Fratboy Harry and Other Stories

Rooms on Fire (The Morning After)

He'd been staring at you all night. If you hadn't kept trying to catch glimpses of him yourself, you wouldn't have believed it.

God he was gorgeous. He was the personification of the phrase "light up the room." Everybody seemed to be wanting to get a piece of him, a moment of his time. And as they should. Harry Styles was a household name for a reason. As if his looks and talent weren't enough, he seemed to be able to charm the pants off anyone within a ten mile radius.

So why he was stealing glances in your direction, you'd never know. But it sent shivers down your spine every time your eyes met, and you thought you might have a heart attack the next time they did. You hadn't made a move yet to walk his way, though you weren't sure why. You weren't exactly the most outgoing person by any stretch, but you weren't really shy either. You definitely had butterflies in your tummy though. And you figured your nerves might get the better of you and make you look like a fool in front of him, which was the last thing you wanted.

So instead, you stayed either planted in your seat next to your friends, or got up to shake hands and mingle with someone one of your friends introduced you to.

About an hour or so later, however, the drinks flowing and the conversations getting lighter, you looked up once again to see Harry's eyes on you. Sipping on your cocktail straw, you began to smile, the tingling sensation growing stronger as he smiled back. You licked your lips just as someone else stole his attention and he turned to talk to them.

You knew it was time to introduce yourself, fool or no fool. But first you needed to go to the ladies room. Touching your friend's arm to get her attention, you whispered to her where you were going and she nodded in response. Harry was still talking with a group of people around him, so you slipped away to the restroom.

After washing your hands, you opened the door to return to the party.

"Hello," you heard a distinctive British accent say.

You stopped in your tracks, turning your head to see Harry standing next to the bar, a drink in his hand and a sexy smirk on his face.

"Hi," you greeted back, taking a step towards him.

"I'm Harry," he said offering his hand.

You giggled as you shook it. "Yes, I know. I'm [Y/N]."

"Nice to meet you, [Y/N]," he grinned before turning around and producing another glass. "I got this for you."

You stared at the glass, its contents the exact cocktail you had been drinking all evening.

"For me?"

Harry nodded as you took it hesitantly.

"I came over to talk to you, but you'd gone."

"Oh," you blushed. "Thank you."

You brought the glass to your mouth, sipping on the straw.

"Let's go sit over there, yeah?" Harry suggested, gesturing toward a table behind you.

You raised your brows in agreement, turning and sliding into the booth. Harry followed, slipping in next to you.

"So tell me about yourself, [Y/N]," he insisted.

Shyly you lowered your gaze, focusing on the glass in front of you.

"What do you wanna know?" you asked with a grin.

"Everything," Harry replied, adjusting himself on the seat to face you, his wrist touching the back of the booth behind you.

You raised your brows. "That could take hours."