Infatuated (hsau)

Por stopcryingbabyy

486K 10.1K 9.1K

//MATURE THEMES AND EXPLICIT CONTENT// "Make sure she's okay when I'm gone will you Harry?" It was from that... Mais

intro, cast + warnings.
chapter 1.
chapter 2.
chapter 3.
chapter 4.
chapter 5.
chapter 6.
chapter 7.
chapter 8.
chapter 9.
chapter 10.
chapter 11.
chapter 12.
chapter 13.
chapter 14.
chapter 15.
chapter 16.
chapter 17.
chapter 18.
chapter 19.
chapter 20.
chapter 21.
chapter 22.
chapter 23.
chapter 24.
chapter 25.
chapter 26.
chapter 27.
chapter 28.
chapter 29.
chapter 30.
chapter 31.
chapter 32.
chapter 33.
chapter 35.
chapter 36.
chapter 37.
chapter 38.
chapter 39.
chapter 40.
chapter 41.
chapter 42.
chapter 43.
chapter 44.
chapter 45.
chapter 46.
chapter 47.
chapter 48.
chapter 49.
chapter 50.
chapter 51.
chapter 52.
chapter 53.
chapter 54.
chapter 55.
chapter 56.
chapter 57.
chapter 58.
chapter 59.
chapter 60.
chspter 61.
chapter 62.
chapter 63.
chapter 64.
chapter 65.
chapter 66.
chapter 67.
chapter 68.
chapter 69.
chapter 70.
chapter 71.
chapter 72.
chapter 73.
chapter 74.
chapter 75.
chapter 76.
chapter 77.
chapter 78.
chapter 79.
chapter 80.
chapter 81.
chapter 82.
chapter 83.
chapter 84.
chapter 85.
chapter 86.
epilogue part 1.
epilogue part 2.
i love you.
sequel/epilogue book.
new fic.
New fic?

chapter 34.

5.2K 122 111
Por stopcryingbabyy

°°
In an unusual place, when you're feeling far away
She does what the night does to the day
She's thunderstorms
°°

Harlow Dean

That might have been the strangest journey home from the club ever. Harry wouldn't stop talking and I told him to shut up because my favourite song came on but he said no and kept talking about The Great Gatsby.

Don't get me wrong I love The Great Gatsby but I'm more of a Pride and Prejudice and Little Women kinda person. There's also only a certain amount of times you can hear the names Daisy and Tom without growing sick of them.

I find it so interesting that he reads a lot of classics though, it's kinda wholesome considering he's this scary, gang leading man. You hear gang leader and stereotypically you picture this tattooed, tall, muscly, psycho guy who has drug issues and attitude problems.

That might be Harry but he's also this guy who plays guitar, sings, reads and has such an interesting background.

That's another thing, he told me he sings and I'm yet to hear him. He has good music taste, I remember when he criticised me for wearing that Rolling Stones t-shirt and that pissed me off. It still does because what the fuck? But at least I know he has good music taste.

That's still no excuse for singing through my favourite song the whole way home.

Willow greeted us as soon as we got in, however ignored me and went straight to Harry. Traitor. When he sat down on my couch she went to him too so I just gave up with even talking to her and went to make myself a coffee.

Your mother  just had a very hectic night, have some respect Willow.

"Harlow it's 2AM, you better not be having a cup of coffee." Harry warns, shifting his gaze from Willow to me for the first time since he stepped foot in my house.

Why does he sound like my mother?

"So it's the equivalent of 8PM in our time zone, cut me some slack." I shot back whilst pouring extra strong instant coffee into a cup. "You want one?"

And I have the cheek to wonder why I never sleep.

My mother created a mentally ill, caffeine addicted girl who often struggles with an identity crisis, doesn't know how to cope with anything, thinks she's incapable of love and then left her to figure things out. Surprise, surprise - I haven't figured anything out.

"No, I've had my fair share of drugs tonight. Caffeine is a drug Birdy." Harry tells me with that look somebody wears when they tell you something revolutionary.

Does he think I don't know that?

"Yes I know, but caffeine isn't nearly as deadly as the drugs you take. So stop judging me because I don't judge you." I sigh, tipping water into my cup.

I even poured some milk into my coffee tonight, don't say I'm not good to myself.

Harry's still talking to my cat like she's human, he didn't strike me as the cat type but I'd be lying if I said it wasn't the slightest bit cute. Mr tall, dark and handsome talking to a little grey cat in a baby voice like she's human, it's sweet.

I can't believe there's a man in my house right now. I can't believe Harry is in my house, talking to my cat and acting concerned about my caffeine intake. Is this what it's like to be normal and not afraid of the slightest thing?

Harry stands up and immediately Willow rushes over to me in the kitchen whilst Harry inspects my shelf full of records. He picked out a few, inspecting the back and front before slotting them back into their alphabetical ordered place on my shelf. Then there was 'Suck It And See' by the Arctic Monkeys that he seemed to take a lot of interest in. I don't know why because the cover is literally plain white but it's a great album, maybe that's why.

Then he took the actual record out and placed it down on my record player with a smile of satisfaction. I didn't know putting records on was such a universally satisfying thing, I thought I was weird but judging by Harry's face he's the same.

"This is art, my favourite album from this generation." He says while the beginning of 'She's Thunderstorms' starts playing.

Alex Turner's lyrics are so beautiful in Suck It and See, I don't blame him for his opinion at all. Alex Turner is just a beautiful man altogether though, he is a work of art. Never mind his lyrics.

Before I even have the chance to respond to Harry, he's taking the cup from my hands and placing it down on my kitchen counter. Then his hand falls into mine and he's pulling my into the middle of the kitchen with a little sway in his hips.

What the fuck is going on?

His hand meets my lower back and now we're standing like a pair of bloody ballroom dancers. I don't think I've ever looked or felt more confused in my life.

"I've been feeling foolish, you should try it" Harry sings in tune to the song, staring right at me as he starts slowly trying to spin us round. "Dance with me birdy."

Dance? I look like Bambi on ice when I dance so unfortunately I will not be dancing.

Mr scary gang leader just asked me to dance with him? What planet are we on?

"I don't dance Harry," I chuckle, to which Harry just shakes his head with a frown.

Instead of arguing like I'd expect him to, he brings the hand that holds my up above my hand and twirls me round in a circle. I could even help but smile at his little gesture, Harry's smile was also contributing to my own but with this song, Harry, my dimly lit kitchen and our stupid smiles, I'm struggling to believe I'm not dreaming.

So there we were, stood dancing in my kitchen whilst Suck It And See plays in the background. This is the type of thing to only happen in movies yet here I am, dancing hand in hand with the man I convinced myself I hated. This feels like one of those slow motion moments you see in films where the camera sound round the two main characters. Harry makes my life feel like a movie and I don't know how he does it, but I'm grateful.

This is the most romantic thing that's ever happened to me and it's not even a real relationship.

Each time he'd twirl me round and he'd catch me back in his arms with a smile sending shivers down my spine, the good kind of shivers. My mind couldn't wander anywhere other than the music and Harry, I liked it like that. I don't even feel like me, I feel free and some might call me stupid for feeling free but when manipulation and illness is all you've known, you're just so used to feeling trapped.

Being trapped inside my own thoughts, being trapped in someone else's world, being trapped with the person you can't escape, feeling trapped inside my own body. It's all I've ever known and this feeling I feel around Harry is so foreign to me. It's quite daunting but right now in this moment, it fills me with happiness and the anxiety has been flushed away.

Track through track Harry would sing every word and finally I was blessed with the sound of his actual singing voice. It's beautiful. The raspiness and then the gentleness of his voice has me absolutely stunned.

"What are we doing?" I chuckle, allowing my head to fall forward against his chest.

"Living." He quickly answers, looking me straight in the eye.

Living. I like that.

I do a lot of living, but spend very little time feeling alive.

Right now I feel alive, thanks to Harry.

"You're a good singer." I tell him with a smile.

My hands hooked around the back of his neck, his both holding my lower back as we carried on swaying away to the record I haven't played in months. Our faces are just inches apart despite the height difference and the strangest thing is - not one ounce of anxiety or worry seems to be apparent in my system.

"You're a good dancer," smirks Harry.

Good dancer my ass.

The smile I've been wearing since we got back here hasn't left my face one, neither has Harry's. I'm normally fully aware of when I'm smiling because it's normally fake, however I couldn't fake a smile right now if I tried, they're currently all natural.

Our faces soon fell into that serious expression though. With each fading smile the distance between us grew less and less until our lips met briefly for just a few seconds, however those few seconds seemed to feel like forever with the amount of fireworks they set off.

This doesn't even feel like real life, I mean our 'relationship' is fake but this feels like a fever dream. My arms draped around his neck, his round my lower back, a record of nothing but poetic love songs playing in the background, the fact I don't feel like shit and instead feel the most alive I've felt in a while.

Just hours ago I was face to face with my ex and having a minor panic attack, now I'm feeling like one of only two people in the whole world.

There was that brief moment of non-awkward awkward smiles that sent the butterflies inside me flying again, but then there was the moment our lips reconnected that had sparks flying left, right and centre.

Our lips interlocked in a much deeper kiss and Harry's tongue teased it's way into my mouth which had my heart rate rapidly increasing. With his strong hands, Harry pulled me flush against him and let out a breathy moan into my mouth the moment our fronts collided.

My hand crept it's way up into Harry's hair whilst the other slid down to hold the side of his face in this very heated kiss of ours. It felt like the temperature in the room was doubling by the second and each time I felt Harry's hand draw a line up my spine I felt as though I'd melt into a puddle right there in front of him.

Subconsciously I began to step back without breaking the kiss until my back met my kitchen counter and Harry had me pressed right up against it. I felt his cold rings and the contrast between his warm hands on my thigh before he lifted up my thigh to hook around his hips, bringing us closer together which didn't even seem possible until it happened.

When Harry's hips shifted forward slightly, his very prominent bulge grinding straight against my center I tugged slightly on the roots of his hair, earning one of the most seductive groans I've ever heard in my life.

Fucking hell.

Just when I thought this moment couldn't grow more heated than it already is, Harry picked up my other thigh, lifting me up onto the countertop without detaching his lips from mine once. My legs stayed wrapped around his waist tightly because the intensity of this entanglement is driving me absolutely fucking insane.

It was when my hips started moving on their own that Harry broke the kiss, dropping his head to rest in my shoulder whilst letting out a hoarse moan of his own.

"Fucking...Jesus fucking christ Harlow." He pants, the hot air from Harry's mouth against my shoulder sending shivers down my spine.

Yeah, I felt that.

"I don't wanna go too far with you Harlow, I - Jesus.. I want to take my time and-"

"What if I want to?" I interrupt, lifting his head from my shoulder so that he's looking straight at me.

I don't know what the fuck has come over me. Usually I'd be spiralling into another meltdown over the slightest touch from a man, yet here I am desperately waiting for Harry to throw another gallon of fuel over the fire which is already uncontrollably burning inside of me.

When I asked what we're doing and he answered with living, I did not expect to feel this alive at all. I feel absolutely crazy, crazily amazing which is fucking wild considering I'd have expected this to send me down a spiral of fear and anxiousness.

"No, Birdy we can't just jump straight in at the deep end." Harry responds through subtle gasps of air, his eyes pinching shut for a few seconds.

Where this courage has come from I don't know, but the tension in the room at heat between the two of us right now has me saying crazy things. Crazy things like "I know how to swim, I won't drown."

I'm getting far too brave for my own good.

"No, no I can't. I want to make you feel good first, this is about you birdy. It's all about you." He says through a swallow.

Jokes on you Harry, I hate being the centre of attention.

I think I'm definitely letting my vagina do all the thinking right now because I'd gladly let him fuck me right here on my kitchen counter, but I shouldn't. I'll get far too attached to him the minute we have sex and I'm too scared for what will come after that. I might be really fucking turned om right now, but I can't fuck him.

It would be self sabotage and I'm currently trying to do less of that.

"Can I make you feel good sweetheart? Show you what it's like to experience things with a real man?" He whispers, pressing his lips against my ear as the breath from his lips sent goosebumps over me.

Oh. My. God.

I nodded my head embarrassingly quickly in response to Harry's provocative question, I just couldn't help myself. At this point I'm practically begging for something, I'm going bloody crazy.

"Gonna need you to say yes or no my dear, nice and clear for me." Harry states as his hand behinds to slowly wander further and further up my thigh.

'My dear.'

Holy shit.

"Yes." I breathed out, swallowing the lump in my throat I can't seem to get rid of.

Then Harry smirks, looking down at me with an expression which could have me doing very wild things and leans his face back closer to my ear to whisper, "let's make you feel good then, precious."


°°
All I'm gonna say is...

remember Harry writes songs;)


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