" 𝕴s it just me or is this genuinely the most disgusting casserole you've ever tasted in your life?".

Harry coughs, choking on a fit of unexpected laughter as the blonde stares at him horrified, her fork held midair and mouth twisted into a grimace.

He takes a huge sip of his water, clearing his throat.

"Guilty", he holds his palms up earning a groan.

"So not only was I late but I also picked the worst restaurant ever. Could I be any more stupid?".

"You're not stupid", he smiles softly.

She rolls her eyes, scoffing at his very very clear attempt at trying to come off as cute.

Isn't he aware that he's pretty good at it without even trying?

It is weird for her to sit here talking to him this way, as if they're still something to each other, as if she isn't absolutely dreading the fact that one misstep could completely ruin this evening.

And there have already been two of them, yet Harry's still here.

Maybe she should be giving him more credit.

"Do you want to clear our bill and then go get McDonald's or would it be a bit too dominating for you?", she mumbles self-consciously looking down at the table.

A sharp ping of hurt and anxiety stings through him at her words, his little speech from that night immediately coming back to him.

I hate how dominating you are . . . .

He didn't mean it, not really. Not exactly in the sense she clearly took it because Darlene is never one to get self conscious so easily, or even project it so transparently for that matter.

He hates that he's the reason for that little quaver of doubt in her voice, his Darlene was never doubtful.

Not in this way.

But then again, she's not his anymore.

"I . . . .", he clears his throat, "That sounds perfect".

She coughs, nodding as she waves the waiter over and asks him to bring the bill.

The next few minutes pass by in a blur, with Harry graciously pulling out his card glaring at Darlene when she stubbornly hands the waiter hers victoriously mouthing 'you get the next one' which didn't do much to soften his glare but he wasn't really mad, not at Darlene, never at Darlene.

And then they exited the restaurant together silently walking through the parking lot when . . . .

"Shit", she abruptly stops.

Harry turns his head to glance back at her whilst she stays frozen in place, eyes wandering all over the half empty parking lot.

"My car. My car's gone for repair and I took a cab here but I didn't know we'd have to leave this early so I just planned on booking one later and—".

"Come with me".

Harry is delighted, to say the least. Having Darlene ride in the same car as him? Him dropping her off at her apartment after their 'non-date'?

Is this the universe's way of finally setting things right?

"You—I—", she begins to shake her head but then he takes a step forward shutting her up.

"It makes sense. I have no problem dropping you off after", he shrugs, trying to come off as nonchalant as possible but inside, he's screaming, jumping with joy and cartwheeling right over.

She seems to consider it, chewing on her bottom lip with squinted eyes as she weighs the pros and cons.

But his expectant face, his mouth curled up in the way that suggests he's trying not to break out into a smile, his aquamarine eyes staring right into her soul through the dark parking lot, him just him standing there in front of her with that stupid tempting mocking curl of his delicately dangling over his forehead is irresistible in every way possible.

How could she ever say no to him when he looks at her like that?

"Okay", she simply says and starts walking in the direction he'd been previously.

"It's the way, darlin'".

Darlene freezes for the second time tonight.

The d word was not supposed to be spoken tonight — it is banned, forbidden, prohibited and to even so much as utter it under your breath would invite nothing less than a death sentence.

And Harry knew that, but he's human and humans sometimes slip up, at the absolute wrong times.

Nevertheless, she quietly turns on her heel walking up to him gesturing for him to lead the way snapping him from the trance he'd been put under when he had decided to be smart and open his mouth.

It's not fun being such a mess, you know but he's trying.

— && —

They drove in silence, mostly until Harry pulled up outside the closest McDonald's restaurant and unbuckled his seat belt and Darlene tutted shaking her head.

"What? I'm paying this time, remember?".

"This is my mess and I don't take no for an answer".

"Darlene—".

"You say no and I don't sign those papers you've got in your glove box", she'd raised a brow apparently striking the right chord because he immediately went silent, eyeing her with what seemed a bit too much like an irritated little kitten furiously meowing at its owner.

She'd only smirked and unbuckled her seat belt to leave when he'd quietly muttered his order.

Another win for Darlene — and twenty minutes later they were happily sipping on their respective milkshakes, the burgers and fries having satisfied both of their hunger ever so religiously that they have now fallen into a comfortable rhythm of conversation.

"Wait, this isn't like a Taylor-Kanye situation here, is it? You're not like totally bashing me in your song, right? Because I'm choosing to trust you here".

Harry coughs, pulling the straw out of his mouth and turning to her, very very horrified.

She only looks on in confusion.

"Have a bit more faith in me".

Darlene shrugs, "I'm right to ask, y'know".

He rakes a hand through his hair, settling against his seat.

"I promise I'm not being disgusting in that song. It's . . . . I think you'd like it. At least I hope so. It's . . . . sort of flattering", he admits hesitantly.

Her eyes shine with a mischievous glint he has missed so much he could drop down to his knees right now and ask her to never leave again.

It all feels so simple, the way they're conversing now.

It's like they've fallen right back into step from where they left off before that one phone call with her after which she showed up in LA and everything changed.

He feels like his old self again, the one that didn't try to drown in work just so he didn't have to feel a little too much.

And my god does it feel like home.

"Are you like, thanking me for making you the person that you are today? For your newfound and very very developed sense of humour? And of course, the new every day wardrobe I so carefully curated for you".

Her grin is infectious and he'd be following suit if it wasn't for the fact that there's a little too much of truth in her words.

It scares him, for the future and for her reaction when she finally listens to the album.

"I'm not giving any spoilers".

"Rude", she rolls her eyes and takes a very loud sip of the remainder of her milkshake before discarding it in the paper bag resting over the console.

She wipes her hands with a tissue and exhales.

"Alright. I'm ready. Let me see the contract".

Harry nervously plucks the papers out from his glove box — being careful of her handbag lodged in there with other things — and hands it to her along with a pen.

She sits back and reads.

Flitting her eyes off every paragraph, Harry watches her read with a deep suited concentration — brows knitted and bottom lip pulled between her teeth as she taps the pen against her cheek.

She turns the pages, not once sparing him a glance, and focuses her entire attention on the words written there to make sure what she's agreeing on.

Five minutes later — she's a very quick reader, he can never not be surprised by her reading speed — she sits up and takes the cap off the pen, wordlessly sprawling her signature at the bottom of the last page.

She looks up and quietly hands the papers to him.

Harry glances down at the smooth 'D. T. Winslet' written just above the line alloted for the signature.

It's done. It's over. And he and Darlene are still on good terms.

She clears her throat, putting her seat belt back on.

"You should probably take me home now. It's getting late".

He nods, stuffing the papers back into the glove compartment and ignites the engine, driving off towards her street.

A half hour of more silence and a few awkward coughs later, he pulls up right outside her apartment building.

Without a word, Darlene twists to unbuckle her seat belt.

"Hey".

She stops, pulling the strap out and glances back at him.

"Thank you, really. I mean it".

Sighing, she takes her handbag out and goes to open the door, halting midway with her hand on the handle.

He watches her debate her next words in her head, cautiously gazing down at the car door handle with furrowed brows.

The space between her brows slowly softens and she shakes her head slightly, shifting to face him.

"D'you wanna come up?".

That. Those reluctant blue eyes, and parted ruby lips with that slight tinge of obvious hesitation and the way she's half twisted on the seat to look at him, really look at him — is all he needs for an invitation.

***
darlene is so 🤭🤭🤭