Time was frozen for what felt like years, the air was thick and incredibly tense. The words he just suddenly dropped like a nuclear bomb wiped me out mentally. I was scrambling for a solid amount of time until I finally found my voice.
“My dad shot himself at his work when I was ten.”
What would do you say in response? His eyes were sad, and I could tell he didn’t want them to be. He suddenly looked exhausted, and honestly, lost. Suicide, his father took his own life when he was so young. It wasn’t what I expected. I honestly assumed deep down that his parents died, but I thought something painful like a car accident, not something so painfully tragic as this. I hadn’t ever really encountered anything like this before, never. I said the only thing that popped in my head.
He shrugged, playing it off clearly. I came and sat with him, looking at him as he thought. I didn’t want to overwhelm him with touch or words, so I sat quietly. “I didn’t know he was depressed but I guess he was. He shot himself the anniversary of the day my mom left us when I was three.”
“She left you?”
“Yes, she didn’t love us at all. She was miserable here, she hated me. I don’t remember very good memories. I vaguely remember fighting.”
He made a face. “See why I don’t share?”
“Why did you?”
“I don’t know Finley,’ he rubbed his face. “The first time I ever blew you off was because of how intimate that first kiss would have been. I don’t do stuff like that. You just… you’re not threatening in any way. You are blindly innocent, painfully naïve. I enjoy that.”
“Why don’t you like talking to people?”
“I don’t know, I honestly don’t like anyone here for the same reasons you don’t. It feels bland, and watered down. I don’t like getting to know people because they clearly want to ask about your family history and suicide isn’t fun to talk about. Then you swoop in and are this… snow storm that just washed out everything.”
“Is that bad?”
“No, it’s very good, well, I haven’t decided yet.”
I took a breath. “Can we talk now, more personally?”
“Not about the locker.” I nodded. “What do you want to discuss?”
“Do you remember your mom at all?”
“Not really, sometimes I’ll smell something and it’ll remind me of her but that’s it.”
“Why did you reek of lilacs when you helped me with Taylor?”
“Oh, outside there are hundreds of these lilacs plants, I stink of it no matter what. My house doesn’t have an air conditioner, so I have to have the windows open.”
“It’s a good smell,”
“So masculine,” he rolled his eyes.
“It is,” I nudged with a small smile. He looked at me, really stared at me. “You do that a lot.” I whispered.
“You look at me, with this look I can’t understand, or explain.”
“I’m trying to figure out if you’re playing games, being a fake.”
‘A fake what?”
“Person, most girls aren’t like this. You’re supposed to wear too much makeup, have a fake tan and have fake high lights. You’re supposed to hate being around your parents, and spend your daddy’s money on clothes that don’t matter or on other crap. You’re… you’re supposed to look at me like I’m a freak like every other person.”
“But… why?” I frowned. “First off, I was raised differently. I never really thought I needed makeup,” I rubbed my face.
“You don’t, at all. Not there’s anything wrong with girls who wear it, but still, you don’t.”
I smiled a bit. “And I don’t really like to be fake. My mom would never let me do that stuff. I grew up so close with my parents, it’s who I am. I’ll never hate them. I don’t think you’re freak.” I said quietly. “Not at all.”
“I thought you were odd, for digging through my stuff.” I smiled. “But now that I know most of you, well, some of you… I have nothing bad to say.” He got that look again. “I’m not lying.” I nudged him.
“I know, or I’m learning that.”
"I think you're special." I said quietly. He didn't respond, I don't think he knew how.
I tipped my head and kissed him, our lips tangling. He pulled me on his lap, losing himself. I felt it. He laid me back on the couch, his weight on top of me. I loved that feeling. He was so warm, it was overwhelming. It was like he had the ability to steal the breath from my body and give it back in the most beautiful way, a way I couldn’t fathom just yet.
I tugged on his hair gently, his lips picked up, his body grinded into me a fraction. He stilled, waiting to see my reaction.
I was flirtatious, or I could be. I hadn’t ever explored a physical side to myself, so I tilted my hips. He smiled into the kiss, and did it again, and again, and again.
Harry Styles was easily opening me up to a whole new world and side to myself, and I was starting to see, I was opening Harry up too.
A/N: All right guys! I hope you liked these past chapters, more and more of Harry is going to be showed so I can't wait for you to see! Thanks for reading!
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Locker 161 // au (Completed- Editing)Fanfiction
Can a dark mystery bring two people together, or will truth rip them apart? Finley Aims is a new student, she is a blank slate based on how she was raised in an isolated environment with her parents, who are bright research scientists. She tries to...