As soon as Harry has unlocked the front door, I push him aside and get inside before he does, heading straight to the bedroom where he puts my luggage in earlier. The sound of his laughter follows me and I shut it out by pressing my palms against my ears. It is such a childish act, I know, but I can't find it in me to care.
The rest of the couples night didn't go as well as it did in the first one hour and although I refuse to admit it, I think I'm the one to be blamed. After Freya left the kitchen, her demeanour – towards me, especially – changed drastically. I doubt anyone noticed it, however, because I don't think they could see right through her fake smile like I could. Because of that, as soon as we've finished playing The Game of Life, Harry and I were the first one to leave.
No one noticed that Freya hardly looked at me.
I push the worrying thoughts to the very back of my mind as I wriggle out of my skinny jeans, relieved to finally be able to change into something much more comfortable.
In the midst of taking off my shirt, I hear the knob being twisted and before I can register what's happening, Harry walks in. A yelp escapes my throat as my entire body freezes.
Instead of looking away immediately, Harry kinks an eyebrow and if I already don't feel exposed, his hungry stare and playful smirk as he takes in the sight of my figure definitely do the trick.
"What the fuck, Harry?" I shriek as I scramble to pick up my jeans from the floor and cover my legs. It's pointless, though, because he can still see my legs. So, I grab my luggage and wheel it until it's in front of me. At least it covers my bare thighs as I put on my skinny jeans. "Where are your manners? Don't you know how to knock?"
"Why should I knock?" He frowns as he moves around the room, taking off his wristwatch, his rings and placing them on the nightstand next to the king-sized bed. It is only when he's sitting on the edge of the bed that I realise that this is his room. I'm in his room and I'm the one who should be knocking on the door, not him.
Cheeks heating up, I turn on my heels and begin to make my way out of the room whilst dragging my luggage behind me.
"Where're you going?" Harry calls out.
I glance through my shoulder, "Well.. Since this is your room I should probably sleep in another room."
Harry's frowning now and I wonder if I've said something wrong. I wouldn't be surprised if I have, given that that's all I'm capable of doing tonight.
"Don't be ridiculous," Harry says as he gets up from his bed and makes his way towards me. "You'll be sleeping here."
The second those words slip past his lips, I feel colours leaving my face. The thought of having to share a room, let alone a bed with him is enough to horrify me. It's bad enough that I have to live under the same roof as he does, I don't want to share a room with him – that's too much.
Quickly, once I've recovered from the shock, I shake my head, "No way. No. I-No, I'm not sleeping here. Never."
"Stop being so difficult, will you?"
"You stop being so difficult," I counter weakly, "You can't only have one room. That doesn't make sense."
Harry chuckles. Always so amused about something. One day I'll figure out why he's like this. "Well, there are two rooms in this place," he tells me and I grab my luggage, ready to leave but his next words stop me, "But the other one has been renovated. It is now my office."
Of course he has an office room in his house. Harry Styles is a workaholic, after all, and thus, it shouldn't surprise me that he has to have an office in here. But it does surprise me that he doesn't think things through before he invites me to live together with him.
