uh-huh." I respond, still confused.

"A certain Bea may have told me after you left the cafe yesterday." He smiles down at the floor, suddenly appearing a lot more shy.

He found out what my favorite food was so we could have it for dinner.

"So, where do we start?" I finally find my voice, managing to string a sentence together.

I place my hands on my hips, waiting for Harry to respond as he begins to pull ingredients out from the cotton bag.

"We start, Evie, with you dicing the onions and tomatoes." Harry responds, rolling a tomato down his arm until it sits in the crease of his elbow where he straightens his arm causing the tomato to fly into the air just for him to catch it in his hand.

Show off.

"I should be able to do that. I think." I give him a tight lipped smile, taking the tomatoes and onions from him and pulling out a chopping board from the drawer. How hard can cutting a tomato and onion be, really?

"Good, I'll get started on the shrimp." He responds with another smile, causing my stomach to do backflips.

It's so weird to think this is my fourth date with Harry.

Well, unofficial date.

But still.

What does this actually mean for us? I don't do the relationship thing usually so I don't understand what happens when and the only person I can exactly talk to about it, won't bloody talk to me.

"Tell me about your family." Harry's voice pipes up as his hands grasp one of the chopping knives.

I really admire his tattoos, I like the little cross on his hand.

It's pretty. Maybe he's religious.

"Well, I've told you about my grandma being a ballerina. My mom went into dance as well for a while but decided it wasn't her true ambition. Then there's my dad, him and my mom where the typical high school sweethearts kind of vibe. He's always been supportive of me, he does whatever he can to make my mom happy. I love them both so much and I rarely get to see them now. Jenny from next door really took me and Esme under her wing when we first moved here." I begin to tell him, dicing the tomato into small cubes.

My dad wasn't always my favorite person. He was strict. But it was only to protect me, all he's ever wanted is the best for me and I can see that now. He's a lot more relaxed with my brother.

But my mom on the other hand has always been one of my favorite people, we've always been close.

"You have a brother don't you?" Harry questions further.

How did he know that?

"Yea, Jerome. He's just about to turn fourteen." I tell him, turning my head to give him a puzzled look.

"I saw the picture in your bedroom, I assumed he was your little brother." He explains sincerely.

At least he isn't stalking me.

I don't think I'd even be able to blame him if he was, if I was an A listed celebrity I'd probably want to know the person I'm dating.

Wait.

I know this is our fourth date or whatever Harry said, but does that mean we're dating.

I don't understand this.

"Okay, and what about your family?" I return the question. Despite having a bestfriend who is obsessed with Harry and the other boys, all I know is his mum is called Anne and his sister is called Gemma.

"My parents got divorced when I was little, seven or so. I told you about my older sister Gemma. And then my step dad Robin passed away a couple years ago." He explains, making my heart drop.

Losing a parent was always a fear I had when I was little, the thought of losing my mom especially used to give me nightmares.

"Oh, Harry. I'm so sorry. I didn't know." I turn to look at him, placing my hand on his arm.

He places the knife down onto the kitchen counter and instead steps over so he's standing in front of me.

His hands move to grasp both of my hips and I can feel my eyes become glossy.

"You look like you're about to cry, sunflower." His words come out as an almost whisper.

"It's the onions." I respond back in a similar volume.

"You mean the onions that you haven't started cutting yet?" He questions with a smirk, both of our heads turning to look at the two unpeeled onions resting on the marble surface next to the tortillas.

"They're just really strong." I giggle, causing him to erupt in a deep laugh.

Glad to know I can make someone laugh.

Slowly his hands trace up the side of my arms until he reaches my jaw, his thumbs moving in gentle circles on my skin.

"Believe me when I say I could easily get lost in these eyes." He breathes between us, the tension slowly rising. This kitchen suddenly feels a lot hotter than it did moments ago.

I get so lost inside your eyes

Would you believe it?

"I could say the same about yours. They're so pretty." I respond, barely audible.

I swallow down the lump in my throat as I watch his tongue swipe across his bottom lip, making it slightly glossy.

"Evie."

"Harry."

"Can I kiss you?" He sounds so unsure of his question.

"Yes." I breathe out a reply, simultaneously nodding my head, feeling like a deer in headlights.

His lips are only inches from mine, I can feel the heat radiating off of him yet I'm still too scared to lean an inch forward.

We stay there for what feels like minutes and hours which in reality is probably only a few more seconds, just looking at each other's eyes, our gaze occasionally wandering to the lips of the other person.

I can literally feel my heartbeat in my ears, the adrenaline heightening all of my senses.

The feeling of his lips brushing against mine is almost euphoric.

Slow and tender, his mouth gently moving with the speed of mine.

It doesn't take long for the kiss to build depth, speeding up and my hands move to the nap of his neck, my fingers scratching against his skin softly and tickling the ends of his hair.

I begin to walk him backwards so we make our way out of the kitchen, leading the way to my bedroom without taking my lips off of his.

"Wait, what about the shrimp tacos." I halt the walking, speaking with my lips still against his.

I hear a small laugh escape from the back of his throat as he shakes his head slightly.

"Evie, you do realize that just because the shrimp isn't cooked, doesn't mean it's alive. They're not going to swim away." He teases, biting his bottom lip which is now slightly swollen and a deeper flushed shade of red, similar to his cheeks.

"I know that stupid." I bite back a laugh, while light-heartedly slapping my hand on his arm.

"Ow." He responds sarcastically, a smile breaking through his harsh features as rubbing his arm aggressively to pretend he's actually hurt.

"The food will still be there for us to cook." He smiles, moving his hands back to brush my hair away from my neck.

He places a loving kiss against my jaw line.

"You on the other hand are always disappearing- Never seem to know when I'm gonna see you again- So I need to make sure that when I have you- I- don't- let- go-" His words are broken up with quick kisses he plants on my lips.

"Hmm, I guess you have a point." I say, feeling my cheeks flush a darker shade than they must already be.

"Oh, I definitely do sunflower."

I'm sure you've all been dying to know,  I passed my theory test! Don't know why it took four tries but I got there in the end lol.

More importantly, happy birthday Tommo baby, we love you! And Harry, care to explain what this TPWK music video is?