Harry Styles
We raced back to my house.
Truthfully, I didn't have the expectation that our date was gonna end in sex, but she wants it. And I always want it, so why the hell not?
My hand on her thigh and the wind blowing in her hair as the night falls, I pull into the driveway.
I get out first, planning on going to open her door for her but she beats me to it. She climbs out of the car and smiles at me.
I'm nervous, but not because of the sex.
I haven't known Elaina for long, but I truly feel like she knows me better than anyone—in a deeper way. She makes me feel seen. When I see her, I feel lighter, and I can only hope I make her feel the same.
I've only been in one relationship, and it ended in disaster and heartbreak. But here's the thing...Elaina isn't like that. She knows what that heartache feels like when someone you're with betrays you.
And maybe I'm thinking irrationally, but this has been on my mind since that night we went to the diner in Arizona.
I want to ask her to be my girlfriend.
I realize the risks that come with it. But we don't have to tell anyone, not for a while anyway. It can just be our thing. If no one knows, then there's less of a chance of enemies using her against me.
I'll keep her safe. I swore to myself that I would a little while ago, when I realized she wasn't who I thought she was.
I think I'm more nervous about what having a girlfriend would be like than her saying no. She can say no and I'll be okay. She's fresh out of an engagement, she's healing from things. I know she likes me, so if she's not ready for a relationship, then that's okay with me.
When we get inside, she follows me into the kitchen. I go over to the liquor cabinet while she traces her fingertips along the top of the island.
"Can I make you a drink?" I ask, looking over my shoulder at her. She nods.
I get flashbacks to the first time she was here, when she stayed here for those few days and we hated each other.
"Remember when I cleaned the cut on your forehead on that couch?" she says, looking off into the living room.
Looks like she's reminiscing as well.
"I do." I say, setting two glasses on the counter. "Remember when you made me breakfast in this kitchen?"
"And you swore I was trying to poison you." she adds in with a laugh.
I laugh as well, "Yeah well I couldn't blame you if you did." I say. "I guess I was sort of a dick." I finish up her drink and slide it across the island to her.
She hums another small chuckle, grabbing the glass. "Well I'm glad I didn't." she remarks, giving me a small smile.
I try not to blush over the fact that the girl I like just told me she's glad she didn't poison me back when she hated my guts.
She looks down at her drunk. "I have to tell you something." she says, peering back up at me.
I sip from my glass and lean against the island, tilting my head. "Sure." I say, wanting her to elaborate.
"The first night that I stayed here," she says, "I got up in the middle of the night and..." she hesitates, "I snooped around a little."
I furrow my brows, setting my glass down. My mind immediately faces to the worst case scenario, thinking about what she could have possibly found. Maybe I had something out in the open? I don't think I did.
"Okay..." I give her a puzzled look.
"I went into your library. And I know I probably shouldn't have because it just doesn't seem like a room that you share with people—"
My body immediately freezes. I try to hide any reaction, but I wasn't expecting her to tell me this at all. She's right, I've never had anyone else in that room before. I hardly go in it anymore—I need to prepare myself for it.
"You went in there?" I say.
She nods, biting her lip like she feels guilty. "I-I did."
I think she believes that she did a bad thing by going in there.
"I'm sorry...I know it was a privacy invasion and I—"
"Wanna see it again?" I cut her off.
Her brows raise like she wasn't expecting me to say it. Her lips part in surprise and she just starts to nod. "Uh, sure. Yes."
I smirk, grabbing my drink. "Come on then."
No part of me was upset with her for going in there. I was caught off guard more than anything. It's been weeks since I've spent more than a few moments in that library.
That room has a lot of deep rooted memories. Not the room itself but the things within it. I don't know what emotions I'll feel when I walk in, but it's something that I think I want to experience with her.
We walk side by side to the staircase. My stomach fills with nerves as we get closer up the stairs. I'd like to think that there won't be any judgment from her about why I've built this library, but it's been a long time since I've allowed myself to be fully vulnerable with anyone. You really can never be too careful.
I stop in front of the long red curtains which have shut this room away. I swallow, the drink in my hand gripped for leverage. I don't let myself stop for long, my other hand feeling like leather while pulling back the silk to reveal the inside.
There it is. My library, untouched and isolated and dark. I bite my cheek as I step aside for Elaina to enter, which she does.
Immediately, it's like she's admiring the inner workings. She takes slow steps, walking over to the desk and flicking on the lamp. Now, the room is illuminated by only the warm lamplight and the rising moon shining through the windows.
I follow her in.
She sets her drink down on the desk, running her fingertips along the hardwood. The desk is clearly used up, with dents and scratches.
"Is this yours?" she asks, her back to me as she examines the object. My stomach is tense.
"Kind of." I say, making her turn around. "I guess it's more of a hand-me-down."
Her brows raise a little. "Your mother's." she seems to answer her own inquires.
She knows me well enough to realize that I wouldn't take anything that belonged to my father.
I give her a small nod. "Mom had her own room in our house that was devoted to writing and literature."
With parted lips, she gazes around her at all of the shelves, like she's walking through a gallery.
"All these books..."
"They were hers." I answer. "She read every single one."
She looks back at the books, astounded. "Wow." she whispers in awe. I get it. I was in awe of my mom too. She was an amazing person.
Elaina steps along the bookshelves, reading some of the lettering on the spines. "Why'd you keep all of this?"
I start to follow her, ending up behind her by a few feet. "I guess all of it is like my own memoir for her...a way of remembering."
She stops and turns to face me, a slightly saddened look on her face. "I can't even look at my mom's drawings. The memory feels like it's too much to bare..."
"Well, your memory is much fresher. But I get it, I can't bring myself to step foot in this library sometimes...and I've never had another person in here." I admit.
She breathes out through her nose unevenly. She's trying not to get emotional.
"Do you ever wish you could find out who killed her?" she asks the blunt question.
"I wonder every day." I answer it truthfully.
My mother had no enemies. There was no one who would be seeking revenge against her—not that I know of. She was killed out of cold blood, but by who, I don't know.
"Everyone sort of assumed that it was a random homicide. They never caught anyone, and the case went unsolved." I say quietly, memories of all of it flooding back.
I was just a kid. A kid who found his mother's body. A kid sitting in a police station with his best friend until his father—his only reachable relative— could come get him.
Niall was with me when I discovered my mom. And as much as he was there for me, she was a mother to him as well. I know he's traumatized by it too.
We don't talk about it.
"She deserves justice." Elaina speaks. "So do you."
'So do you.' ... the words send a chill up my spine...a chill of the inescapable.
"I don't." I shake my head. This causes Elaina's brows to furrow.
"Of course you do. What do you mean?"
"I've done really, really bad things, El." I say. "Things that can't really be justified."
Her lips part and she takes a step toward me. "I don't believe that."
"I get that you've gotten to know me, and we've grown a bond...and I'm so happy about it. But, I—"
"I know you've committed crimes." she says. "It's your job, and I was scared at first but that was before I got close to you. It's your job, it's not like you're out murdering innocent people."
She doesn't understand.
I look down, picking at my nail beds.
"Unless...you are?" she speaks with nervousness, like she knows deep down that I'm not doing that but she's scared that I might tell her differently.
"I'm not. That's not what—"
"Okay, so let me be at terms with that and see you as your own person."
"Elaina, you don't get it." I shake my head, still looking at my fingers.
"What aren't I getting?" she urges, crossing her arms, becoming slightly defensive. I get she's frustrated, frustrated that I keep insisting.
And I'm frustrated that I can't fully express it to her, and that she could have this false idea of me that will end up getting her hurt.
I'm silent for a moment, looking at her face now and sighing.
There is so much that I wanna say.
"I-I can't say it." I just shake my head again.
When I expect her to recoil or try to get away, she just urges again. "Say it."
"I can't."
She throws her arms up in aggravation. "Fuck sakes, Harry."
"You just—fuck. You can't think I'm a good person!" my voice raises as the conversation escalates. "No matter how you wanna paint me, Im not a fucking good person. I cant let you get this image of me, because you're gonna be wrong about it, and you're gonna be hurt."
She seems slightly stunned, but in this moment, she's too stubborn to show it fully.
"What is this?" she scoffs. "I mean, w-what is this, what are you doing? Do you want me to be afraid of you again?"
Again.
"No. But fear does protect people..."
This flips a switch. I've seen Elaina upset, but not angry. However, I can tell I've made her angry now. She shakes her head with this maddened smile and turns to walk away while cursing me out.
"Jesus fucking Christ. I'm not doing this." she turns to head out, nearly walking past the couches in the library. "I'm not doing this with you, listening to you try to change my mind—"
"Jesus, El. Stop." I go after her. I immediately grab her arm and pull her back, which she tries to fight but I'm stronger. I feel her tug and it makes me stumble until we end up on the couch.
"Don't Harry!"
I use her position to my advantage. As she's shouting at me and trying to push me away by my chest with both hands, I grab onto each of her wrists and push her down onto her back on the couch, her wrists pinned now by her head, me hovering on top of her. She breathes heavy, looking at me with anger, teeth clenched behind her lips.
"Stop." I repeat, wanting her to cool down.
She continues breathing, looking deeply into my eyes with a glare. Suddenly, I see the way she used to look at me, but now her frustration with me is coming from somewhere else. It's not hatred anymore, it's almost the opposite...channeled by the sensitivity she feels and the heated argument we were in.
"Do you want to hurt me?" she questions, voice stern. "It was different then, but now. Do you look at me now and have to push down the urge to harm me?"
I shake my head immediately. "No. I'd never hurt you."
"Then let me have that." her voice drops quieter.
"Fine."
"Do you want me to leave? Is that what this is?" she questions again. I can tell she's still ticked.
"If I wanted you to leave then I wouldn't be pinning you down to my couch by your wrists." I answer.
She raises a brow. "Really? Because a moment ago it felt like you were practically pushing me out the door with that conversation."
"I want you to stay." I nearly cut her off with how quickly and sternly I say it.
She huffs and averts her eyes to the side. "I don't know if I believe you."
She's cracking.
I examine her face and realize that I'll have to prove the fact that I want her here. In a quick snap of judgment, I bring my lips down to her tilted jaw. I lay a gentle kiss to her bone, trailing down her neck and to her collar.
"I'm sorry." I whisper. "Stay." I kiss again.
I feel her body shift beneath me. She's trying to stay strong willed but like I said, she's cracking.
I trail slowly back up to right under her ear and jawbone, kissing softly.
"Stay with me." I whisper against her soft skin.
I hear her breathe out, feeling the veins in her wrists bulge as she clenches her fists.
I smirk against her neck, not making it obvious. I'll play the part of the needy guy...anything to lure her in.
I let go of one wrist, but am quick to gather it into my other hand. Both of her wrists are now being held by my one hand while my free hand explores her body over the material of her dress. Her pastel green dress and her fiery red hair make her look like the prettiest rose I've ever seen.
I let my hands roam over her dress, over her hip, and down to her bare thigh. She moves her leg slightly, my palm sliding down the smoothness of the skin. "Stay with me..." I whisper again.
I eventually lift my head so I can see her. She meets my gaze, and falls back into a glare. She's a tough one, but it makes this so much more entertaining.
Restrained by my hand, she breathes out through her nose as I trace the hem of her underwear. I know that I could probably let go of her, but where's the fun in that?
"I'm still pissed at you." she murmurs.
I smile. "That's okay."
She groans at my calmness. I think she wants a reaction out of me and she just won't get it. My hand moves her underwear to the side so my fingers can feel her.
My plan from before still stands. But first, I'm gonna fuck with her. Then, I'll ask the question that's been burning in my mind for days.
My fingers trace up and down, not arriving to the place that she needs me most right away. I'm savouring this moment, the moment where I have her right where I want her. Once I ask her the question, everything is in her hands.
I can feel her become more and more aroused, her legs shifting to find a position of comfort. When I know that she's at a point of needing to be stimulated, I finally let her feel it. My fingers meet her nerves and her stomach tenses up, her bottom lip between her teeth now.
I kiss her neck, her collarbones, her chest. I could make a list of the things I liked about every part of her body. Her skin is soft, her arms were comforting, her hands were caring. I only see beauty and light when I see her, despite the darkness she feels.
And I just want all of it.
I lift my head and meet eyes with her, my fingers causing her to fall apart. I can tell that she wants to remain prideful but I can see a softness in her eyes now, a softness that made me feel warm.
"Can I kiss you?" I ask. I would just go for it, but I know she was mad at me, so I didn't want to just spring it on her.
She nods without any hesitation, and I feel instantly relieved. I tilt my head slightly and go in, pressing my lips to hers for a moment before moving into a gliding motion. She kisses me back with passion, her tongue in my mouth as she takes the initiative of deepening the kiss.
I start feeling more and more confident in my question. I just have to wait for the right moment.
I push two of my fingers inside of her, feeling her muscles tighten around me as she moans into my lips. I moan back, loving the feeling and sounds of her pleasure. She's wet, she's enthralled by my touch and I'm enjoying every second of it. Slowly, I let go of her wrists, knowing in the back of my head that I don't want to be holding her down when I ask her.
Her free hands wrap around me, one of them gravitating to my hair and the other going under my shirt to cling onto the skin on my back.
She pulls away from the kiss to breathe, she inhales sharply through her teeth as her legs shake. Our foreheads rest against each other's in a moment of tender closeness.
The time is right now.
"Elaina..." I say, a tightness in my stomach.
"Yes?" she breathes out, close to finishing.
I want to be more than this. I want her all of the time. She's like a craving that's never satisfied, not until I know she's with me. She's special to me. I want to show her that she's cherished.
It took me a while to realize, but I have never felt this way about anybody.
"Do you want me to stay?" I ask in a whisper.
Through her heavy breathing she looks at me. "Here?"
"With you." I clarify, my anxiety rising.
It wasn't bad anxiety, not the kind where you spiral into panic. It was more like butterflies.
Her sweaty brows crease together as she examines my face, her lips parted.
"I do." she licks her lips with a nod. "I do. I'm sorry for getting upset—"
"Don't be sorry. But that's not what I mean..."
I keep moving my fingers.
"W-what do you mean...?" she asks, but for a moment I can see that she might be catching on—a glimmer in her blue eyes and the shift in her breathing.
I move my head and start to lay kisses down her chest, my fingers inside of her and my thumb against her clit. I'm prolonging it because I want her to feel good. She moans out loud, her head back against the couch cushion.
"I want you to be with me." I say, her eyes snapping to me again as she tries to process what I said as well as the feeling of my fingers.
Her chest moves up and down, like electricity is shockwaving through her veins.
"Are...are you—"
I nod, confirming her thoughts. "I'm asking you to be my girlfriend, El."
The question is out there. There's no going back.
Through her glistening skin and her heavy breathing, she smiles. It's a genuine, happy smile, her teeth glowing and her dimples carved deeply into her cheeks. She lets out a small laugh, using her last bit of energy to grab my face and kiss me. I can feel her happiness through the kiss, her lips still grinning against mine.
"Yes." she gleams. "Fuck yes."
Relief.
It was like the warmest, comfiest blanket was thrown over my body. I let out a relieved laugh, now just as smiley as her.
At the same time, I feel her legs close around my hand, a moan coming from the back of her throat as her nails dig gently into my back. She separates the kiss to let out a small gasp while she comes to her climax. I kiss her cheek and her jaw to comfort her as the feeling rips through her.
And then it's over, her sweaty body beneath me, but her smile is so evident.
When the tension is cleared, and she's come down from her high, I just look at her with a soft grin on my face.
She does the same, looking back and forth at my eyes. She looks so happy, and all I can feel is fluttery feeling.
I rub circles over her hip with my thumb while my other hand tucks her hair behind her ear. I'm just admiring her, admiring the fact that I'm hers.
"Were you planning that all night?" she asks.
I chuckle. "In some shape or form, yeah." I respond.
One of her hands comes up to my cheek, her thumb stroking my cheekbone gently. She takes a moment before speaking, a sparkle in her eye.
"I'm happy." she says softly.
For the first time in a long time, my happiness wasn't simply because she was happy. I used to feed off of her, but right here in this moment, I guess I can tell that I'm happy because I was going through a happy moment.
"I am too." I answer.
She grins and I just take it in. This girl who I've been trying to win over, I'm finally able to call my girlfriend.
"Do we tell the others?" she questions.
"Do you think we need to?"
She chuckles and just shakes her head. "Not really."
I smile in return, "Perfect." I say right before leaning in to kiss her.
//
WARRRR IS OVERRRRRR
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