Perfect (Harry Styles FanFic)

Chapter Twenty-Two

Carter's POV:

"Why?" I ask, sitting up on my shoulders, as I watch Harry shake out his towel dried hair. "I wanna come."

"You're not coming with me." He says. He pulls on a pair of skinny jeans and then buttons up a shirt. "You're going to stay right here, and whenever I come back, I'll lay right there," he points to the spot on the bed that he lays on, "and it'll all be okay."

"I don't wanna be alone." I whisper.

He smiles softly at me. "I'll be home as soon as I can, babe." He comes to the bed, and kisses my forehead. "Try to sleep. Please?"

I nod, and twist my fingers in his curls. "Don't get arrested."

"I won't." he smirks.

"I'm serious."

"So am I."

"Please be careful." I sit up on my knees so that I'm eye level with him. I wrap my arms around his neck, and run my nose against his cheek. "Before you go, can you tuck me in?"

He smirks, before picking me up, and throwing me over his shoulder, his hands tightly clasping my legs to his chest. He throws me onto the bed, and I squeal. He hovers over me before trailing kisses from my stomach to my mouth.

"Stop teasing me." I murmur under his kiss.

"You want me to stop?" He raises his eyebrows.

I shake my head. "No. I want to try again."

"And we will." He assures, before getting off me. "But right now, I need to leave. And you need some sleep." He tucks the covers around my body, and then places a soft kiss on my lips.

I try to deepen it, but he pulls off. "Nope. Good night, love." He whispers, kissing my cheek before turning the light off and walking out of my room, leaving me alone, wanting his touch on me.

~

Harry's POV:

I walk to the front counter, and ring the small service bell.

A lady with graying black hair looks up at me. "How may I help you?" She pops a bubble whenever she's finished with the sentence.

"I'm Harry Styles. I was called down here for," I raise my hands in the air and make air quotes. "'questioning.'"

"Oh. Detective Warner!" she calls in the back, cupping her hands around her mouth.

A middle aged guy with dark black hair walks up front. "Yeah, Sammie?"

She points to me. "Harry Styles is here."

He nods. "Thanks," he says to her. "Mr. Styles, with me, please." He begins walking to a tan colored door. He opens it for me. "Go in and sit please. Would you like water?"

"No thank you." I say, slumping down into a chair.

"Okay." He walks in and sits down across from me. "Sit up straight, please."

I roll my eyes, and push the chair in, before leaning on the table with my elbows. "Can we hurry this up, please?" Think of a lie, Styles. Get yourself out of here. "I have somewhere to be."

"And where would that be?"

Think, Harry.

"My girlfriend's on bed rest. And she needs help with stuff. Like...pissing."

"I'm sure she'll be fine for a few hours."

"She's a week overdue."

"We'll be sure to let you keep your cell phone on."