twenty-two ◌ bow ties and promposals

✗

The knots in my stomach were twisting, pulling, grappling within the pits of my body, and the nerves had become physically painful. The yellow radiance of the bathroom's lighting fixtures casted a sickly glow upon my sweating face, and I grimaced at the the daunting reflection. Turning on both knobs, a blend of both water temperatures percolated from the faucet and I drenched my face.

This was utterly insane and I was an idiotic dingbat for delving into an errand that could possibly get us arrested, or killed. It was one thing to break into an empty bank once, and now I was about to do it again— with a celebration taking place on the other side of the walls no less. There was no need to constantly remind me of why I was risking my entire life, but the longer I stood in this lavish bathroom, fixing my hair and deciding what to do with my eye makeup, I couldn't help the scene of memory obliteration happening in my mind.

"You better be decent, I'm coming in here."

That was the only warning before the bathroom door opened and Harry sauntered in. Not even considerate enough to wait for a response, the curly-headed boy stopped his movements before the mirror to swipe a few fingers through his hair.

"What's the point of announcing yourself, if you're just going to waltz right in without regard of what could've been behind the door?" I criticized, eyeing Harry with displeasure.

"Baby girl, if you were really concerned about me catching glimpse of your naked body, you would've locked the door," Harry retorted, a smug look painted across his face. I scoffed at him, continuing dry my face off with a towel.

Digging my hands into my small pouch of makeup, I pulled out a spooly to fix my unruly brows. I leaned closer to the mirror, brushing out the hair till they were tame enough for me to fill in. As I did this, I noticed Harry attempting to fasten his black bowtie. It was an elegant touch to his midnight blue server's suit. The black suspenders clipped to his waist belt, hung at his sides, and the white button up shirt sleekly hugged his torso. For an asshat who normally kept it casual in jeans and a simple t-shirt, Harry looked ridiculously divine— that was one outfit I hoped to never spill anything on.

"Do you need help?" I asked, pausing my movements to gaze at Harry through the mirror. After watching him struggle to knot his bowtie for several minutes, I decided to step in.

"No, I can do this on my own," Harry seemed annoyed with my polite gesture, and continued to lace the fabric between his fingers.

I shrugged my shoulders in defeat, and I leaned towards the mirror again. With a steady hand, I carefully flicked the dark brown gel against the skin of where my brows were sparse. As I did this however, the frustrated grunts of Harry filled my ears. Finding his battle with formal wear to be thwarting to my diligence, I rested the make up off to the side. I grabbed both of Harry's hands and tugged them away from the fabric.

"What are you doing?" Harry questioned, staring at me with utter confusion.

Pushing him against the countertop, Harry sat on the granite's edge as I stepped in between his open legs.

"Witnessing you trying to tie this thing, was like watching Hannah Montana and Miley Stewart run back and forth between her dinner with the mayor, and date with Travis," I expressed, my hands holding both ends of the bowtie. "It was a hot mess."

"So you're saying I'm hot," Harry wiggled his brows mischievously. I cringed and made a barfing noise.

"Less hot, and more of the mess part," I retorted without missing a beat. With nimble fingers, I laced the material in my hands with ease. I bit my bottom lip in sheer focus, eloquently folding one side over the other.

"Where did you learn how to tie these things?" Harry questioned. Though his voice was low, I could hear him perfectly due to our close proximity.

"My dad," I answered simply, before catching myself in a tiny fib. I paused for a quick moment and looked at Harry who was already staring at me intently. "It was actually Hex who did, but my dad had asked him to."

I returned my focus back to the bowtie, because if I were being honest with myself, I was beginning to feel slightly nervous around Harry. I didn't understand why of course, because I've been this close to him before. However, what made it different from all the other times, was in this moment, I didn't have any urge to clock him in the nose.

"That makes sense," he commented. "Your dad wanted you to be able to defend yourself, and look classy at the same time."

I giggled. A legit one at that, something Harry had failed to do before. "Yea, something like that. My dad is a traditional Filipino man, but is more forward thinking than a lot of men in their forties. Besides the fighting and bow tie thing, he made sure I know how to do other things too. I can drive a stick shift— I'm absolutely terrible, mind you, but if I need to, I can."

"You're lucky in that sense. I mean, having a dad to teach you things so you're not a complete catastrophe in society," Harry optimistically addressed with a smirk.

"Your dad never taught you things?" I cocked a freshly filled in brow, quickly glancing at Harry.

"He never got a chance to do so," he revealed, vagueness to his statement.

As much as I wanted to press on, I was still quite close to Harry. I was reminded of our proximity when I felt his warm breath fan against my forehead. I sensed my cheeks flush from his eyes probing into me, and I quickened my movements to finish the task at hand. After pleating the fabric one last time, the banal piece of textile was now a chic bowtie.

"All done," I grinned, adjusting the collar of Harry's shirt before brushing my hands against his muscular chest to flatten the material.

Taking my hands in his, Harry held onto them with a supple touch. I found myself sucking in a breath as one of his hands let go to reach for my face. He cupped my cheek, softly brushing his thumb against my jawline, and just gazed at me with an expression I couldn't decrypt. His deep, mossy green eyes latched onto mine like a high powered magnet and I couldn't look away. The gears sanctioned in his head were rotating, his mind falling into deep thought.

Harry leaned in closer, his plump, slightly chapped lips ghosting over mine. One tiny move and our lips would touch. I felt his warm breath tickling the skin of my chin as I closed my eyes, and our noses tenderly brushed against each other. I could feel Harry move again, and while I expected a kiss, it never came. Instead, a deep voice thankfully interrupted what could've been a great mistake.

"It's just about time to go, Harry!"

Niall's voice vibrated against my ears. Immediately, I paced backwards with my heart thumping chaotically against my ribcage. My eyes were wide and my lips were left tingling. Harry spun around to face the mirror, and with a gratifying smile, he tugged onto the bowtie. Pleased with my work, he took the straps of his suspenders and tugged them into its rightful place with a snap.

"Nice job Tash," Harry looked at me through the mirror and sent me a flirty wink.

"You look good, mate," Niall walked into the bathroom, followed by Liam. He complimented Harry with an approved smile and a thumbs up. Niall's blonde hair was styled nicely while a pair of black glasses adorned his face.

Harry wasn't the only one who cleaned up well. Niall and Liam both were dressed to the nines. The two snazzy looking men were dressed in the same midnight blue slacks with a black bowtie, and a pair of suspenders. I took one of the matching coats hanging on the towel rod and opened it up.

"Niall," I grinned up at him. He responded by strolling over and allowing my help in putting on his blazer. One by one, he slipped an arm through, completing the look.

"How do I look?" Niall posed ridiculously, and I couldn't help the giggles from escaping my mouth. His presence alone lifted my spirits and modified the confusion I held in my chest after Harry's unexpected, odd behavior.

"Oh my God, please stop," Liam teased, shooting him a playful grimace.

"Handsome," I replied without hindrance. "You better look like that on my prom night because I refuse to let you tag along if you wear sweatpants and sneakers."

"Speaking of prom," Niall had this incredulous grin plastered across his face and my expression of bliss dropped like Skrillex dropping the bass.

"Oh Lord," I nervously spoke to myself.

"Come on," Niall held out his hand, and with slight hesitation, I took it.

Niall led me from the confines of the bathroom, back into the main space where it was drenched in cologne. I let out a cough from the strong scent as Niall continued to tug me further into the room. I turned over my shoulder to look at Liam, who trailed behind. He only smirked, and it occurred to me then that he knew of the imminent tomfoolery.

"Take a seat," Niall gestured for one of the beds where my dress was nicely laid out. He strolled to the double doors that lead out to the balcony, and unexpectedly, there was a guitar waiting to be played.

"What the..." my words faded with wonder as I watched Niall grab the instrument by its neck and slung the strap around his body. "Where did the guitar come from?"

"I picked it up this morning so I could do this," Niall smirked. Then, without another moment to pass, he strummed a chord and a melodic sound echoed throughout the space."Tasha Aquino, welcome to your promposal."

Niall beamed at me and then head nodded at Liam, who pressed a button on the remote control. The television screen next to him lit up, and began to play a quirky slideshow just as Niall plucked away on the guitar.

"Clock strikes upon the hour, and the sun begins to fade. Still enough time to figure out, how to chase my blues away..."

I let out a gasp, brimming with surprise and glee. Niall's voice was smooth like softened butter, but the song choice was so unexpected. While I thought the song choice would be something sweet and romantic to serenade me with, Niall instead chose a classic tune. Then again, after our awkward history, did I really think he'd play me a love song penned by Ed Sheeran?

"I've done alright up to now, it's the light of day that shows me how. And when the night fails, loneliness calls..."

As Niall continued to sing his rendition of the Whitney Houston hit, bopping along to the song, I glanced over at the television screen. The slide show was embarrassing as fuck, and I almost resented Niall for putting together a presentation using only cringey photographs and videos. Filled with derp faces, double chins, mouth stuff with food, and footage of me getting my ass kicked during several training sessions, the promposal exhibition was nothing short of humiliating.

But I loved every moment of it.

"Oh, I wanna dance with somebody, I wanna feel the heat with somebody. Yeah, I wanna dance with somebody, with somebody who loves me..."

I couldn't stop laughing, and my stomach was cramping due to the intense giggles that slewed out of my mouth. Liam also couldn't contain his laughter, as he often pointed to the screen in order to scrutinize clips of Niall and I dancing idiotically at my 18th birthday. When I flickered my eyes over to where Harry was standing, his shoulder pressed up against the wall, he no longer stood there to observe the scene. Where he went, I had no clue, but knowing of his douchebag tendencies, I concurred that Harry dismissed himself for being too cool.

"Natasha Rae Andrada Aquino, will you make me the happiest of lads and be my prom date?" Niall was on one knee, with both his hands brandished out and a goofy smile etched on his pale face. The guitar he had rested on the carpet next to him, and without hesitation, I happily grinned at the boy.

"Yes, absolutely! I would be honored to have you as my date, Niall James Horan," I accepted his request in the most theatrical fashion. I stood up, opened my arms, and let Niall indulge me with a tight hug.

While I found it both an enthralling feat and a nuisance to have a puppy crush on Niall, I was also riveted by the fact that he was also someone I considered my best friend. It never occurred to me before, as Niall was always just Niall. But after knowing him for four years, and having him with me now, only proved that the boy with the spellbinding blue eyes and upbeat personality, was indeed my best friend.

Soon after the impressive promposal, the boys left to pose as gala servers. Harry, who disappeared sometime during Niall's serenade, was just in the bathroom putting on the deep blue coat. I saw him glance back at me as he walked out the door, and I felt my skin tremble in remembrance of our most intimate moment to date.

Around 40 minutes later, I stood before Pinnacle Crédit in the most exquisite dress my body has ever touched since my Debut. Fittingly enough, it was a Paris blue gown, as advertised by the old woman who owned the shop. The bodice was made of taffeta fabric with a plunging V-neckline, the perfect frame to showcase my mother's necklace. Cinched with an empire waistband, the skirt was embellished with floral detailing, and flowed beautifully around my legs. It fell right above the ground— short enough for me to walk in, but long enough to hide the fact that I was wearing a pair of slip-on Vans.

(translation: Filipino coming-of-age party celebrated at 18, similar to a Quinceanera)

"Bonsoir mademoiselle," the man at the glass doors smiled as I approached.

For fear of blubbering out something out in French, only to accidentally insult someone, I kept my mouth shut. Instead, I politely grinned back at the man and handed him the invitation. He ran the elegant card stock beneath a hand-held device, a red ray of light swiping across the invitation. When the piece of tech beeped, and a green light blinked from the screen, I let out the heavy breath I didn't know I was holding in.

The interior of the bank looked like something out of Olympus. If the Greek gods and goddesses needed a new space to kick it in, this would definitely be the place. Gargantuan marble pillars lined either side of the rectangular lobby while intricately designed gold fixtures decorated each tiny detail. The outside architecture of Pinnacle Crédit was gorgeous, but the interior was without a doubt, jaw dropping.

"Holy shit Tasha."

Suddenly filling my left ear, the shock-laced voice vibrated against my eardrum as I smiled at other passing guests. The DJ seamlessly blended a Selena Quintanilla song with a familiar tune, the simple guitar plucking reverberating against the walls like silk.

"What's wrong?" I asked, facing the table of assorted finger foods and helping myself to a delectable looking pink macaron.

"Not you that's for sure," Liam's voice dripped with mischief.

"Excuse you?" I turned over my shoulder, darting my eyes through out the expanse of the room in search for the impish boy.

There I was again tonight, forcing laughter, faking smiles. Same old tired lonely place.

Guests in fancy dresses and tuxedos glided across the marbled tile with dignified opulence. As they mingled among each other, or entertained themselves with the quirky photo booth in the corner, they exuded such snoot, I felt severely uncomfortable. My father has thrown fancy parties like these before to celebrate his clientele, but I always had Kat with me. Despite the expensive gowns that clung to our bodies, and the heels that made our feet scream, those soirees were nothing of this caliber.

"You look ravishing Tasha," Liam complimented, and for a moment I thought he was teasing me. It wasn't until I felt a simple tap on my shoulder and turned to meet his hazel eyes, lush with pureness. With a tight lipped smile, he brandished a circular tray of glass flutes before me. "Champagne for the lovely lady?"

"Thank you Liam," I grinned, taking one of the slender glasses filled with bubbly.

"By the way, your mark is three yards west in the Burberry tie," Liam informed and subtly head nodded in the direction of Pinnacle Crédit's new president.

I shifted my focus over to to an extremely handsome man. His chiseled bone structure could cut a bitch, and his icy blue eyes pierced straight into my soul and my panties disintegrated. He was tall with broad shoulders, black hair slicked back, and stubble peppered along his jaw.

Your eyes whispered, have we met? Across the room your silhouette, starts to make its way to me.

"Lorenzo Bianchi is so gorgeous, it's actually illegal," I preached, completely awe-struck by the man I was endorsed to steal from. The Taylor Swift song filtering from the speakers fit perfectly with the spectacle surrounding me.

Among the elegantly dressed patrons that surrounded the bank's new president, was another server in a dark blue suit. He stood tall with his chestnut curls groomed nicely together, as oppose to the unruly mop it normally is. Harry held a tray of mini pastries in the palm of his hand and presented the bite sized snacks before the people standing in front of him.

"Chers invitès, plus-je vous proposer des choux à la crème?" The French language delicately slipped from Harry's tongue, pleasantly titillating my left ear.

(translation: May I offer you guests some choux à la crème )

The women ignored him, as did Lorenzo, before Harry turned around with an irritated scowl on his face. From across the room, Harry's eyes locked onto mine and I suddenly held my breath. One look from his deep, juniper irises that gleamed beneath the artificial light was all it took to remind me of our almost-kiss.

The lingering question kept me up. 2AM, who do you love? I wonder till I'm wide awake.

"I don't believe I've met you before."

Lorenzo's voice was husky, painted with a beautiful French accent, and my knobby knees began to wobble. He easily towered above me, a playful smirk on his face as he held out his hand.

"Good evening Monsieur Bianchi," I rested my hand in his and nodded my head into a curtsey.

"And who might you be?" He asked. His English was impeccable— if it weren't for his heavy accent, I would've thought English to be his native tongue.

"I'm Lilian Sanchez," I humbly introduced myself, mentally thanking Liam for giving me an identity more normal than the one prior. "I am honored to be here celebrating your new enterprise."

"The honor is all mine," Lorenzo kissed my hand softly and when his eyes lifted, they weren't gazing into mine, rather past them. Something else caught his attention behind me, and before I could turn over my shoulder to look, my question was answered.

"I don't think Tasha flirting with Lorenzo for his key card is going to work," Niall's voice filled my coms with a chuckle. "He's staring right at you Liam."

"Please, excuse me. Enjoy the celebration Mademoiselle Sanchez," Lorenzo nodded his head, and with that, he sauntered away.

Hey, it was enchanting to meet you, all I know is I was enchanted to meet you.

"Liam, he's walking straight for you," Niall informed with an amused inflection. "Hope your mouth can handle all that."

"It's a good think I don't have a gag reflex," Liam mused. "Hope you don't mind Tasha, but Mr. Bianchi is a fine piece of ass."

"No, please Liam. By all means, show daddy a good time," I giggled, watching Lorenzo make a b-line straight for Liam, who stood there with a mischievous half-smirk.

"Also, turn off your coms when you do," Harry advised with disgust. "I don't wanna hear all that."

I was more than happy with this audible. Honestly, my flirtation skills were comparable to a blender on a good day, so having to seduce the very beautiful Lorenzo Bianchi in order to swipe his keycard, would've been quite the awkward situation. With the extra time on my hands, I decided to lay low. I kept near the table of goodies, trying one of everything.

"They're about to start the presentation," Niall announced and I looked over to the makeshift stage at the end of the lobby.

Gold and silver mylar balloons decorated the stage in a large arch, while a massive projection screen stood on the center. A woman was off to the side, with her concentration focused on a laptop. Periodically she would gaze at the screen on the stage while troubleshooting from her end.

"When the presentation starts, we'll only have twenty minutes to get into the vault, destroy the cash and get out of here," Niall reiterated. He was the only one I had yet to see intermixing with the guests, but the moment I thought about it, was the same second I caught glimpse of his blonde hair peeping through the crowd of people.

"Do you think Liam was able to grab the key card?" Harry asked. "I mean, how magical are his blow jobs?"

"Wanna find out Kitson?" Liam's voice, drenched with confidence, abruptly filled my ears again.

"Don't think your mouth's big enough for me," Harry's raunchy statement made my face convolute with antipathy.

"Can you two flirt after we finish this mission? We gotta get the show on the road," Niall pressed.

"Liam were you able to knick the keycard?" I asked.

"Oh, with ease," Liam gloated. "I'm telling you, this mouth is exceptionally bewitching."

I couldn't help but to stifle a giggle— this damn hoe.

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Big shoutout to Elleira_Siren for helping me with the French-English translation for this chapter! <3

Also, you have no idea how proud I am of that manip above. It took a several hours to make, not including the time it took to replace the model's head with Harry's. I really wanted to create a photo of Harry & Tasha in their gala ensemble, so I spent some time making one :)

I'm hoping you all liked this chapter. This, and the upcoming chapters are some of my favorite in the book. I wrote them months ago, and it feels so great to finally be able to publish them.

Thank you all so much for the support! We're almost at 10K reads, so be sure to share this story with friends.