29. Chemicals

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And don't hate me for the terribly cliched T-Swift song. When 90% of her music was about Harry Styles... it was only fitting. 


The sun filled my room with afternoon light.

Harry's heavy arm lay over my waist, pinning me to his chest as we slept. I looked at the clock on the nightstand, it was nearly noon. Sighing, I began to weigh the pros and cons of staying in bed.

Pro: the sexiest man alive currently has his dick pressed against my ass.

The realization woke me entirely. Harry stirred and I felt it more firmly; huge and hard and... erotically unintentional as his steady breathing continued.

My heart began to race and I tried not to move, but he was in thin briefs and I just had a loose t-shirt on over my usual cheeky knickers. My body couldn't help but respond. I was letting my imagination run wild, envisioning all the ways he could show me what I'd been missing all this time. 

Last night had been everything. Tantalizing and charged and exciting...

and nakedly raw.

Was I ready to risk losing that now? 

Harry was beginning to have the power to break me. He had accepted me, given me his friendship and let me into his world. Unfortunately, I knew what the other side of that looked like. Rejection and heartbreak.

For what? An attraction?

More like a distraction, my annoying thoughts piped up.

Just then, Harry lifted his arm off my waist to scratch his head, waking himself up in the process.

"-fuck..." He whispered softly, rolling away from his position of big spoon. With him, the blanket lifted and sent a wave of cool air over me.

Not wanting him to be embarrassed, I decided to play innocent. Waiting a moment, I stretched my tired limbs, pretending to wake up and giving Harry time to adjust.

When I finally looked over at him, he was yawning, relaxed with his hands up behind his head and the blankets tucked to hide what I knew he was packin'.

"Morning." He said, his voice deep and slow. I couldn't take my eyes off his tattooed body as I lay facing him, keeping a modest distance.

"Hey, you." 

"How you feelin?" He side-eyed me, still sleepy. I was struggling to comprehend how someone could be so damn gorgeous first thing in the morning. 

"Much better, thank you." I replied cautiously, annoyed at his effect on me. I rolled onto my back, simply to keep myself from reaching out and touching each small tattoo on his body. Harry chuckled and rolled closer to me.

"Feeling shy?" He asked innocently, before his lip pulled back into a subtle, teasing smirk.

He knew what he was doing to me, and it made my heart pound. 

"No." I lied, "I've just... never seen so many tattoos." I finally admitted, feeling like a huge nerd.

"Oh... you can touch em if you want." He shrugged adorably.

I felt the blood rise to my cheeks. I wanted too, but it just seemed... personal. Besides, if I started touching him now, I might not be able to stop.

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