"You push it hard, I pull away, i'm feeling hot & on fire, I guess that no one really made me feel that much higher." -Lana Del Ray, West Coast.
The loud yet calm sound of music could be heard from the ground floor of the building, pumping my own excitement. Gemma runs a final hand through her lavender colored hair. The thought of being at a pub was quite overwhelming, the broad smile not leaving my face.
Harry was silently walking behind us. He hadn't spoken anything the whole time during the ride, I hate to admit this but I was a bit disappointed. Our parents gave Harry the responsibility of taking us somewhere and 'getting along'. Without informing them, Gemma and Harry made a plan on taking us to a pub as we haven't visited one before.
I was happy how we got along and thought of being good friends instead of insulting and humiliating each other. I like how he changed his behavior towards me, how he changed into a nicer version which makes me desire his company, makes me want to meet him more frequently. To be honest, I was happy to see him.
The pub was warm, different colors lighting the intriguing area. The place was less crowded, a few people seated on the bar stools; probably getting wasted tonight. Harry leads us to the triple pool tables lined in a straight row, only 1 occupied by a few boys. He stands in front of us, signaling if we wanted to play.
"Iris and I will have some drinks first, we'll join later." Gemma informs, "You already know I suck at it." Gemma links her arm with Iris' and gives Harry a small, teasing smile.
Harry huffs before turning around to grab two cues. He hands me one and I hesitantly take it. He notices my reluctant attitude and raises his left eye brow.
"I really don't know how to play." I declare, voice low.
"I'm not surprised." He sarcastically remarks, his eyes not meeting mine once; no smile or smirk on his face. I wanted to explain how even after requesting my father million times, also taking this excuse so he could spend time with me, no one was there to teach me. But I decide against it.
He takes the cue from my hand and made his way around the square table, retrieving the chalk from the table. Perfectly chalking the tip of the cue, he walks back.
"Hold this." He orders. Taking the cue from his hands, I glance at Gemma and Iris who were busy in a conversation. I turn back to the curly- haired boy standing next to me. He motions for me to start playing, his face expressionless.
"You're supposed to teach me." I complain.
"I know, don't tell me what to do." He spoke, rather harshly. "Start playing." Are we back to his previous attitude again?
Rolling my eyes, I look towards the table. Stepping back, I visualize the angle, and then approach the table with my cue at hip level, making a directing line from cue ball to object ball. I tried my best to figure how to make the bridge; it was the most technical part of pool for me. I cup my hand on the table and place the shaft of the cue stick in the groove between my index and middle finger. A light chuckle escaped from Harry's side, making me insecure of my knowledge about the bridge. My attention diverts to the new contact near my hips, the same sensation came upwards to my back, and his bare arm came in contact with mine. My body reacting to his touch almost immediately, which was infuriating.
"Let me help." He whispers in my ear, shivers following down my spine. He places his hand on top of mine, directing me on how to make the perfect bridge. The shaft of the stick was placed on groove between my thumb and index finger. He places his hand on top of mine that was at the end of the wooden cue. Targeting the yellow ball in front of us, he swiftly pushes the cue aiming the white ball in front of us. The white ball smacks the yellow one pushing it to the hole down the table.
Even after the shot he did not let go, I was a bit uncomfortable with the contact. His metal cross necklace cool against the flesh between my neck and shoulder as he leans near my ear. I could sense the warmth of his breath near my ear.
"You smell good." Harry huskily whispers, his curls tickling my cheek as he brushes his lips on my jaw. My breath hitches in my throat and I wanted to gasp for air. Serious shivers started to go down my body; my cheeks heating up. I jump up, pushing him off of me. A laugh being heard from the tall guy behind me. My eyes almost too shy to peer up at his tall figure.
My mind is questioning me, how I hadn't even made an attempt to remove his touch on my flesh but I tend to ignore that because I had no answer.
"Give it a try yourself." Harry advices and I nod, still not looking at him. Recalling the method he had taught, I successfully get the green ball in the hole. Rapt by the little strike, I face Harry with a huge grin only to find him with a group of people. I turn back around, staring down at my palm.
Heavy laughers and footsteps approach where I'm standing and I tug at my blazer in front of my chest.
There are four to five boys, almost Harry's age, and one female who grabs the cues for everyone. They all wore jeans and shirts and I felt stupid in a formal dress and blazer. I watch Harry to somehow gain his attention but he denies any eye contact with me. All of them are oblivious about my presence until one boy turns around, meeting my eyes forthwith.
"Ah, Styles?" He taps Harry's shoulder, not leaving my eyes and I notice the blue color in them. "Would you mind introducing her?" Harry's gaze switch to me for a mere second before he turns to his friend, shrugging.
"She's just one of the..." Before Harry could finish his sentence, the blonde boy takes a few steps to approach me; gaining the unwanted attention from the rest of his friends.
"I'm Niall." He offers his hand, smiling.
"Indie." I take his hand for a light shake, being the first one to withdraw from the touch too.
"Nice to meet you." He says and I felt my attention dividing between him and the eyes on me.
"Same." I mumble.
"You're really pretty." He comments and I felt heat increase on my cheeks.
"Niall, pal." Another boy speaks. "You should shut up and start playing." They all chuckle and the blonde boy, Niall, smiles in my direction.
"Never heard the name Indie though." A brunette boy speaks, his hair covering his forehead.
"It's Indiana." Harry speaks, giving me a look before turning away to smirk at his friend. The brunette girl, who was approximately really close to Harry, seemed familiar somehow.
"No offense though, but this is a pub, not your princess ceremony." Other blonde comments, making the whole group erupt in laughter. It wasn't his cruel comment that scratched me; it was how Harry was amongst the laughing group.
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