1D Sexual Frustrations

Harry : Intense

Slumping into the beanbag, facing the glass doors, I crossed my legs and opened my book. I began reading. I didn’t take my eyes off the book. Harry was due home within the hour. I couldn’t even look up. I just sat there, pretending to take in the words that my eyes were looking at. Waiting for the storm. 

- - - - -

"Y/N…" Harry blankly shouted. I was yanked back to reality at his voice, but continued staring at my book. The sun had been beating down on my head, and my hair was boiling hot. 

"Y/N!" he shouted at the top of his voice. I slowly moved my head up, and saw the beautiful tall boy stood in the doorway of the glass study doors. White t-shirt, black jeans, odd socks. He squinted at me, and pushed his floppy hair off his face. I swallowed deeply. He had seen it. He had read it. He knew. 

"Come here…" he called down to me. I pursed my lips together, knowing I now needed to answer for my actions. I placed the book down on the wooden patio, and pulled my body out of the beanbag. I stood hesitantly. I couldn’t see Harry’s face properly because of the sun in my eyes. Was he angry? Was he upset? I couldn’t tell. I just watched as he stood in the doorway, waiting for me come forward. 

"Y/N. Come here!" his voice was completely deadpan. Deep and flat. 

I dubiously walked forward. Step by step decreasing the space between us, feeling my heart drumming hard in my chest. As he came into view, he looked stone cold - his face completely still, pale and drained. His usually bright green eyes were clouded and dark. His jaw was clenched. I stopped about a meter in front of him, and waited for his move. He looked at me, straight in the eye, and said nothing. We stood there in silence, he could hear me breathing, and I could hear him. The quietness was killing me. 

"Come." I watched as he turned around and walked through the study, into the hallway. As I followed about 2 meters behind him, he began walking up the stairs towards our bedroom. I knew it, he was going to ask me to pack and leave. I bowed my head in shame, watching my feet carry me up the wood stairs. As he walked into our bedroom, I stopped in the doorway, waiting for him to speak. He stood at the foot of the bed, and turned his head toward me. 

"Get on the bed." his voice was monotone and emotionless. Jaw still tightly clenched. 

My eyes widened in complete shock, my mouth now slightly ajar. I was stunned. What did he just say?!

"Y/N. Please!" Harry’s voice deepened, and his fists clenched slightly, a frown forming across his stone face. He looked fuming.

“Y/N. Get, on the bed!” his voiced boomed and made me jump.

He would never hurt me! He just wouldn’t. What was going on? Confusion and fear was written all over my face, and he could see it. I knew he would never do anything to scare me, but right now I was petrified. 
He lowered and calmed his voice slightly. 
“I’m not going to hurt you Y/N." but his words didn’t ease my anxiety. My breathing became heavier and my body completely froze. 
“I need to know it’s still the same…” he croaked. His words filling our bedroom, which now felt freezing cold. I watched his face, I felt like he was slowly unravelling in front of me. He was beginning to show some emotion. Anger. Hurt. Disappointment.

"I don’t know how long ago you did this… But.. but if I don’t sleep with you right now… If I go away, if I leave now and think about this, over and over again, I’ll never want to sleep with you ever again…" he looked down at the floor sorrowfully, and then back up to me. He was devastated. 

"Y/N, I need to sleep with you. Right now. Get on the bed." He pleaded.

Every hair on my body stood on end. I realised the position I had put him in. We had spent nearly 3 years together, and they were perfect, until now. Looking at the freshly made bed, the white sheets reminded me of that little white piece of paper, my eyes darted back and locked with his. I shuffled towards him, and sat on the end of our bed, looking up at my boyfriend. Harry slowly knelt down, so his face was level with mine. Seeing him this angry, I realised what a physical advantage he had over me. He was huge, and loomed over my small frame. The fists at his sides eased open, knuckles still white, but his jaw remained tightly clenched. His eyes were still, not meeting mine. He looked like a statue, stone and solid, like there was no blood running through his veins. I leant forward to kiss his lips, but he turned away, and then very slowly shook his head. Oh. I looked down, and my heart sank.