#In my defence he’s kind of nice in the first season? After being a sassy lil

[gettiregretti]

[imagine-that-one-thing]

Manhattan | Chapter Two.

Authors Note: Hey, Hey everyone, I hope everyone has had a great day and evening. This is the second chapter to Manhattan, my Frat Boy AU. I am not sure whether this will be a fanfic or a mini-series, or what it becomes. It depends on the reviews I get on it from you guys.

I hope you enjoy this chapter, is a bit different from the first Chapter, but it is building on characters, I guess. I don’t know. Anyway, enjoy! Xx

Chapter one found, HERE.

Harry Masterlist found HERE To Enter to win tickets for Harry Styles IN Nashville TN, HERE

It has been several days since the ludicrous frat party I attended. My dress still emanates a damn brewery, and I swear I can’t cleanse the stench of beer off my skin, but everyone else appeared to have loved it— it’s all I have heard about the last few days.

Apparently, it was such a great gathering that there’s going to be another… one that I will NOT be attending.

I don’t care if they do some keg standing drinking game or if there’s some kind of absurdly amazing beer pong match where that dickhead gets his ass beat— I am not going. I have no desire to.

I haven’t seen or heard about Harry either.

He seems to be mysterious, I am starting to wonder if he even attends the same University or if I managed to lure a creepy man to my dorm room while falling for his British charm.

Maybe he isn’t even British and it’s all an act. Who knows?

Besides the tailgate party and the after game entertainment that has been circling around conversations, the month of September is the beginning of football season—a season of deranged fanatic students’ screaming and rumbling at a football stadium, rooting for our blue and white team, while trying not to get drunk in the stands.

Today, September sixteenth; Well, today isn’t just the day for kick starting the glorious season of men in pads, pounding each other for a football, but it kicks starts against a rivalry that has been brewing for years.

We start the season against the Cornell Big Reds.

Despite my piling stacks of work and notes that need revising, I can’t help but fall for the first day, kick off, shenanigans of college football. I guess, I felt it was compulsory to act within the typical expectations of a college student and tag along with tailgating before the game.

Little did I know that this decision would be the start of something unknown.

At first glance, I disregard him, having to carry a double take before realising that it’s him, Harry.

I tilt my head to the side, my eyes blazing into him as they discern that he’s bearing red. Although he seems rather dainty in crimson, the blood humming through my veins seems to disagree with his judgment of colours, both for a good and bad reason.

I glance around promptly, noticing I am the only one not gathered in the crowd up ahead with their chants and their eager anticipation. I sigh, leaning against my roommate’s car, my eyes fluttering back towards him.

He makes his way over to me, my teeth sinking into my bottom lip as a nervous reaction.

“Hi, I’m surprised to see you here.” He flashes me a Cheshire grin, his eyes appearing to glisten a radiant emerald that I can admire more in the dusk sunset then I could in the moonlight the other night.

“Hello,” I nod, “I’m just as equally as surprised,” I comment, part of me rather enthused with the fact he’s bearing a rival colour that nobody dares to sport on such a day like today. “Nice colour, surprised your blood isn’t spread all over it— wait, don’t tell me,” I gasp, leading with a small pause. “You’re one of them.” I add, considerably amused by the fact that he may be unknown territory that is ’forbidden’.

He gives me a strange expression, resembling a little bit perplexed. “One of them?” He raises a brow, only causing me to laugh at his bewildered eyes and his lip gradually curving into a confused shape.

“Has nobody told you?”

“Told me what?” … “Am I missing the memo?” He questions, his hand scratching the back of his neck, something I assume to be a bit of an apprehensive gesture.

“Unless you have a death wish or actually attend Cornell University, you might want to take that off.” I subtly point to his red long sleeve that is hugging his body pleasantly—at least my eyes are comfortable with the way it embraces him.

He glances down at his shirt before he glimpses back towards me, “What if I do go there?” He challenges with a straight face, somewhat intriguing me.

“Well..” I trail off with a shrug, unsure whether he’s kidding or if he generally attends the opposing university.

He chuckles melodiously, a quality that is as pleasing as a vinyl playing on a record player on a warm summer night. “I wasn’t planning on coming here. But, I do not go to the Coral University.” He responds, causing a stifled giggle to escape my lips.

Oh, how the innocence of a British boy seems to make me chuckle.

“Cornell,” I correct him with a courteous smile, not wanting to be too sassy with my correction. “So, where do you go?” I curiously inquire, still unsure of just where this ambiguous British boy resides.

He gives me a shrug, his lips contorting into a cheeky smirk, “somewhere around here.” He uses my own words that I used against him the other night.

Smart arse.

I raise a brow, glimpsing up at him, “mysterious, I see.”

He smirks, “Mhm, I’ll swap my information, for your name.”

“No,” I shake my head, his eyebrows knitting together as he stares into my eyes, his head cocking to the side casually.

“No? Well, that ain’t a pretty name.”

“Why would I tell you my name? It destroys the mystery, doesn’t it?” I challenge, referencing the same statement he used the other night.

“Perhaps.” He nods, “I have no witty response just yet, so we can come back to this later.” He continues, earning himself yet another grin from myself.

“There will be a later?” I cheekily challenge, observing as he chews his lip, his eyes closing down on me.

He doesn’t react immediately, he takes a moment to take a breath, his mind evidently spinning like tires stuck in the mud striving to hit an opening. “Well, with that sass, no.” He shakes his head,

“Well, with that shirt, you have no hope.” I shrug, gesturing towards his crimson long sleeve, his eyes rolling at me in a playful manner, the unexpected outbreak of cheers coming from the gathered circle up ahead taking his attention.

He glances over towards the crowd, frowning for a moment. “I did not know,” He sighs, “would it satisfy you if I took it off?” He offers and I shake my head. “Good because it is bloody cold out here.” He continues, his eyes again flickering towards the crowd of boisterous football goers, enthusiastic to march their way into the stadium.

He glances back over at me, his eyes radiating a stunning light shade, “Do you want to go in?” He questions,

“My ticket is long lost in that crowd.” I point over towards the students continuing to chant, a flag being hoisted up in the wind.

My friend seems to have forgotten that she has my ticket.

“Fair point,” He nods, “Want to get something to eat instead and then pop in on the after party?” He proposes, taking me by surprise.

Guys as good looking as him do not ask to go get food, they tend to cut straight to the fuckery boy routine.

“And before you try to say something about kidnapping you and throwing you into a fratboy sanctum, I assure you, I am legitimately hungry.” He chuckles, reading my mind as I think of a sassy comment.

“Since you are so reassuring, sure.” I agree, stepping away from the car, “How much of Manhattan have you truly seen?” I enquire, uncertain of how long he has been here.

He gives me a shrug, “Not too much, just bits and pieces.”

“I know this really nice restaurant, it is in Little Italy, it takes like forty minutes to get there, but I promise it is worth it. Plus, everything around here will be full of fanatic fans.” I point out, feeling like I need to convince him like I have to everyone else when I offer to go down to Little Italy. “I will even drive, it is definitely worth it, cute little dainty restaurants in little Italy, are great. Hell, I will even pay.”

He charmingly smiles, telling me otherwise, “You don’t need to convince me, although, it is rather cute.” He chuckles, causing me to blush.

No, I can not harbour any sorts of feelings unless platonic.

“But, before I agree to this fully, you gotta tell me your name.” He flashes me a smile that is more of a cheeky grin.

I sigh before I nod, giving up on the mystery I wish I could keep, “Allie, my name is Allie-Grace.” I inform him, giving him my name and ruining the mystery I was wanting to keep. I like the idea of keeping him on his toes and always guessing, for what reason? I do not know.

Little Italy is one of my favourite places to drive down too, there is this feel to it that is so vibrant and soothing, not to mention the food is incredible. Unfortunately, none of my friends appreciates it, maybe they just prefer everything to be beer soaked. Who knows?

I glance up from my menu, witnessing as Harry has his eyebrows furrowed while his eyes are focused intently on the menu. I can’t help but accidentally chuckle to myself, distracting him from the menu.

He raises a brow, “Is something funny?” He does his best to conceal his slight grin,

“You seem very interested in the menu.”

“Oh ha-ha-ha,” He rolls his eyes, “I have to say, I like everything on this menu. You made a good choice coming here.” He comments, crediting my choice of restaurant.

I give him a nod and a smile, “Mhm, quite nice.” .. “So, Harry, tell me about yourself.”

He puts his menu down and cocks his head slightly to the side, “I thought we covered me in the car? I am from Cheshire, England, I have a sister, and I am apparently a frat boy, as you label it.” He reminds me of the debriefing he gave me in the car because I was asking him questions.

I come to my defence rather immediately, “Hey, I am not labelling you,” I shake my head at him, my eyes watching as he laughs softly,

“Mhm, is that why you are getting defensive?” He raises a brow, causing me to furrow my eyebrows, and purse my lips into a straight line.

Damn, he has a point.

He grins with his bright eyes, “Mhm, thought so.” He hums cockily and humorously, “So, what about you? You are a ball of mystery. All I know is your name and that you like this restaurant.”

He is observant, I see. I never know what to tell people when they want to know who I am, I don’t know what it is they want to know.

I shyly glance down at my menu, “Allie?” Harry’s voice distracts me and I am forced to gaze up at his fixed eyes, “Tell me about something, anything.” He graciously requests, more than likely picking up on the fact I have no idea what the hell I am meant to tell him.

I give him a small shrug, “I uh, I never know what to say when asked these questions.” I admit, “Does that count as a fact?” I clear my throat, observing as a waiter begins to walk closer to our table.

“I think so,” Harry nods. Before he has a chance to say anything else, he is interrupted by the waiter ready to take our order. Harry flicks his eyes towards me to order first and I do so.

While he is scanning the menu and debating on what to order, I can’t help but wonder about what I am meant to tell him regarding who I am as a person. Other people have described me as intuitive and focused, I just… I don’t know how to describe myself. I am just me. An ordinary girl who is trying to get through college without emotional breakdowns or tragedies.

I am just trying to live my life and accomplish things, what I want to accomplish, I do not know.

“Allie,” Harry’s voice distracts me from my indecisive thoughts. I gaze up at him and give him a small smile, “You seem deep in thought,” He comments, reminding me that he is, indeed, very observant of things.

“Hm.. So, I am from Manhattan, as you know. Uhm, I suck at this,” I awkwardly chuckle, completely unaware of what to say about myself.

He makes a witty joke and smoothes out the awkwardness, giving me a sweet smile as he takes control of the conversation and removes the spotlight from myself.

I get lost within our conversation, seeming completely and utterly interested in every word he says, it might be the drawn out accent, or it might be the fact that I can actually have a decent conversation with him, without him throwing some ridiculous frat boy comment at me—Something I am not used to when sitting down with a guy.

My eyes flicker towards the door as I hear the familiar bell echoing, an indication a new customer has entered. My heart skips a beat the moment my eyes meet a familiarly daunting figure, a configuration that has been burnt into my mind to the point I can never forget it.

No matter how hard I attempt to free myself of the engravings, the illustration will always be embedded into me.

I instantly let out a breath, my mind scrambling with many insights, one of them being ‘to get out.’

I look up at Harry and his smile fades, “There is this other place that is really, really, neat, we should go there.” I stutter, “like, now.” I quietly comment, observing as he glances at me peculiarly, “This place is crowded.” I continue, my nerves getting the better of me.

He glances around and gazes back at me, “Allie, the restaurant is nearly empty.” He informs me, his eyes flickering towards the same direction my own have been guarding.

“It is empty, but I feel too crowded, please?” I whisper, my eyes eventually dropping to the table as I try to conceal myself from the eyes of the one who just stepped in.