Elsie Rose // h.s

thirteen

Sadly, the day at Yale came to an end sooner than I had hoped. After our short detour to the tattoo shop we made our way over to campus. Mr. Styles gave me my own personal tour around campus, throwing in some personal touches.

He showed me the quad where he and my father were walking through when my parents first met. He took me to his favorite study spot and informed me on the best and worst places to get coffee.

I had wished for time to slow down, trying to soak in every second of the place I'd hoped to be calling my home in the next year. As well as every moment I spent with the curly haired Brit.

Mr. Styles had suggested I call him Harry as it sounded a lot less formal and made him feel younger.

I'd only ever met one other person called Harry in my life; he was the son of one of my mother's best girl friends. So I had always associated the name with the younger generation.

Now I found myself associating the name with wisdom. It seemed like such a powerful name.

I sat to Harry's left in the backseat of the car as Michael drove us back into the city. His hand rested on my knee carelessly tracing his fingers over the denim. I slouched down in my seat, lifting my t-shirt up to rest just below my boobs.

I couldn't stop myself from looking down on the fresh ink; my skin was still red from the trauma.  Harry had tried to convince me to re-think the placement of the tattoo, emphasising how painful his butterfly was. And that wasn't even his first tattoo.

However I was adamant on the placement, convincing myself that it was only small so it would be bearable. After two minutes in the chair I was on the verge of tears, Harry sat to my right trying to mask his laughs and I-told-you-so's.

There was no way I was leaving this shop with an incomplete tattoo. If I was going to rebel against my parents there was no half assing it, I had to go all out. "I honestly thought you were going to cry" he teased.

"You didn't tell me it was going to feel that bad!" I defended playfully, I was proud of myself for not shedding any tears. "Hey, I tried to tell you but you weren't having it" His hand gradually moved from my knee till it was resting on my hip.

"I can't get the image of you in your active wear out of my mind." He whispered in my ear "They barely left anything to the imagination..." his hand was on the move again, reaching up to cup my bra clad breast.

I sucked my breath in at his unexpected touch. He gentle massaged my through my bra, his thumb dipping in it to flick over my nipple earning a moan from me. "Come home with me" he whispered before lifting up my shirt to reveal my chest.

He wasted no time as his mouth came into contact with the soft skin of my breast. "Isn't Sasha there?" I asked, trying to hold back my moans as he caressed me so simply.

"She is on a girls trip, won't be back till Monday" he spoke between the kisses. His finger rubbed over my hardening nipple once more, I couldn't keep my moans in any longer as I felt a sensation I'd never felt.

"O-okay" I stuttered, unable to think properly as he sucked on the spot between my boobs creating my first hickey.

"Mine" he mumbled, pulling back to admire his handy work.

--
there's a photo up the top/side of Elsie's tattoo that she got on her sternum 😇

- K x