Chemistry [One Direction: Harry Styles Romance]

:Chapter Eight:

                It’s the weekend. And guess what? I was not ready to go to another party, get drunk again, and pierce something else on my body when I wasn’t conscious.

                “You don’t have to drink,” Harry persuaded, giving me puppy eyes.

                I groaned, “Why do you want to go?”

                He perked up, “Parties are fun. If you come with me, then I’ll give you front row tickets to my benefit concert tomorrow…”

                “You’re using me for my fandom,” I said with narrowed eyes. “Unfair.”

                Harry chuckled, and I knew I wasn’t going to turn the offer down. Front row at a concert when I was friends with all five boys? No way was I going to pass that up! I told him to wait a moment as I walked into my room, searching my closet until I found a skirt and off-the-shoulder cream skirt that I should wear to the party.

                It was a tight black pencil skirt that hugged my curves perfectly and would go perfectly with the shirt. Quickly, I changed into it and ran my fingers through my brunette waves as I walked out of my bedroom and into the family room area, looking at Harry expectantly. He sprang up and assessed me, giving me a once-over with something sparkling in his eyes.

                “Hey,” I snapped my fingers as his gaze landed on my breasts, making it snap up to meet my gaze sheepishly. “Eyes up here.”

                Harry chuckled sheepishly, “Sorry, love. You look great.”

                I nodded appreciatively at him, rummaging around for a pair of shoes. “Thanks. Are you ready to go, or are we picking someone up first?”

                “Nope, I’m ready to go.” He told me.

                We left the hotel room after saying goodbye to my mother, who was lounging around on the deck with her book. She waved us off and soon we were climbing into Harry’s car, the music blasting loud and a party atmosphere already started. We were basking in a comfortable sort of silence that made me smile, listening to Harry sing along to the radio under his breath.

                He seemed to know just where he was going and pulled up to a raging house on the corner of a street; it was large and I could smell the alcohol from the car. There were red solo cups sprawled out on the perfectly polished front yard and even some people already knocked out lying on the yard… or, you know, dry humping in front of the whole neighborhood.

                The music was pounding off the walls by the time we got into the house, and Harry instantly put his hand on the small of my back to lead me towards the kitchen. I smiled slightly when I realized that this is the second party we’ve been to and both times he heads straight for the kitchen as if it were some kind of shelter. But, true to this observation, there weren’t many people in the kitchen.

                “Do you want a drink?” Harry said, raising his voice slightly over the music as he nodded his curly head towards the cooler beside the fridge. “I’m not allowing you to have more than two beers, though.”

                I smiled slightly, saying, “I’m fine, thanks. I think I’m going to try to keep my alcohol level as low as possible.”

                He grinned lazily. “Then you’re the designated driver.”

                “Fine by me,” I agreed.