Harry’s long fingers threaded back through your thick locks, brushing them over your shoulders to get better access at your neck. A moan vibrated from the back of your throat when his teeth nipped at the exposed skin of your neck, palms nudging under your shirt to span out across your stomach. Your back arched in pleasure, the sweet sensation only to be disintegrated by the steering wheel pressing hard into your back.
"Babe," You tried to catch his attention, squeezing your hands against his shoulders. He hummed against your skin, a rather hard nip being applied to your neck.
“Babe," You tried again, tugging at his messy curls.
He lifted his head, frosty eyes darkened with lust. A spark of annoyance shone through them as he irritably bit out,
You frowned, swinging off his lap to scramble back into the passenger seat.
“It’s uncomfortable in here," You stated bluntly,
“Why can’t we ever go inside your house? I mean, we have been dating for a couple months now.."
He avoided your question by jerking his thumb toward the back seat,
“We could move to the back. Or I could lean the seat back a little for you-"
"Why can’t I go inside your house, Harry?" You repeated your question harshly, narrowing your eyes,
“Don’t want your parents to meet me? Embarrassed to introduce me? What is it?"
He sighed, rubbing his hands against his face. A finger brushed against his swollen bottom lip, thumb meeting it to pinch it between the pads of his fingers.
“It’s none of that babe," He cast a glance out the window, focusing on something in the driveway. He sighed heavily, shoulders sagging.
You found yourself seated in the middle of a spacious living room, one among the massive two story house Harry lived in. You chipped away at yournail polish, shifting nervously on the white sectional Harry ordered you to sit on
."I’ll go get you a drink. Stay put."
Your eyes wandered around the room, taking in the modern decor, the expensive pieces of furniture, the family pictures dotting the tables, the paintings scattered across the off white walls. You squinted harder at one of the family pictures. Your eyesight wasn’t the best, and you were kind of afraid to get up and look, but you could clearly make out four figures instead of three.
Did Harry have a sister? Brother?
You were snapped from your thoughts by a faint patter of feet clattering down the nearby staircase. A distinct voice, much different than Harry’s sounded across the open room.
"Mom? Mom is that you?"
You whipped around, startled. A small gasp slipped from your lips, mouth parting as you took in the figure standing on the bottom step.
Straight hair, a similar color to Harry’s, slicked back with what appeared to be a good amount of product. Light brown dress pants, long sleeve button up, and a sweater vest adorned his lean figure. Thick rimmed glasses were perched high on his nose, and even with the short distance between the two of you, you could spot the sparkling green of his eyes that perfectly matched Harry’s. Only his appeared to be softer, kinder.
"Oh!" He stumbled down the last step, glasses tumbling down the bridge of his nose to rest of the tip. He hastily pushed them back up to their proper position, long fingers tugging nervously on the hem of his sweater vest.
“S-sorry, I didn’t know Harry was bringing someone over."
"That’s okay," You scrambled up from the couch.
“I’m Y/N. I’m your brother’s, er. I’ve been seeing your brother." He hadn’t really referred to you as his girlfriend, and from what your friends reported to you, he often used more vulgar terms to describe your ‘relationship’.
"I-I’m Marcel," He stuttered, a nervous smile painted to his lips. “I’m Harry’s twin brother."
"Nice to meet you," You smiled, taking a larger step to offer out your hand. So he was the other person in the pictures.
"Harry didn’t tell me he had a brother."
Marcel hesitantly slipped his hand into yours, shaking it delicately before slipping away his grasp. You ignored the fuzzy feeling that spread to your toes from his slight touch, instead titling your head as he began to speak.