From Harry: Out the front. You ready?
Funnily enough, I am ready. I know it was completely risky to allow Harry to pick me up from the infamous 'shit shack', but as we all know, it looks semi nice from the outside – that's how I ended up here in the first place. God, that feels like ages ago. Plus, Harry straight up said "no" when I said I would simply get an Uber.
Secretly I'm happy he offered, I mean this is his friend's party, who knows how big it will be, and I'm basically guaranteed to not know anyone at all. It's best I go with him so I can enter the place not as awkwardly as I would if I were alone.
I'll still be awkward though.
But here's what I haven't thought about:
Who's Harry's mate?
Will it be one of his really close friends? One of his famous friends? One of his family friends?
Will it be Niall, Louis, or Liam?
There are so many different names running through my head that I almost start to forget that Harry's waiting. Downstairs.
I quickly grab my jacket and purse, heading out the door without another thought. No time to waste.
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Not wanting to hop into a random person's car again, I'm extremely cautious when looking for Harry's car. There are only a few cars out the front anyway, and one of them is a black, fancy looking one, so I figure that's him in there.
As if we're in a classic film, the back door flings open and I jump in feeling quite posh, if I must say. Luckily, there sits Harry. Unluckily, I'm struggling to breathe because he just looks so good...
There they are, the infamous black skinny jeans. I wonder how many pairs of them he has? Surely hundreds. He's got on some Gucci boots, and an amazingly beautiful black and yellow stripy jumper. I'm telling you right now, yellow has never looked this good on anyone.
He also has a bit more facial hair than when I saw him last. God, I wonder what it would be like to kiss him with stubble like that...
Focus! Miller, stop being an idiot and say hello to the sex god!
"Hey, thanks for picking me up," I finally squeak. I'm still not fully recovered from how stunning he looks. "I really like your jumper," I add hastily, then regret it. Why the fuck did I say that? I'm so stupid.
He does this little giggle whilst scratching his chin, "Hey, Miller. Thanks! It's new. You look, um, amazing, also." He scans me up and down, which would usually make me super uncomfortable, but with Harry it makes me feel like I'm on fire. Like I want him to touch me again. Now, would be great.
"Thanks, Harry," I cough slightly, and once again my cheeks are rosy as fuck. You could literally fry an egg on one of my cheeks right now. The car starts driving as I click in my seatbelt. "So are you going to tell me what this whole thing actually is? What kind of party is it?"
"There are actually supposed to be quite a few people there, I think. It's just at my mate's apartment, we're actually not far from there now." He cranes his neck to look out the window.
"How old's he turning?" I ask, trying to make conversation to distract myself from his insanely red lips. It's dark in this car, but I can still make them out. And I would love to 'make out' with them.
Oh god, I make myself laugh. It's sad.
"The big 22! I'm actually not that close with him really, I'm not sure how many people I'll know there to be honest. We're, um, new friends, I guess. We're working on a kind of project together."
Him saying that bit about not knowing many people makes me feel a bit at ease because I obviously won't know anyone, so at least we'll be in the same boat.
Wait, did I actually just think that? This is Harry Styles, we're talking about here. People will know him, and talk to him. And I can't imagine him having any trouble making conversation with randoms.
That's a major part of his job.
Oh well, I can make new friends too. It's all about optimism.
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The car pulls up to a semi nice apartment block and I can hear a faint thumping of music coming from around the back. There are a few people hanging out around the front, but overall it seems pretty discreet.
"Here you are, Miss Jacobs, Mr Styles," the driver says from the front as we stop.
"Thank you very much," I say, as Harry also says his thanks.
We get out of the car, and I can feel Harry's hand on the lower part of my back which automatically breaks my skin out in goose bumps. It's just all too much.
"Fuck, it's freezing," Harry exclaims, hugging me a little bit closer, and I almost die at that, once again squeaking in response. I silently tell myself that I won't get drunk tonight, as much as I would like to, it's just never a good idea.
Plus, I don't want to make a fool out of myself. Lets be honest, I'll do that with or without alcohol, but still.
"I wonder what song it is that they're playing," I say aloud, trying to get my ears to perk up as much as possible. I can hear the faint sound of the bass.
"Oh, that's 100% 'The Chain', by Fleetwood Mac," Harry says, without a second thought.
I try to listen in again. "Really? Do you have supernatural ears or something? The only thing I can hear is the bass!"
"How about we go inside so we can know for sure?" He smirks and I roll my eyes.
So, we head up the stairs and into the hustle and bustle of the party. It's quite a small apartment so it's pretty packed, but it's completely to my taste, interior decoration wise. This, thankfully, doesn't seem to be one of those rager parties where people are going absolutely mental. People are definitely buzzed, but then again, it's only almost 10. Who knows what will happen.
I look over at Harry, who seems generally comfortable, although a little cautious. Apparently he hasn't seen anyone he knows yet. Nor the host.
"Shall we get some drinks?" He licks his lips, then looks towards me.
I nod, not bothering to reply because it's so loud. And yes, Harry was right in saying that 'The Chain' is playing. It's very much playing. If the rest of the music tonight is this top notch I'll be on the floor within the hour.
Using his height to his advantage, Harry looks over the crowd, assumedly in search of some kind of drinks station. Once something has caught his eye, he grabs my hand softly – fuck – and leads me through the people.
People have definitely noticed Harry, I mean, who wouldn't, even if he wasn't so well known? But nobody is making a fuss about him. I'm thankful for this and I'm sure he is too.
Once we reach the drinks table, I spot an open bottle of pinot and decide to just go for that. I look at Harry in question, and he nods, holding out two glasses for me to pour it into.
"Harry!" A male voice shouts. I look through the mob of people to the person who just spoke. "So glad you came." He's kind of a medium height, very blonde hair – natural, it looks like. What strikes me first are his eyes, they're so, so blue. He's wearing a simple outfit, though it's very stylish...and...he's got an earring in. Surprisingly, it works. His eyes flick to mine, but then straight back to Harry's.
"GC! Great to see you, buddy. Long time no see, eh?" Harry ushers us over to the man, GC, I'm assuming. I know I have never seen him before. I wonder if he's the host?
They embrace for quite a while, and then Harry turns to me. "This is my friend, Miller. Miller, this is Tom! The birthday boy!"
I put my hand out for him to shake, but he ignores it, instead pulling me in for a sloppy hug. Someone's having a good night. "Hey, great to meet you Miller! Call me GC! Although it's not my birthday for another month or so, oops! Thanks for coming, make yourselves at home," he says to the both of us, and wanders off.
"What does GC mean?" I ask Harry, but he shakes his head as if he can't hear me, so I lean in towards his ear and repeat what I said. Jesus, his hair is freshly washed and smells like bloody mangoes. Why.
"Oh! The initials of his last name. His name is Tom Glynn Carney." He takes a big swig of his drink that takes me by surprise. I think he can tell that I'm shocked because he smiles and says, "what? I'm letting loose tonight."
"Do you ever not let loose?" I laugh.
"It may come as a surprise to you, but I'm usually sober as a goat. I think it may be you who's making me like this!"
"Are you saying I'm a bad influence on you...?" I try to sound seductive as I ask this, and I think it may have worked because Harry's eyes darken a little bit, and mine probably have too. Why are we both so horny all the time.
"You're definitely a bad influence on me..." He comes a few centimetres closer, placing his hand oh so delicately under my baggy jacket and onto the lowest part of my hip. I feel myself involuntarily shudder; his gaze is so intense. For some reason, the fact that this intimate moment is taking place around all these unfazed people makes the whole situation even more of a turn on. I can't believe we're both practically sober at this point.
He – very subtly, not bringing any attention to us – brushes his hand over my breast, gasping at the realisation that there's nothing underneath my top.
"You're not wearing a bra?" He asks hesitantly, and this time it's his turn to squeak. Well, his version of a squeak. I don't answer him, so he groans softly. "I want you so much," he whispers.
As much as I'm enjoying this exchange, it's a lot more intimidating than when we were at his house a few days ago, because firstly, we're around many people, and secondly, we were drunk the other day and I'm definitely not now. It's almost foreign territory.
"Me too," I whisper in his ear, and at this, he nudges his groin into me so I can feel the effects this heated conversation has had on him.
"Do you...want to leave...?" Harry brushes his hand along my jaw and through my hair, as if he's teasing me. And yes. Yes, I want to leave. Of course I do. If it entails what I think it will. If it entails anything.
So, in response, I nod, deciding that I will lead him out.
But I'm stopped in my tracks. Because a mere six metres away, stands none other than Alexa fucking Chung. Probably one of my biggest girl crushes. She's conversing with somebody, but because Harry and I have stopped and we're just staring at her for what seems like forever, she looks over.
"Harry! And...friend? Have we met?" She smiles brightly at the two of us, and immediately Harry goes and hugs her. He seems to be just as surprised as I am.
"Alexa! What the bloody hell are you doing here," Harry laughs, holding her tight. "This is Miller, my good friend."
Wow. That's an improvement. From 'friend' to 'good friend'. I'm thoroughly enjoying this.
"So lovely to meet you, Miller. So, are you a groupie?" Alexa smiles mischievously and at first I'm taken aback by her question, but I have watched enough interviews with her to know she's only joking. Her sense of humour is literally above all.
"You bet," I laugh it off, probably blushing slightly though.
"Well I'm impressed," Alexa says, her eyes crinkling. "You've got yourself a catch, Styles."
"We're just friends," I blurt, looking at Harry for a second to see his reaction. He's smiling curiously at me. The darkness in his eyes is long gone.
I don't know if it's a blessing or a curse that Alexa is here tonight.
All I know is:
I'm still built up with no release.
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Ok so I just wrote this super quickly and I'm really scared because I'm babysitting for a friend and it's quite late and there are really strange noises, it literally sounds like someone is trying to break in so.....yeah. RIP me. I may die tonight.
Hope you liked it!!! Went in a completely different direction to what I thought it would but I actually like it. Damn, Alexa Chung AKA cock block ugh!!!!!
Please vote and comment legends!!!!