Dust Bones [Harry Styles]

057

important n. sorry for the wait. so much studying for so many final exams. i finally have time today. anyways, i've got an announcement. instead of making this story 80 chapters (which is highly tedious because the plot will only drag on if i do so) i'm going to make it 68 parts in total. meaning, there are 11 chapters left. it fits better to do so. thank you for reading!

 i really liked writing this chapter. hope ya'll like it.

Our next stop was dead in the center of a busy, crowded street in Bridgetown. It was small, and yet a perfectly blended place to stay. It is nothing out of the ordinary, so this is a precise place to stay. We walk up narrow stairs with our bags, the heat already becoming intense. Harry leads the way, while I examine our surroundings.

I have yet to talk to him. Since I made that statement, that I will not forgive him yet nor will I speak with him, he has respected my wishes. I consistently forgive him for things, and though I hate myself for it, it simply occurs. This time, in a quite childishly manner, I force myself to let go of my habits and hold a strong hold to a goal.

He opens a door, revealing a tiny room with two doors in total. The furnished area has floral prints everywhere, and a turned off fan perched between the wall and a window. I inhale and immediately catch the scent of cigarettes and food. Harry opens the windows, spreading the curtains and letting the sunlight beams strike through.

I place my bag on the floral printed couch, stretching my arms and looking through the rest of this highly compacted place. Picture frames of landscapes and cities, and even a cat. There are white metal embellished chairs and a tiny table in the kitchen, a rusted stove, and a fridge that when I open, has no food.

Shutting it closed, I turn around to face Harry, who is lining up his guns across a blue coffee table. I raise my eyebrows. His most obsessive habit is probably lining up those guns every time. It's like he doesn't want to miscount regardless of many times he does count.

Rather not ask why, however. I look further through, finding a tub with running water. I sigh in relief to myself, grabbing my bag back in the living room, and proceeding to take a bath. I fill the tub about half way and just plop myself in the cold water. I sit there, bored and yet content.

I start to play around with objects that surround me. I find a worn out book that later on, I begin to read. It is a non-fictional book about wives who've murdered their husbands. With interest, I continue to read from it, up until my skin cannot absorb anymore water, and I'm forced to drain the tub.

Drying off, I nakedly search for a towel that I cannot find. Figures. I sigh, deciding to get back into the tub, this time sitting sideways as my legs hang from the side. I get comfortable, holding the novel up to my face and continuing to read from it.

About half an hour later, when the tub is drying and inevitably, so have I, I hear the door open. Harry stands there, clearly watching me. I don't peak up at him, too irritated with him to give him even a fraction of my attention. However, I do know he's got that little smirk on his face. That devious smirk I have only recently got to see.

"You look so good there, baby," is what he murmurs lowly, huskily. That stupid tone that makes every bone in my body ache. This time though, I put on a very steady, concrete wall between me, him, and my lust for him.

I find that we do this a lot. Sexual innuendos and plain, good ol' sex. We tease the hell out of one another regardless of what situation we're in, and it becomes an issue of distraction. I regret promising him angry sex. At the time, I just really wanted to experience it say...angrily, obviously, but now I'm just full blown pissed.

My eyes remain on the book. Neutral and unfazed. It's as if he wasn't even there. He amusingly grins to himself before sighing, sitting on a the toilet seat. The door he left open allows air to flow, hitting my naked body. It makes my most sensitive parts sensitive and it is noticeable.