Weird World [H.S]

98.*

I stared at my screen, my jaw tight as my heart began to race exceptionally hard and fast.

His grandmother too?

How the fuck...

What in the fuck!

The cursor in the text message box on the messenger app was taunting me, flashing as it egged me on to reply to him and correct this fucking weirdo on his mistake... or sick joke.

Rage fuelled me quickly, my veins burning with excruciating fire as I stood in the kitchen and tried to make sense of what this son of a bitch was saying to me.

I mean, was he insinuating that my mother was his?

That was virtually fucking impossible.

Unless he was my father's child, is that what he was trying to say?

Fuck no, my father worshipped my mother, he would never, ever cheat on her.

Gran told me often enough that my father could barely look at another woman, even after my mother had been gone for ten years.

No, this stupid, crazy, sick son of a bitch was playing mind games with me and I was going to absolutely ruin him... how dare he use my grandmother, and my family to get through to me.

How very fucking dare he.

"I thought I told you not to move?"

I spun around on the spot, almost flinging my phone to the side counter as Harry pounded back into the kitchen, his rucksack over his shoulder and a holdall bag in his hand.

He was smiling at me, showing that he was being playful.

"Jesus, you look like you've seen a ghost, is everything okay?"

I nodded, unable to do anything else.

I was still processing what I had just seen and I wasn't ready to share what I had done with Harry just yet, because I didn't want it to ruin our night together.

I hadn't seen him properly all week and I really wanted, hell I needed, this night with him... this night that he had promised to give me, to give each other.

So I did what any other girl can do in the heat of the moment- I painted on my façade, and returned back to the counter where he told me not to move from originally.

"Seriously...? On the counter?" Harry smirked, his hands holding my hips firmly before he hoisted me onto the kitchen top; "For real?"

I nodded, just as he placed me down slowly, his hands still settled on my hips as he stood in-between my legs.

I breathed slowly, his mouth and lips now hotly pressed against my jawline.

I leaned forward a little, easily feeling him through his jeans against my thigh, sensing and feeling how turned on he was for me.

"I've been thinking about you all damn day, Izzy..." he murmured, "Had me rock hard all day."

I smiled, my heart still racing from earlier but now more so of Harry.

"I really liked your pictures..." he murmured, "... they really pleased me."

She's my grandmother too. x

"But I think my favourite one was of you and your boobs... nobody's ever sent me pictures like that before."

Concentrate Izzy, for fuck's sake.

"There's plenty more where that came from, Mr. Styles."

Harry grinned, "Is it sad that I'm quite disappointed I'm not going to be on tour for a while? Having those texts to wake up too would be the icing on the cake if you weren't with me."