GOD'S KILLER | harry styles

𝟮𝟮 - 𝗡𝗮𝘁𝗮𝗹𝗶𝗲 | 𝗙𝗼𝗿𝗴𝗶𝘃𝗲𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀

Again, the quickie had been a mistake, and I was still sure Harry thought like I did, what the hell was all of this supposed to mean? It made zero sense at all, unless Harry was just wanting to fight someone. From what I knew, which was barely a notch, he wasn't the fighter kind of person. What the fuck?

I needed to solve the whirlwind on my mind before anything else happened, so I found the necessary strength to stand up. I hadn't had any cramps for the past hour, which I was grateful for, but I knew it wouldn't last long.

I placed my hand on my lower stomach and practically limped all the way to the bathroom, closing the door behind me. I looked like shit, my hair was messy and my eyes were slightly bloodshot from all the crying.

So I washed my face with cold water and brushed my teeth, fixing my hair later on. At least now I looked more presentable, even though I still noticed tiny things that looked awful. I was in a terrible state at the moment.

I hated that it felt like a whole week had gone by, but I had had my period for only three hours. I hated woman nature.

I opened the door once more and left the bathroom hastily. A big frame bumped into me, or well, I bumped into a big frame. And of course that had to be Harry, looking at me with tired eyes and tousled curls.

The cut on his cheek was clean and it looked good, since it was only a scratch, though the area around the injury was a light shade of pink. I hadn't hit him with all of my strength because I couldn't, so there was no serious damage, but my rings did all the work my fist didn't.

He looked down at me, and I had to tilt my head upwards to meet his eyes. Some strands of hair fell on his face and he looked really cute, as if he had just woken up from a long nap. Honestly, I had no idea what he had been doing for the past sixty minutes.

Harry wasn't wearing a shirt, just a pair of gray sweatpants. A cross pendant hung on his neck and I wondered if he was religious, we had never talked about anything remote to that topic. He looked so fucking good, I was waiting for him to pin me against the wall and kiss me. That wouldn't happen, obviously, but I was taking all of the chances.

There wasn't any expressions on his face though, just a tad of weariness and emaciation. I had no idea what to say next, because the situation was way too awkward and being only in my panties wasn't helping.

He looked like he had cried, but I wasn't sure if it was exactly crying because his eyes weren't bloodshot. I could tell he was tired, he had been literally serving me for the past four hours.

None of us had said a word for the past seconds, so I figured it was moment to end things, "Can we talk?"

Harry scanned my face, giving my lips a specific amount of time after he flicked his eyes between my two own. This was the first time I was feeling overawed under someone's gaze, but the forest green of his irises was way too powerful.

"Alright," He answered back simply, taking a step backwards and crossing his arms.

The way his biceps flexed made me wonder if he had done that on purpose, because my gaze shamelessly dropped to his muscles for a split second before going back to his face. There was a cute pout on his lips and his eyebrows were furrowed, making the two crevices in between them more prominent.

"I'm so sorry, Harry, I lost control." I gave up on my morality and just went with it, seeing as his eyes never moved from mine and his face didn't give away a flash of expression.

I was feeling nervous about my apology. I didn't know if it was good enough, I didn't even know if Harry was actually upset. Well, it was the most probable option, but I still couldn't decipher his cryptical expression.