Rain | Harry Styles

2.4

I applied my makeup within an hour, taking far too long to do so, but - what's makeup without singing some songs obnoxiously loud while you're doing it? I blow dried my hair, creating my best attempts at soft waves with my pathetic excuse for hair - it was often frizzy and untamed due to my pure laziness - before reaching for my dress which lay neatly on my bed.

I lifted it in my hands, the lace soft against my touch - dark red; almost burgundy. I'd remembered buying this with my mother, it was of a price far too high to repeat, but it was beautiful. A lace bodice, the skirt tight around my waist before it flowed outwards, reaching somewhere between my thigh and my knee. My favorite dress, to say the least - but I'd never found somewhere suitable to wear it.

I slipped it over my head, tugging it down onto my body as chatter began to sound downstairs, and I groaned internally. Here we go.

I headed for my bedroom door as my phone began to ring, causing me to spin around quickly to answer it, "Hello?"

"Hey, baby," I could practically hear the grin in Harry's voice, "Tasha just got to mine, and - will you shut the fuck up? I'm on the phone, rat," he snapped, and I heard Tasha shout something in the background, causing me to giggle.

"Anyway," he huffed, continuing to speak, "we'll be there in a few minutes, yeah? I'm just waiting for Mum to get a move on. Dinner's at eight?"

"Dinner's at eight," I nodded, although he couldn't see, "but be here before 7, we need to do the tree," I reminded him, and he chuckled.

"Trust you to leave it until Christmas Eve, eh?"

"Shut up," I rolled my eyes, "not my fault."

"Whatever you say, love - what?" he stopped to talk somebody, "Yeah, alright - 'm gonna go, I'll see you in a minute," he awaited my confirmation before hanging up, as my smile began to grow.

I left my phone on the table, since the only two people I spoke to would be here tonight anyways, before slipping on a simple pair of heels and heading downstairs. The kitchen was full of people spilling out into the hallway, and I flashed a smile at each of them, engaging in the typical small talk I was required to.

"Anastasia, there you are," my mother shot me her greatest and fakest smile, linking her arm with me and pulling me over to a crowd of middle-aged billionaires I didn't know the first name of, "Daddy will be down in time for dinner, of course - is everything well with you?" I groaned internally at the formality of her.

"Perfect, Mother," I smiled to her, saying a simple hello to each guest as they greeted me in return, before a knock sounded at the door. I practically ran to it, swinging it open to reveal Harry, Tasha, and Celia.

"Party's here!" Tasha grinned, wrapping her arms around me and stepping inside, Celia doing the same to leave Harry on the doorstep, who happened to be scanning me closely.

"Fucking hell, Ana - how do you expect me not to act like your boyfriend tonight when you look that good?" he whined, before adding a mutter of "fuck." My cheeks flushed as I grinned before he continued, "you look so bloody good in red."

"You don't look so bad yourself," I laughed.

"How is everything?" he asked, stepping through the door so I could close it behind him.

"As you'd expect," I shrugged, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek, "behave tonight, please," I shot him a look, as he shot me a mischievous one in return.

"I always do," he chuckled, resting his hand on the small of my back for a moment as we walked through to the kitchen, before removing his touch when noticing my mother. I sighed, longing for him to touch me again - though he was only doing as I'd asked.

"Whoa," Tasha handed me a drink, offering one to Harry, but he refused, "so many rich people."

"And they're all assholes, too, so I wouldn't try it with them," I sighed, taking a sip from my champagne flute.

"I mean, I've only seen one cute guy so far," she pouted, and I frowned, glancing around to see who she was talking about.

"Tasha, stop hitting on me - my girlfriend is right here," Harry remarked, and she whacked him in his chest as he spluttered with laughter.

"Gross, not you. Him," she pointed to a blonde haired boy who stood in the corner of the room, and I squinted my eyes.

"Oh," I nodded, "That's James Jefferson - he's sweet when you get to know him. Do you want me to introduce you?"

"Don't you dare-"

"JJ!" I called a little too loudly, but at least it had caught his attention, as he began to walk over to us, a million dollar smile on his face as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his dress pants.

"Ana Levin, looking beautiful as ever," he shot me a grin, which instantly faded when the both of us caught the glare on Harry's face, "How are you?"

"I'm good," I returned the smile, "how's your sister? Not here tonight, then?"

"Nah, Natalie's out doing god knows what," he chuckled, shaking his head, "I'm glad I made it here this year, though."

"Yeah, me too," I nodded, "well - meet my friends - this is Tasha, and this is-"

"I'm Harry Styles," Harry stepped forward suddenly, outstretching his hand for JJ to take it, which he did. 

"Awkward," Tasha muttered as they shook hands in what was most definitely the most awkward manner I'd ever witnessed. 

"Tasha," JJ flashed her a smile, "can I offer you a drink?"

"Oh, I already have-"

"She'd love one," I cut her off, snatching the glass she already had from her hand as she followed James to the table, shooting me a cheeky grin as she did.

"I'm glad I made it this year," Harry spoke in a voice of emphasised deepness, clearly mocking JJ with it, as I shook my head.

"Don't be rude," I scolded, and he scoffed.

"Oh, he's so sweet," he continued, and I shoved his chest.

"You're the worst," I chuckled, as he hummed, leaning forward in an attempt to connect our lips before I stopped him, "my mother's over there."

"I want to kiss you."

"Later."

"Oh, I'll do more than ki-"

"Anyway," I cleared my throat and my mind of the dirty thoughts he was trying to embed into them, "is this new?" I asked, running my fingers over the collar of his black button up.

"Maybe," he smirked, as I looked him up and down - black button up, black skinnies, boots, and a fedora sat slanted upon his curls that only he could make work.

"You look handsome, street dog," I grinned, as he gasped playfully, drumming his fingertips on my waist, letting his hand travel down to my bum before I quickly drew it away, "don't you dare, Harry Styles."

"Mm," he hummed, eyeing me, "don't tempt me then."

I rolled my eyes, "I didn't do anything."

"You look good," he argued with his smirk growing.

"What, you want me to go and change into pyjamas or something?" I scoffed.

"It'd make things slightly easier," he retorted, "slightly."

"Whatever," I laughed, ravelling the edge of one of his shoulder length curls around my fingertip, "I like this shirt."

"I don't - there's nothing on this world I hate more than buttons," he huffed, and I chuckled.

"Then undo a few," I reached for the top button, and then the second, undoing a total of three as he cocked his eyebrow at me, undoing a further three from the bottom, "Now there's only two done up," I laughed, and he nodded.

"Exactamente!" he declared, "now, we doin' this tree or not, Ana Grace?"