killer instinct - || h.s. ||

54

" no one has ever cared for me as much as you do "

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harry styles.

I run my fingers through my hair, and naturally, click my carabiner to my belt loop of these warm brown corduroy pants falling to my ankles. My simple wife-beater stays tight against my torso with a cream-colored short-sleeve, button-down laying open as I gather the last of my things before tucking my switchblade into the back of my pants.

"Rory!" I mindlessly call out into my loft, not used to the idea of waiting on someone before heading out these days.

"I'm right here, idiot," she laughs nearby, eliciting a quick 180 from me to find her directly behind me.

My eyes instantly settle on my girl without words describing how stunning she looks, even in simple party clothes.

Her dark, inky waves fall in styled curls over her bare shoulders. She dons just those low-waisted, blue jeans with her lace red thong just barely peeking out on her hips with a cropped, white tank top embroidered with little cherries and a lace-trimmed neckline.

My eyes trace every bit of her curved figure as she snickers at my reaction, analyzing every tattoo delicately etched into her toned skin.

"Stop–" she shoves my face away with a tinting blush to her cheeks. I can only laugh in disbelief before grabbing her by her hips to deliberately guide her stumbling steps back against the edge of the kitchen countertop.

She blinks up at me with those kaleidoscope eyes accentuated with dark makeup, and a shy, tight-lipped smile while unable to take any more of the gaze I have burning into her.

I subtly shake my head with a smirk on my face, processing the fact that I get to have her. "Jesus, fuck–" I whisper ever so thickly, and she drops her forehead to press it against my chest with a blush painting her cheeks.

"No, no, let me look at you before I have to pretend tonight," I coax her pretty eyes up to mine while I gently grasp her jaw to tilt her face upon me.

Her amber-and-green eyes twinkle up at me while she rolls her full lips into her mouth to contain herself, but the deep, crimson hue across her cheeks already tells me enough.

I tilt my head down, and intently lay my lips to her cheekbone. "Fuck's sake, you're unbelievable," I mumble into her plush skin seeped in the gentle scent of her sweet perfume blending with the usual tobacco.

"Harry," she lightly laughs, and like it always is, it only rolls through me like a moment under the bliss of the stars.

My lips curve upward against her warm skin, and I trail my gentle kisses down to the hinge of her jaw to draw a soft gasp from her sweet spot.

My hips gently press her into the marble counter, and she slips her hand to grasp my hair at the nape of my neck to tilt her head back to its center. Within another heartbeat, she's leaning up on her toes to connect our mouths.

I smile into her lips and flutter my eyes shut at the sensation sparking the entirety of my anatomy to life. Her cocoa butter chapstick stains my lips, and our mouths sink into the familiar melody with our soft affection echoing through the quiet of my loft.

"We have to go," she murmurs with an inhale to the initiated depth of our kiss while I teasingly sink my teeth into her bottom lip.

Drawing a soft hum from her chest was all I need before slipping her plump lip from my teeth with a smirk smug on my lips.