WORKING FOR STYLES

6. Stoned

Harry's Point of View

As I go to my closet to grab a new shirt, I can’t help but walk past the bathroom. I can see her. I can see her in just her top and undies looking at her self in the mirror, like she’s judging her self, harshly.

“Do you have any face wash or is Harry Styles to manly for that kinda shit?” she calls from the bathroom giggling, like she’s proud of that one. I hide behind the wall separating us. God how she makes me laugh. It’s like she felt badass for putting in the swear word.

“Yeah, to the right of you” I say shaking my head still laughing.

“To the right of me?” shit. Um.

“To the right of the sink I mean” I hope she didn’t suspect that I saw her. No way she could! It’s still dark in here and it’s bright in there. God, what am I even doing!

“Thank you!” she calls from the bathroom. I take a step to my left with my back to her. I’m having a mental battle whether to turn around. Fuck it! She’s not officially my manager until another two hours. I look at her as she washes her face, first rubbing her eyes and her forehead and then her chin, splashing water back at her face. As I watch her, I’m mesmerized by more than just her being there, in my room, in my bathroom washing the make up of her face. But by her looking so beautiful the way she is. I can see a couple more tattoo’s on her petite body; one at her ribs that I can’t make out just yet and another just peaking out form under her undies bellow her right pelvic bone. I can’t really make it out either, which is so frustrating because if it where any other girl id come up behind her and slide my hands into the sides of her undies and then slide them down, kissing ever inch as I go down including the tattoo I’m yet to see.  But god, her body, I don’t know if I’m still stoned but in this moment she looks like an angel to me.

She dries her face looking back at her self, almost frowning I think. How could she frown at herself, I’m smiling to myself just looking at her. Maybe she regrets everything that happened tonight, I must say it wasn’t smart. But its like I couldn’t control my self, her body in those jeans. I think I’m just attracted to her, like any hot petite brunette.

She goes to turn the shower on pulling her shirt off, letting her hair fall past her bra. She goes to unhook it and I can tell she’s still drunk because she’s having trouble. And I, I just wish I could walk over moving her hair to the side, starting to kiss the tattoo at the back of her ear to her shoulder unhooking her bra letting it fal to her feet. God damn what is wrong with me! I don’t even enjoy kissing, or passion – I’m more of a throw down kind of guy but the way I’m feeling about her now, I just want to kiss every inch of her body.

 Fuck I’m stoned. That’s the only explanation I have. I’m stoned.

Katerina’s Point of View

I sit down in the bathtub and let the water run, filling the bath around me with steaming hot water. I pour the hotel body wash onto my back and let the water run down it, creating mountains of foam. I’m still very confused by the information from tonight and what has happened between Harry and I. I don’t feel an ounce of guilt. Or maybe I’m stoned and I can’t snap back into the reality of things. I have my hair in a bun as I don’t have time to wash it, and I let the water fill up to the rim.

 Obviously, in my sedated post pot state, I didn’t hear harry come, nor supposedly ask to come in.

“You okay, Kat?” he says leaning his chin onto my arm that’s resting on the rim of the bath.

“Yeah. What time is it? Have I been here for too long?” I say lifting my head up to look at him. He’s got a weird look in his eyes, like he’s in deep thought. It was a simple question, right? God. Drugs, never again.