the writer // harry styles au

chapter 8

Alexis

Hi, Alexis. I know that our first date maybe didn't go like normal ones do, but maybe we can try again? I just need to see you again. Please, text back. H.xx

With each word of that text I had felt myself slowly diminishing the wall I was building to sheild the horrible relationship I would probably end up in. With every interaction with Harry I felt myself falling deeper and deeper into a state of infautuation and I didn't need that. With his witty words and charming smile, my normal self was slowly turning into a giddy lovesick girl with no life what-so-ever.

I wanted to reply. I wanted to see him again; to feel and know every part of him, but my heart needed to be smart in this situation. I didn't want to set myself up for major destruction and slowly watch Harry fall in love with a book character. A fictional, made-up, imaginary character. I hope he kills her off, make everyone that reads gthe book hate his guts for killing off a main character. I want them to feel how I have felt. Deceived by his cunning mind, but taken but his beautiful ways. He was some sort of demon with admirable traits who makes me more whipped than I thought i would ever be with anyone.

I replied, and with each letter I pressed I felt myself begging to stop but this boy was to good to let him slip through my grip.

"Lex," Jess pressed. I had been so spaced out I hasn't even registered the fact I had my head in her lap.

"He's the devil," I said. I could feel her chuckle.

"A good looking one," she replied.

"What if along with the fact that he is mentally fucking me up, he's also really bad in bed," I questioned myself and Jess.

"There is no way that boy would be bad in bed." Her hands were creating a nest of knots in my hair, but I didn't care. With each knot I found later and tried to remove I forgot about Harry for a short while, and it helped.

"He hasn't had sex in two years," I told her. She didn't reply for a few seconds, obviously shocked by the same information I was.

"Two years?" She asked. I nod my head in confirmation. "Yep, there's something wrong with him," she confirmed.

"He was big, so he can't be that bad. It has to go to some use," I laughed out.

"It's like a hose: only used when needed, but when it is used, it's on," she said. I laughed. Hard.

"I'll make sure to get back to you on that one."

I sat up and pushed my fringe back. My hair was sticking up in all sorts of directions and I know I looked like shit, but I didn't care. The mere thought of actually caring about my appearance over Harry made me sick. I was so paranoid on what the hell was going on in this situation I hadn't showered for about two days, but I'd have to for the date I would probably be on later that week.

The soft carpet rubbed against my feet, each step moving me closer to my phone and fears. I picked up the phone and unlocked it, getting the password wrong at least 2 times before it actually unlocked. I replied, against my better judgment.

Hi, Harry. I would love to see you again. You name it, I'll be there.

Probably one of the most cheesy texts I had ever sent, but I couldn't change it. Within seconds he had responded, telling me when he'd pick me up and what the dress code was. To say I was nervous would've been an understatement. This boy messed with my head.

"Jess, I'm going out with Harry! Get your ass in here to do my makeup!"

***

To say it was awkward was a slight understatement. When he'd picked me up I was- just like the first time- running around my flat like a lunatic. Jess had gone to answer the door only the have Harry think he was at the wrong apartment.

"Oh, no, you're not. I'm Jess, Alexis' bit-"

"Friend," I yelled from my bedroom.

Jess told me his face looked like he had just seen me fart- which he hadn't. She said he literally refused to come any further into the flat than the door, for some odd reason.

"Nice to meet you, Jess," Harry said.

At this point, I was attempting to semi-run in my stupid heels. His faces lit up and my heart sped up. He shuffled on his feet, rolling his ankles out. I gave a short wave to him, he copied with the same gesture, but accompanied with a large grin. He took my hand in his when I was close enough. The rough pads of his fingers faintly felt over the back of my hand.

The cold air hit me like a train, with every step I took I felt like each nerve in my body freezing. Each nerve that should've probably been frozen was ignited with fire by Harry's slight touch. With each small smirk, thumb rub or protective movement my body was warming. He pulled me faster to his car, wanting to get us into the warm confines that his car held.

Once inside, he turned on the heating immediately, running his hands together in front of the vents. His long fingers looked hot; I could only imagine what it would feel like to have him run them carefully along every curve of my body, brushing them ever so lightly across my skin. The two rings on his index and middle fingers on the left hand looked cheap. For someone who made a lot of money, I would expect some thousand dollar ring on his finger, not something that came our of a arcade game.

"Give me your hands," Harry ordered. I complied, pulling my hands from my coat and letting Harry cup them in his.

He brought them up to his mouth, letting out a hot breath and then rubbing them between his hands. He repeated the action a few times. I could just see his smirk from behind my hands. He kissed my knuckles, one by one, before letting my hands rest back in my lap.

Do I thank him? I thought. Was that something I should thank him for?

Harry started up his car, pulling out from the side of the street. I was not ready for what was to come.