Where Your Heart Is (A Harry Styles Fanfiction) #pfcc2k16 #Wattys2016

Chapter Thirty-One: Coming Down.

Instead, I do the same old tour I always make when I want to sneak my way to Harry's floor and I go down to the parking lot and into the elevator that will shoot me all the way up.

The hallway is deserted and deadly silent, which makes me assume that everyone is sleeping soundly in their respective rooms. I stand in front of his door for a few seconds with my hand touching the pocket on the back of my jeans, wondering if I should do what I want to do.

Before I know it I'm twirling the card key he once gave me between my fingers. And the next second, I am already inside.

The room is pitch dark and in total silence aside from the sound of his breathing. He has been suffering from an awful case of hay fever since the night before so I can hear him from the moment I walk in.

I blindly follow the sounds he makes, groping the wall beside me for more guidance and all I can think about is how stupid this is.

"Ouch!"

My shin crashes against what seems to be a chair that wasn't supposed to be there. I reflexively bend over to touch my hurting leg and I trip over something else, maybe a suitcase. I have been in this room too many times by now; I should have known better.

"What!?" He must have woken up in the middle of a breath because his voice comes out like a weird snort. "What is it!?" He shouts, and the light by the bed turns on.

I cringe and screw my eyes shut, standing still on my spot as if I could stop him from seeing me by doing that.

"Lea?"

My eyes open one at time, meeting a half-naked, ruffled haired and puffy eyed man. Sleepiness is plastered all over his face, as well as confusion, as he clumsily swings the covers away and stands up from the bed.

"Yes... I'm sorry; I didn't mean to wake you." I manage to say, looking down at my feet, confirming that it was indeed one of his suitcases what I stumbled upon. "This place is a mess, Harry!"

I only said that just for the sake of saying something. Anything that would shake the embarrassment away. Needless to say it doesn't work out for me, and I still feel like an idiot.

"Are you okay?" He asks, rubbing his face with both hands and then pushing his hair back. "What are you doing here? What time is it?"

He walks over to me, dodging the deadly traps that are his scattered clothes all over the floor. And I smile, remembering how tidy his room used to be at the beginning and how messier it started to get as the days went by.

"I'm fine. Is really early, actually." I respond to the first and the last questions. I have no idea how to answer the second one.

His arms creep around my waistline, pulling me to a soft kiss. And when he looks at me, this time a little bit more awake, the carefree lad I know seems to be back.

Maybe I was wrong after all, and my intuition failed on me this time. Maybe, he wasn't lying to me and whatever happened yesterday was in fact something personal, and it is now all sorted out.

"Aren't you supposed to be at school right now?" He asks while picking up a few things from the floor, only to throw them on the bed.

"Aren't you supposed to let room service in once in a while?" I retort, taking a pair of boxer briefs with my fingers as if I was disgusted by them.

He lets out a laugh and shrugs sheepishly, snatching his underwear from me and adding it to the messy pile.

"Come here." He pulls me into a deep kiss, taking me down with him to the bed. "Let's roll about in my filth, baby!"