puhlease dont point out mistake, i need to reread it and i love you guys. enjoy you beautiful twats. :)
"Iris, putting you in charge is not an advantage against your sister, got it?" My mom warns my sister. She gives her a simple nod and a smirk at me.
"And you obey your sister." My mother points at me, her attitude never changing. Why can't she accept the fact that we are grownups now, mature enough to live in a house without them? They're absence will probably go unnoticed and time would fly, they are hardly home anyway.
My father is already settled in his car while we follow my mother down the stairs. I carelessly slept on the couch near the window and woke up with a strained neck and back. Every movement is filled with pain reminding me of my little mistake. I'm completely unable to even look down or turn without any kind of pain.
My mom talks to Mrs. Barton then, explain something I have least interest in. After saying good byes to the parents, Iris grins in my direction.
"What?"
"Let’s call Gemma and Harry."
"Why?"
"A mini party." She chuckles at her own words.
"How about just Gemma?" I advise. "I'm sure Harry has nothing to do here." She hops on the couch, kicking her shoes off. I search my pockets for my phone.
"Nah, I kinda like that guy." She shrugs. "Like he's funny and all." Of course you do now. Of course!
As much as I didn't want to see him, I didn't want to go near him or even let thoughts about him cross my mind. He is someone I have the urge to see, I have this desire to go near him, to let him watch me although it gets under my skin, but it's so foreign, so good. This is cliché, this is cheesy, this is everything you're sick of reading in novels and watching on movies but all in all, it's the truth. You feel all that and that is the only way you are taught to explain these feeling in this society. You just need to discover another way.
-
"Back to the topic. Seriously!" My friend Savannah giggles. "Are you taking Latin next summer?"
"I can't seem to make my mind up. What about you?"
"Eh, I'm not even sure if I'll be in town by then." She reminds me of her departure. Savvy is my classmate from Latin class. We dropped out of the classes after attending a month course, it was getting tougher gradually and those were only the basics. Now she wants to get in again but we're too late for registration. I get to decide on whether to give my luck next semester. She won't really be around then I see not so many advantages in doing so.
"My parents won't be home for a few." I stand by the window, my gaze pausing on a familiar black vehicle. "Let’s party."
"Tomorrow?" I watch two familiar bodies getting out of the car, my body stiffening.
"T-Tomorrow it is then."
"Are you alright? What’s up?"
"Nothing." So many things. "See you tomorrow, gotta rush. Bye!"
"Alright, take care. Bye bye!"
I drop my phone on the bed immediately, watching it bounce at the end of the bed. Damn. I jog towards my washroom, calming myself for a moment. Stripping off the torn, dirty t-shirt, I slip on a more presentable top. I straighten my hair with the help of my fingers, disappointed at the now prominent pimple on my forehead. My hair gets wrapped in a lose hair bun in a few seconds and I pull out a few wavy strands to cover over my bothersome zit.
I detect faint thuds against the wood, unsure of what exactly produced the sound. Puzzled, I walk out of the bath room only to find the boy I've been avoiding but failing almost every time. I examine how he covers his upper body with a black plain T, the shirt having a top cut low. His tattoos peeking out, his cross necklace making the view much more breathtaking. His jeans ripped in a circle around his knees and his wicked smirk screamed nothing but trouble. He is nothing but trouble.
"What's your pass code?" Harry's gaze switches to me from the phone in his hand.
"What?" I should be angry at his presence but it is replaced with satisfaction. But then the fact that the phone in his hand is my property took him only seconds to get on my nerves.
"Give it back!" I stride towards the smiling boy. He increase the distance between us by stepping backward, gaze focused on the screen of my phone.
"Of course it’s '4321." He muses at me, "So smart." I knew my passcode was as simple as a piece of a bloody cake. I could have changed it in the first place. He has my phone, my unlocked phone.
"Harry! I swear to God give it back or..." He slides across from me, his chest brushing mine; i thrill flowing down my spine.
"Or what?" He cocks an eyebrow from the other side of my bed. His gaze is fixed on my screen and my heart is thumping loudly at the thought of him going through my things. There won't be much but still he is no one to go through my phone like that. Talk about personal space!
"Whats the matter with you, give it back!" He ignores my whining, too focused on something he is digging out of my phone. He was too fast to be my catch, literally.
"So you did call me." He glimpse at me, a teasing smirk curving on his lips. My cheeks lingering with heat for a reason that is unknown to me.
"Iris was messing with my phone." I lie.
"Darling, if you keep your pass code this simple anyone can." He bought my lie, relief washing through my senses.
"Why don't you hand to me so I can replace it with a tougher one?" I offer, decreasing the distance between us only to make him step backwards. His height was aggravating and so was his bloody attitude changes.
"Not so easy, Chandler." I watch him slide my phone into his back pocket jeans. "It would be a shame not to take an advantage of this exceptional situation."
"Real fun, Styles. Hand it back."
"One condition."
"Make it quick."
"Come." He reaches down for my hand but I involuntarily pull away making him inhale deeply. I'm not sure what infuriates him so much, he should have knowledge of his limits. I follow the towering male, his hand above the pocket which hid my phone; blocking my attempt in pulling it out.
I follow the man out of the room and downstairs, sound of our step echoing simultaneously. My mind is furious at me for obeying his actions without a fight and for also not learning my lesson after multiple negative results.
He leads me towards our main door, making me question about the situation. But I decide against protesting or any other inquiring with him because my phone is this boy’s hand. Gosh he is such an idiot!
He stops by his black car
"Get in." I stop at his words, watching him casually walk towards the driver’s seat.
"Why? No!" I walk towards him, his causality never ceasing to confuse and enrage me.
"Indiana. Please. Stop making this harder for me and. Get. In." I blink. "For your phones sake. I swear I won't be rude; it will be different this time. Just sit!" He points at the door, quickly finishing his sentence.
I stare at my feet as I make my way towards the other side of the car. Noticing how that will to fight against his decisions and order is absent. How the same thoughts are repeating his words and making me believing in them. 'It will be different this time.'
"It's Indie, alright?" I almost climb up his car, slamming the door shut in the process. I’m displeased for being a push-over and irritated at Harry for being so persuasive.
"Alright, princess." I narrow my eyes at him, frowning at the same time. “Hey, cheer the hell up, you persistent butter cup!”
“Wow, real nice. Real different, Styles.”
“Look you weren't making any difference either so we’re both on blame.”
“You are the one always being disrespect for no reason!” My arms flow up in the air in frustration before falling back down.
“I’m sorry.”
“And then you apologize later only to repeat crap again. Seriously, I’m not falling for it this time. Drop me back.”
“I said I’m sorry, ok.” His voice rise from its normal tune I’m used to and I jump before recovering. “Fuck, I’m sorry.” I stare at the yellow lines printed on the tarmac of the road, bewildered by his bizarre reaction. My eyes wanted to gaze at him, to study his expression so I can get a clue on his next attitude but I felt nothing but petrified for a while. My mind does his job in the silence; it throws ridiculous thoughts and ideas. My subconscious warning me that he can maybe take advantage of my unguarded and weak self but I can’t seem to believe them. As ironic as it seems, he has somehow gained a little part of my trust.
After a few minutes Harry parks the car on the side of the tarmac, killing the engine after. I note a click sound which signs that he undid his belt and I hastily do the same. The beauty of the blue sky is slowly fading due to the dark clouds covering, signaling heavy rainfall. The temperature has dropped in the absence of the warm sun, the cool breeze making goose pimple pop on my skin. But I oddly liked it. There was too much tension in the air, the cold one feels much, much better.
Harry guides us towards Caffè Nero, a thrill rushes up my nerves. Harry lets me in first, which seems out of place with the kind of attitude he reflects. It is warm inside only having a couple and group of teenagers.
“Is it alright if we get seated outside?” Harry leans, asking in a low tone. His actions were so unexpected that I had to recover, look around and then lightly nod, sensing heat on my cheeks. He looks at me for a while longer before leading us towards the counter. My eye land on the usual I take when I pass by here but I decide against taking any, it was a tough decision. Harry orders himself a frappé crème, the new coffee and caramel flavored one before turning to me. I refuse to get any, but his hard stare confirmed that he was not going to take no for an answer.
"Anything." I shrug. He looks away, exhales before looking back at me.
"I need a proper answer." Why was he so short tempered and demanding?
I turn towards the man who was certainly entertained by the little talk that we shared. He flicks his eyes back towards the screen when I look at him.
"A caramelatte, please."
Harry answers the final questions and pays for both of our cups. I would have offered, not like he'd listen, but I realize I had not bring cash along. Harry tells the man to serve our coffee outside, he smiles and assures him. To my surprise Harry smiles back at him before leading us outside. The breeze takes no time in engulfing me, a shiver escaping my mouth when it hits my uncovered skin.
"I ordered a fucking frappé." His casual swearing gains my attention so easily. We settle on the table a few steps away from the entrance, settling across from each other. I’m not exactly sure what he desires or what is swirling in his mind. But I want to know, I want him to tell me which only prove my thoughts that ‘yes! He trusts you.’
“Isn't it too cold for a frappe?” He startles me by making in attempt to start a conversation. I had this urge to bring him to the point and reason why he brought me here but his outbreak just gave me sudden cold feet. I look around, pretending to search for an answer but in reality I wanted to tell him at the moment he was ordering that but went against advice, he has no temper really. I nod as an answer for his question. He just stares at me after, trying to make a proper answer come out of me and also reminding his despise for these type of response. But I remain stuck on my reply, not willing to speak anything else.
I slowly press my back on the back of my chair, moving the thin strands of hair tickling the skin off my face. Both elbows settle on each arm rest, and I try to avoid the boy’s gaze.
“You were right.” My gaze flicks to the emerald eyes from the white letters atop. He was observing my reaction but I was successful in not presenting any.
“You brought me here to tell this?” I ask, out of the entire listed questions bursting in my mind.
“Yes,” His lips curve in a ghostly smile. “And to, um, make it up to you. Again.” Before I could make a decision on what emotion to display for him, the waiter breaks me from my daze. He places our coffee on the circular table, flashes a charming smile before rushing inside the café.
I press my palm on each side of the heat radiating cup, feeling slightly warmer than before. I stare at the cup quietly, feeling something grow inside the pit of my stomach after revising what he had just said.
“What do you think? I've never been around fake ass people trying to convince me that they are all I need?” I stay silent. “And I’m grateful that you told me the truth. I mean it fucked my head for one, and made me mad at you and at that moment I couldn't think of anything else but to hurt you back somehow.” My sub-conscious is calling me stupid, laughing at me, and scolding me but right now his raspy voice is the only sound flowing smoothly and peacefully inside my head. It all made sense now. He made sense now.
“So this time, I’m actually apologizing and asking you to pardon be without saying another inconvenient speech. Because I know for that fact that you can obviously not resist this-“ He points to his face with an innocent and shy smile. “Much innocence.” I fight a smile at his words, and his light chuckle confirmed that the huge smile had already reached my face before I could act upon it. But I didn't make an attempt to remove because the smile face that sat right in front of me was nothing but pure bliss.
“You’re not even funny.” I point out.
“I’ll take that as an apology accepted.” He leans forward resting his arms on the table. He takes a long sip of his cold coffee before squeezing his eyes shut. His long, ringed fingers squeeze the skin of his temples and I intensely watch each and every movement of his. “Brain freeze.” Harry squeaks, shaking his head. The ringlets on of his hair flipping in the process, and at that moment I couldn't help but smile to myself how young and fragile he looked. A part I’d never get the privilege to peek in.
“FYI, Styles.” I gain his attention. “You need a brain for that. Don’t over react.”
“I’m a guy with feelings.” He keeps a hand to his chest. I open my mouth to say my comeback but he burst instead. “And brains.” I fell in a fit of laughter and he just watches me, laughing to himself. And for the first time I felt like there was something. Something different that I've never felt with him or in my life I guess.
-
The rest of the time was spent in uselessly insulting each other, him not making any major moves that expected him yet. I expected him to blow all this up again and ridiculously prepared myself to finish it once and for all with whatever this was. But he did not, not even once did he throw a remark or statement at me that actually hit my feelings.
The ride was silent for a while before he asked me what car I possessed. He was astonished by my interest in different vehicles, vintage to be exact. He explained me how to look for the best and by my dismay, he actually praised me for my choice. And for the first time I felt like someone is actually trying to know me.
He parks his car at his previous place, fishing for inside his pocket for something. He pulls out a phone which disappointingly wasn't mine. He scrolls through it for a few and debate whether on getting off or not before getting reminded that this boy has my phone in custody anyway.
I place my palm in front him, referring to his pocket. He flicks his gaze from my palm to my face and then back at my palm before slapping it with his own. I narrow my eyes at the grinning male who was certainly feeling too playful today.
“I’ll hand you the phone, but there is one more condition you have to listen to.” I brush his sentence off, watching as he lifts his hips up to retrieve the device secure beneath him. He places the device on my hand.
“Keep a tougher one, you genius.” He chuckles. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow night.”
“Pardon?”
“I’m taking you for dinner. Be ready.” Oh, not again darling.
“I can’t, thank you for the coffee and all.” I rush my words, turning over to the door before there is a click sound signaling that the door around are now locked and in control of the boy settled on the driver’s seat. I make a fail attempt to open the door but it wouldn’t budge a single meter. I turn towards the already smirking boy.
“Unlock the door.”
“Not so fast, Chandler.” He rasps. “I won’t until you’re convinced for tomorrow.”
I stare at him blankly; he looks down at me smiling goofily more than a million described feeling rushing inside me like a bloody hurricane at his statement. I was confused, I was angry and then we had a part of me that was willing to accept. I debate inside my head, watching the boy’s hopeful grin. I opt with the idea of confirming him now so he could let me go and making up an excuse tomorrow.
“Alright, fine! Now unlock.”
“If you believe that you’d get away with this, Miss Chandler, by simply lying to me than I must say you’re wrong.” His voice was humorless, signaling his seriousness. “So your parents aren't home, right?” The way he sounded, and the way he looked at me was hostile. A serious damned chill running up my spine, filing every nerve in its way with fear. I don’t exactly understand what he is referring to and I can’t seem to comprehend why he would threat me. Or maybe he’s just joking, nut head.
“Fine, what time?” I give up.
“Good girl.” He smirks at his success. “Is eight fine with you?”
“Nothing is.” I grumble under my breath. Why is he so dominant? Why can’t I comprehend this man?
“Pardon?”
“Sure. Unlock. Now.” I sternly spoke, surprised by my own twist in mood. He chuckles, looking at me. The click sound relives me from the tension I had. I hope out of the car and without a look behind and walk off to my house with rapidly beating heart and heated cheeks.
EVERYONE IS GOING TO WWA AND YOU'RE SETTING HERE WATCHING THE VINES LIKE oh ok .-. ily guys.
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