Even Angels Fall (Harry Styles)

Chapter 9

Even Angels Fall ~ Chapter 9

"Harry," I grated.

"Rose," He grunted.

His usually warm forest eyes shot icy daggers that, if they were real, would've whizzed just past my head and tore holes into Tori's chest behind me.

"This is Salvatorio," I jerked my chin towards the man behind me. "Tori, this is Harry."

The tall Italian stepped in front of me, extending his arm for Harry to shake. Harry, however, only stared at his outstretched palm as if it were infested with godforsaken parasites that would kill him upon contact. If the look he gave him wasn't enough then Tori surely would've understood the other boy's evident dislike towards him when he pocketed his hands in the back of his jeans.

“Nice to meet you too,” my new acquaintance muttered, assuming his position beside me. The tension bloomed thick in the air, suffocating us in its attempts to boast its fortitude. “Err…I’ll just be going then.” Salvatorio broke the silence awkwardly, shattering the tension which shrunk to the floor, stamping its foot like an impatient child.

I turned my attention to the man beside me, reveling in his effortless beauty. “It was really nice meeting you Tori, I’m glad you came past.” He nudged me softly, grinning from ear to ear. “Come on Ro, you make it sound like you’re never seeing me again.” I flushed slightly at his use of my new nickname, pointedly aware of Mr. Precious Pop-star observing our conversation. “I’ll see you on Thursday then?” I asked, smiling up at Tori.

“No, I’ll see you.” He shot me a sly wink, swooping down and pecking me quickly on the cheek, his lips narrowly missing my mouth. I was sure my cheeks were tinted a deep crimson by this point but I was quite thoroughly sated watching Harry squirm on the sidelines.

I giggled softly as he departed, making his way towards a black Jeep. Turning the windows down as he passed, he waved a final goodbye as he sped off down the road, leaving me to confront a rather fuming Harry. As his car became but a blotch at the end of the tarmac strip I ceased my waving, turning on my heel and marching back up the stairs to my apartment.

“Hey!” He called from behind, scrambling after me. My blatant disregard only seemed to add to his fury, the momentum in his legs building as he bounded four steps at a time. “Rose!” He snapped, grasping my wrist and firmly yanking me towards him. I fell backwards, a fear of tumbling down the steps headfirst igniting in the pit of my stomach. When I landed flush against his body, our limbs merely hindered by a smattering of clothing, the fear was washed away by turbulent waves of fiery red fury.

“Why are you here?!” I shoved him off me, grounding myself as he staggered slightly.

    “We need to talk.”

“Whatever it is, I have no care for it.” I seethed, fixing him with a pointed glare before turning my back on him once more. “Bullshit.” He was relentless it seems, following me right up to my door.

I turned on him, jabbing my finger into his muscled chest. “Listen Bucko,” I spat, “don’t come in here thinking you know everything because you don’t. I have no care for your pompous ass an-“

He threw me up against the door, and with large hands grasping the sides of my face, he molded his lips to mine, forcing his tongue between my lips. His mouth devoured mine with ardor, every sensual flick of his tongue against mine pounding tempestuously. Every inch of his antagonism oozed from between his lips, pooling into my own as ground his body against mine.

One of his hands fell to my back, pressing me against him, whilst the other fiddled with the door knob, kicking the door open for us to mindlessly fall into the small apartment. We tumbled in, the door no longer supporting our weight, and fell to the floor in each other’s arms. He wasted no time, reluctantly breaking our heated osculation, only to haul me to my feet and pull me to him once more. His hands charted the territory against my body as his lips ventured southwards across my neck, splattering kisses along my collarbones.