Ambition || Harry Styles

*37*

My head rushes as Harry drops my feet to the floor as soon as we reach the foot of my bed, the smile I missed is firmly planted on his gorgeous face and I take the opportunity to poke my finger into the dimple that makes me melt. 

Harry throws his head back in laughter and I can't help giggling at his amusement, his lips finding mine the instant he has composed himself enough, his smile still dancing on his cheeks.

"You better watch yourself, AP," he jokes, our bodies too close and our faces soon drop with the anticipation of what we are about to do.

Even if this is the end of the road for us, if nothing more happens after tonight, it has been worth it just to know that I could make him smile again after he has been so miserable.

It's still there, I can see it in his eyes; the sorrow, the guilt, the possible regret.

I imagine that he is usually in control of these situations, confident and arrogantly self-assured, but there is something hesitant in his actions and a pain that keeps flashing over his gorgeous face.

Heavy silence wades between us, my hands trembling with impatience and a drop of fear that he may walk away at any moment.

I reach up on my tiptoes to seal our lips together, his hands finding my hips before they creep around and lightly palm my behind, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"I need to tell you something, Lex," Harry whispers into my mouth but I'm too determined to hear.

"Harry, after. Please." I bargain, not wanting whatever he has to tell me to ruin this. 

My shaky fingertips find the hem of my university sweatshirt and I pull it over my head to reveal the flesh coloured, cotton bra on underneath.

My insecurities take over momentarily and I curse myself for not being one of those women who always wear black, lacy sets of lingerie in preparation for times like this.

I hear his breath hitch, his thoughts of confession seemingly dissipated and I swallow harshly, stepping forward to remove his t-shirt in the same way.

Harry's bare torso flexes slightly when he hastily undoes my jeans and grabs a fist of denim in each hand, pulling the material from my legs.

I stare up at the ceiling, mortified that I'm standing in front of such a gorgeous man with a matching set of nude cotton underwear on, thinking momentarily that Katie would kill me if she ever found out.

My heart thumps in my chest and I bite my lip with embarrassment. 

"Shit," I huff.

Harry understands quickly, his body pushing into mine as his strong arms circle my waist, his knees bending to meet my eye level and chagrin face.

"Do you understand how insanely cute you are?"

I pout a little in disappointment at myself for not preempting this moment better and the fact he called me "cute" while I'm practically naked. 

His skin on mine takes some of the embarrassment away but my reaction only makes Harry smile a little wider before biting his lip.

I look anywhere but at him, my emotions bubbling over as I mumble an almost silent, "I'm so fucking beige," my voice laced with self-hatred at my inability to keep it together long enough to play seductress for one fucking minute.

"What?" he questions but I shake my head and try to shovel the mountain of insecurities back into their tiny box.

His fingers guide my chin down and force me to look at him, my mind swirling with the story he told when we first met about the date he called "dull" but slept with anyway, worried I'm in for the same fate.