I just drop my hands into my lap and pray this night goes quickly, or I'm too drunk to even care about it within the next hour. Only date I'll be having tonight is with alcohol. ~•~ I'm really starting to think green eyes has a death wish, or he wants to lose an eye; because I'm tipsy and now we're playing darts. He brought me to a bar just out of the city, it's fairly quiet, I mean it is a Monday but the music is amazing, it's all of the songs I love and I'm irritated that I'm enjoying it so much. The bar seems fairly nostalgic, the walls are littered with old vinyl records, guitars and framed pictures of artists from the 60's to the 90's, and even though it has a grungy rock and roll feel and looks fairly beaten up from the outside - it's kinda cool inside. The bar staff are actually hilarious, they've spent most of the night belting out the songs or dancing with each other in between serving customers - who seem to be regulars and it's been fun to watch. Not that I'm having fun. I have forbidden fun from tonight. I refuse to have fun. Then he wins. "You're terrible at darts" he points out, staring at my dart lodged in the wall below the board, next to the other three randomly impaled around it. "Stand in front of it, I'm sure my aim will get a lot better" I throw back, giving him a sweet smile. Harry picks up his glass of water, taking a sip out of it while he's leant against the pool table; pulling it away to lick his lips as he cocks a brow at me. "I'm sensing some hostility" "Really? Wonder why" I squint at him; wanting to roll my eyes when he picks up one of his darts, aiming it at the board with his tongue pressed at the corner of his top lip on concentration before he throws it and hits the bulls eye effortlessly - for the fifth time. "I think you're just a sore loser" he says, gesturing at me to take my turn. "Yeah sucking at darts is the reason I'm in a sour mood tonight, has nothing to do with some persistent smirky idiot that can't take a hint" I deadpan, throwing my dart and glaring at it when it hits the wooden frame around the dart board and bounces off. Harry picks his drink up to take another sip and hide his smile over my absolutely shit aim and I pick up my own, knocking back the rest of the liquid in the glass and know I'll need several more of these to get through tonight. Harry moves from the pool table, to sit on the bar stool at the tall table we were sat at near the dart board that I'm standing next to; resting his elbows on the table and folding his hands under his chin. "Why is someone wanting to spend time with you something that pisses you off so much? A lot of people would take the persistence as a compliment" he says with a thoughtful expression, like he's trying to figure me out. I take a seat across from him, folding my arms on the table in front of myself and at least feel a bit more relaxed with my friend vodka settling that warmth through my body. "Harassment isn't a compliment" I say, giving him a knowing look. "You consider someone trying to be friends with you harassment?" he counters, tilting his head. I give him a look like he's full of shit, and find it hard to keep his eye contact to decide to just look at the patterns of the tattoos on his arms instead. "You aren't trying to be my friend. You're just trying to get what you want from me - and look up the definition of harassment, that's exactly what you turning up at my house is, so excuse me for not finding it flattering" "And what do I want from you exactly?" he questions ignoring the rest of what I said, looking intrigued by what my answer might be. I shrug my shoulders, giving him a bored expression "I dunno, you tell me. You're the one that won't leave me alone" "I don't want anything from you - that was your assumption, never once did I say that. I just want to get to know you" he says, moving his hand to mess through his hair before he scratches at his jaw and folds his hands on the table. I don't believe that for a second, he has to have some kind of ulterior motive - everyone does. "Well there's nothing to get to know, so you may as well cut your losses and move on to someone else" I say, hoping he will actually believe me and just drop whatever weird interest he has in me. Harry purses his lip, toying with his rings on his fingers and searches his eyes over my features "I think there's plenty to know. I think you just like pretending there isn't so you don't have to get close to people - I'm curious as to why that is" "So we're psycho-analyzing me now?" I ask, giving him an accusing look. I get enough of that from my psychologist, I don't need it from him too. "Just being observant" he states, watching me with that inquisitive stare again. "You're interesting. I wanna learn how you see things - how your mind works" I think I'm being made more uncomfortable about the fact his observation was a bit too close to home for me, and I'm not someone that likes to open up to people - and I certainly don't like them getting to know me. If you open yourself up, you're vulnerable. You give people to power to hurt you and that's all people seem to be good at. "Well good luck with that" I say with a flat look, trying to emphasise how unlikely that ever happening is. "Thanks, I'm probably gonna need it" he smirks, looking more determined than anything. "So, I have something else I need to ask you" he states, leaning forward on the table looking more mischievous. "What?" I ask, never liking that look on his face - it only means trouble, or he's about to say something that will make me want to smack him. "Seeing as we're on a date, which one of us is going to break it to Gizmo that you're cheating on him?" he looks way too amused at his own question and as much as I hate it, I had the urge to laugh but I quickly stuffed that back down. But the vodka in my system as lightened me up enough to play along, even if I will refuse the fact that this a date until the day I die. I don't do dates. I don't do dating in general, I'm far better off on my own. "You can tell him, maybe then he will stop thinking the sun shines out your ass" I say, watching as his face breaks out into a grin. His eyes genuinely light up over the small amount of banter he's managed to drag out of me that hasn't been completely laced with hostility like the most of the night. I'm normally never this blatantly rude to a person, but christ he just won't quit no matter how off putting I try to be. I feel like that only encourages him, but I don't want to dare risk being polite - which I'm thinking would bore him and whatever game he's up to, in case it completely backfires and only makes it worse. "Guess I'll be the bearer of bad news then" he agrees, and then looks over his shoulder towards the pool table and darts his eyes back to me like he has an idea. "Hey I'll make you a deal. Play a game of pool with me - if I win, you have to give this night a chance and have some fun. If I lose, I'll leave you alone after tonight" he offers. I watch him suspiciously, wondering what angle he's trying to play at now. "If I win, there'll be no more turning up at my house, no more trying to get to know me and you'll leave me alone - for good?" I check, honestly grasping at any opportunity I can get to put an end to this charade of his. Even if he's bullshitting me, I'll take the chance. "Well unless you're at Frankie's, I can't avoid you there - but if you want I'll even pretend like I don't see you" he says, taking an obvious jab at my performance of pretending I was blind the first night we met. "You promise?" I ask, raising my brows. Harry lifts his hand, painting a 'X' over his heart with his pointer finger and gives me an exaggerated sincere expression "Cross my heart. You win, and you'll get rid of me" I extend my hand over the table, and Harry grasps it without missing a beat with his lips pulling into any eager smile. "Deal" I say, with a firm shake of his hand and he agrees with a nod, echoing what I said with an enthusiastic 'Deal'. Well, it's game on loser. Because I may suck at darts - but I'm fucking awesome at pool. You've just played yourself smirky.