CEO // Harry Styles

26

I FEEL AS THOUGH THIS STORY IS SHIT. I MAY QUIT IT OR DELETE IT? THOUGHTS?

THOUGHTS??

PLEASE COMMENT AND VOTE

(OH AND ALSO PLEASE READ COLOR! ADD IT TO YOUR LIBRARIES AND VOTE AND COMMENT!)

I don't know when my infatuation with Harry began.

I think it was gradual. I have no explanation. They say women are attracted to men without remorse. Well, I guess that's the only way to put it.
So that explains why I found myself sitting on Harry Styles' doorstep, waiting for him earlier tonight.

Lou opened the door for me, Harry was no where to be seen. In fact, he had only shown his face a short while ago, leading me to the library.

"Emily Brontë?" He asks, peering at the novel I had brought, ready to return. I think back to the time when he gave me the book.

"Yes. She's brilliant." I beam. He smiles back, and again I'm engulfed in the curve of his lips.

"You're very pretty." I blurt. He stones.

"Am I?" He's bemused. I'm not sure why.

The glare I receive is unnecessary and revolting, but somehow captivating. Two characteristics only Harry Styles could pull off.

"You are staring, Adelaide."

"My apologizes, Mr. Styles."

He sucks in a breath. "What have I told you?"

I ignore his comment about calling him by his last name.

"Clearly not enough. Tell me about yourself." I decide to take a strange approach to a conversation.

If he doesn't want to talk to me, I will not get the memo.

"Why would you ask such a question?"

"I feel I know nothing about you." I answer. I put my hands in my lap. This chair is as comfortable as it was the last time I sat in it.

Harry Styles' possessions are lavish, and always upholstered in the most beautiful fabrics.

"This is not some story book of which you read where the antagonist hears how doubtful he is of the heroine and he tells the stories of his broken life. Nothing of the sorts is involved in this case."

"I wouldn't guess so by your Saint Laurent suit." I muse softly. His eyebrows raise.

He hums, and the subtle sound is soothing.

"I have been rude." He tells me.

"How so?"

"I have not asked about yourself in a cliche manner. How are you?"

"Well." I drum my fingers along the wooden arm of the chair I'm sitting in. I stare at him.

I soak his beauty in. Through his green eyes hold secrets of a young boy. He is merely 24 years old.

Prior to meeting him myself, I believe I've heard his name once in the press. I now recall him being coupled with famous models and celebrities.

This occasion though, was when he was screwing Kendall Jenner.

After the wedding I googled him. Sitting in Niall's car, on a long long car ride, I had nothing better to occupy my time.

Pictures printed on my screen rarely featured other males. When they did, it was men with odd names. Oddly Niall was in a few. I laughed at those. I showed them to him, and he raised an accusing brow seeing my search history.

The God Zayn Malik was pictured with a smirk. Harry never smiled in pictures. You'd be lucky if you got a smirk.

Louis something, Liam Parker, and someone that started with a J were all photographed at different events with my own sex God.

Ed Sheeran was one I can remember clearly. Fiery ginger locks are hard to forget. So is the name. I remember seeing him in concert over a year ago. Shitty seats and shitty beer was the way to go when me and Louis partied. We just found the flat we rent now.

Taylor Swift and him sang a song at the show. Taylor Swift. Another face pictured with the man I sit next to now.

Kendall Jenner, Cara Delevingne are among others. He really did get around. But lately the press has died down. I wonder if they were just rumors.

A phone buzzing startles me. "Simon?" His voice is deep, husky and alluring. Sure to slay your lady parts in moments.

"Yes, yes. She's here. Yeah, okay." He snaps.

He seems irritated. He catches my gaze. A smile is sent my way, and I melt.

He's a real pretty sight.

"Would you like to accompany me for dinner?" I didn't realize he was off the phone.

My stomach rumbles. He doesn't laugh, "Let's go." He smiles a small smile.