𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬. [ 𝓈𝓁𝑜𝓌 𝓊𝓅𝒹𝒶𝓉𝑒𝓈! ]

𝐢'𝐯𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐨𝐥. [ ☆ ]

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

[ 𝐓𝐁𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐒 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐋𝐎𝐓 𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐎 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐒𝐄 𝐈 𝐂𝐀𝐍'𝐓 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐈𝐓 𝐈 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐍 𝐄𝐗𝐂𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐀𝐋𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓. ]

+ includes red lace, making out, and denim jeans

WORD COUNT: 1,138.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

when he walked into the room you were leaning against the wall with your hands slipped in the back pockets of your jeans.

he loved those jeans because you wore them just the way he wanted you to--pulled dangerously loose around your waist so he'd notice the occasional strip of dark red lace clung tight to your golden skin when you walked a certain way.

he practically consumed you. everything, especially the crooked smile bending across your red mouth. his eyes took their time drinking you in and your smirk grew with every sip.

you coursed your fingers through your hair and pulled a flourishing jungle of wild strands over your shoulder. his heart shuddered when you did that.

only then did he remember to close the door. slam, and it started.

"i didn't know you were so talented, (y/n)." he told you.

"i didn't know you could dance, harry." you returned.

the conversation dropped there. neither of you minded. he took advantage of the silence to walk closer to you, but his strides were slow and taunting.

"why did you want me in here with you?"

his voice was lower than usual and you really liked that. it sparked arousal at the very surface of your chest that made you feel like you were doing something right.

"what gave you that impression?"

"you gave me that look."

"which one?"

"the one you're giving me now."

"and what's it saying?"

if he took another step his chest would've encountered yours. he sunk his teeth into his bottom lip and forgot to come up with an answer. intoxicating, staring at you invigorated him.

he looked down at your pants.

the red lace was showing.

"you're dangerous."

the enticing shimmer that glistened in your eyes once he said that excited him. fingers of desire belonging to foreign hands danced across your chest.

"what happened to being talented?"

"every time you open your mouth you say something i wouldn't expect."

"look what i can do."

you hooked your finger at the edge of your mouth and pulled away fast then pop. if he hadn't watched you do it he would've mistaken the sound for a drop of water falling into a puddle.

"you're odd."

"talented."

"dangerous."

"waiting."