~Harry~

I stood in front of my stove the next morning, flipping flapjacks. The storm had gone on for most of the night, but Cassidy had been out like a light. Now, it was sunny out, though there were hundreds of downed trees and dozens of downed power lines.

I was such an idiot. Why did I have to go ahead and play that song for her? Way to be subtle Harry. She probably knew it was about her; she was smart.

It had been a split second decision, though I’m pretty sure I’d freaked her out when I’d looked at her intently last night, after the song finished.

I’d been working on that song since I saw her in her window that very first time. She’d just been so graceful, so unflawed, and I knew that I wanted her, from that point on. I don’t know why I hadn’t stopped trying after I found out that she was off-limits. Once I’d gotten started, it was though I just couldn’t stop, no matter how much I tried.

I didn’t try very hard though.

It was odd seeing her look so scared last night. I’d never really seen that side of her before, but it was nice to see, showing me that she did have feelings, that she wasn’t just a robot. It made me think: if she was capable of being scared, was she capable of falling in love?

What the fuck, Harry? I’m so desperate.

Why do I not hate on her? I swore that she was replaceable, she was nothing special, and I could easily find someone new, someone more willing to be with me. This wasn’t just about the chase. I genuinely liked this girl, and usually swearing turned me off, but on her, it was just so goddamn sexy.

Last night, while I was playing for her, she had the duvet of the bed wrapped around her body, and I couldn’t help but to imagine what it would be like if she were naked under the blanket.

Needless to say, I was glad that I currently had the guitar on my lap.

Once she’d fallen asleep, I didn’t dare make a move. Instead, I’d brought my guitar back to my room and fallen on the bed, passing out. The storm didn’t even keep me awake one bit.

I opened the window of the kitchen, letting sunlight stream in, and ran my hand through my hair, messing it up a bit. My chest and feet were bare; I only wore sweatpants.

Just then, a small yawn sounded from the doorway behind me. I turned around, holding a plate, only to find Cassidy standing there. She wasn’t too tall or too short; just average, maybe about five feet and seven inches. Of course, being next to me, I dwarfed her by quite a bit.

She’d looked so sexy yesterday. I was so embarrassed when she caught me staring at her at the beginning of our evening. And then that bloke had grabbed her at the bar. I’d been going to check on her, and then I’d seen him lash out at her wrist, and all I knew was that I needed to do something.

Why had I said that she was taken? Of all things, I’d had to go ahead and make the bastard think I was her boyfriend. What the fuck?

I was stupid.

“Morning,” I rasped, and then cleared my throat looking away and trying not to get hard.

Her hair was a complete mess atop her head, all knotty, her—or was it my?—t-shirt had ridden up, exposing some of her stomach, and her feet were bare. She pulled her hair out of the ponytail and combed through it with her fingers, eventually making it less messy.

Why was I getting hard over that? Seriously.

“Hi,” she whispered, avoiding my gaze.

I was pretty sure that she was embarrassed, since last night she’d shown me her vulnerable side. She slowly padded over to me, looking down at the floor.

She grabbed a plate from the counter and held it out. I chuckled, mounting a few pancakes on it for her, and she crossed to the fridge to get the syrup. For a few moments, we were quiet, and it pained me. I was about to break the silence, when suddenly, she piped up.

“I didn’t know you sang,” she said quietly, so quiet that I almost didn’t hear her. I tilted my head towards her, hoping that this would improve my chances of hearing her.

“Um, well, I do,” I told her, my voice slightly hoarse, and I mentally face-palmed.

That was actually the best I could come up with? This is a sad, sad day.

“Yeah,” she simply replied, shrugging her shoulders.

Deciding to press for a bit more out of her, I interrogated, “Did you like the song?”

She turned to look at me, momentarily stopping slathering the syrup all over her pancakes. Her eyes flitted back and forth between me and the scene behind me, looking caught and panicked. I almost held up my hands and comforted her by saying that she didn’t have to answer the question, but she replied to it before I could do so.

She shrugged, “It was okay.”

For some reason, I split into a large grin, turning away before she could see any evidence of proudness or smugness on my face. The last thing I needed was for her to freak out on me because I was being a smug asshole.

I continued to flip pancakes in silence as she rustled through the cupboards for a cup. Finally she found one, and opened the fridge again to pull out the orange juice.

“So,” she said whilst doing so, “Did you write that song for your girlfriend?”

I tensed, wondering how to word this and trying to analyze how her reaction would play out.

Eventually, I just shrugged, and forced a chuckled out of my mouth, “Something like that.”

From the corner of my eye, I saw her nod. God, why was she so damn beautiful? Why was she so grouchy towards me? All I wanted was to spend time with her without fighting, without being yelled at, and maybe to share a kiss or two. Fuck, was that really so much to ask? I wanted all of that in reality, not in fantasies.

“Does she know that you cheated on her?” Cassidy’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts, and without warning, I banged the pan on the stove, dropping it and turning a knob to turn the appliance off.

I turned to her, angry that she kept going back to my one-night stand.

“You know what?” I said loudly, raising my voice, “Shut up. It’s none of your business. Why do you even care anyways?”

She faced me, a scowl plastered on her face, and her arms crossed over her chest, and I had to remind myself not to let my gaze drift down, “How conceited are you?” she questioned angrily, “I don’t care!”

She turned back around, reaching for the utensils in a drawer, “I don’t,” she said again quietly, almost making it sound like she was talking to herself.

“Well just drop it,” I sneered at her, and she whipped back around, seeming to get angrier by the moment.

Stop it Harry, you’re going to say something horrible and ruin your chances with her forever.

But my mouth wouldn’t meet my brain’s demands, and at the moment, I was too cross to care. This was my personal life, and she didn’t have to poke her nose into that. Granted, I didn’t actually have a girlfriend, but still.

“You can’t tell me what to do,” she fought back, her eyes narrowing.

“Well, you’re a year younger than me, so I can, Cass,” a muscle in her jaw twitched as I called her that. She fisted my t-shirt in her hands, the nickname obviously angering her even further.

“You know what, Styles?” she spit at me, and I gritted my teeth; she knew exactly where to hit me, “Fuck you.”

Her hand came up in a fist, aiming to punch me in the chest, but I blocked it by grabbing it in my own abnormally large hand, my fingers wrapping around her knuckles. In a matter of seconds, I had her pinned in between the counter and me, her back bending over and her eyes looking at me, surprised.

What the fuck could she expect? She saw me punching that bag at the community center. I knew how to defend myself.

I leaned down exceptionally close to her, knowing that she hated it when I did that. I let my hot breath fan her face, watching as the struggled to slip out from my grasp.

“Want to?” I breathed lowly, our noses only centimeters apart. I let my tongue dart out to moisten my lips, and her eyes widened. I think it surprised both of us. I’d never been this forward before.

She clenched her jaw, speaking loudly and disrupting the quiet atmosphere, “Get the fuck away from me.”

I simply shrugged and finally released her stepping back. She watched me warily, slowly standing up straight and pulling down the ridden up t-shirt. The whole ordeal had gotten me semi-hard, and I desperately prayed that she would not notice.

She glared at me, “Don’t ever fucking touch me again.”

I smirked cockily at her, and she made an incoherent screaming noise. Without another word, she pushed past me, abandoning her breakfast. I followed her into the hall, growing annoyed with her, yet so turned on at the same time. It really drove me insane; why did I feel a rush of so many different emotions when I was with her?

“Where are you going?” I asked her, hot on her heels.

Without looking my way, she yelled, “Away from you!”

She grabbed her flats, slipping them on, before disappearing out of my front door.

I stood there, frozen, until finally, I screamed out, “Fuck!”

I pulled at my hair, getting so furious at myself for pushing her again. None of this would have happened if I’d just told her that I’d actually written the song for her, and not for some made-up, imaginary fucking girlfriend.

I sprinted upstairs, my destination being my room. Running along the hall, I finally entered it, and pulled up the blinds on my window, just in time. She entered her own room, frowning, and put her hand to her forehead pacing. I stood there, watching her, making sure that I was half-hidden by my window just in case she decided to look over in my direction.

She rolled her eyes, still pacing, but then crossed her arms over her body, gripping the hem of my Ramones t-shirt, and yanking it up over her body in a second. My mouth went dry and blood rushed to my crotch as I saw her in her black, lacy bra. I was now fully hard, goddammit.

“Shit,” I breathed to myself, letting my eyes wander to the top of her body.

I’d never seen her stomach before; she’d always worn one-pieces to the pool, but I noticed that she was quite fit, as I’d already predicted. Her stomach was toned and flat, her nice, plump breasts giving her an hourglass figure. I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment, wondering if I was really seeing this, before opening them again and internally whooping when I realised that it indeed was reality. Her half naked body greeted me once more.

God, she was so hot, so sexy, so beautiful, and it drove me insane. Why did life have to be a bitch and pin my attraction on the one girl that I wasn’t allowed to have, the one girl that wouldn’t even give me the time of day?

Her hands travelled to the waistband of my sweatpants, and I looked away, feeling loyal to her. I knew that she would hate it if I saw her like that, so exposed and vulnerable, and even though she hated me, I still respected her as a woman.

Granted, I fantasized about her almost every day, but I knew where to draw the line.

I kicked off my own sweatpants and pulled down my boxers, needing to take a cold shower. Inside my bathroom, I noticed that her black dress was still there, piled up in a heap on the floor. I picked it up and held it out, studying it and noting yet again how beautiful she’d looked last night.

I’d accepted it now. I had feelings for Cassidy Kane, and I couldn’t get her out of my system. All previous attempts to do so had failed, had even backfired on me, making me crave her even more, and I was done trying to fight a losing battle.

I held the dress up to my nose, loving how it smelled like her: that same fruity aroma that drove me insane, that I couldn’t get enough of.

I was so completely caught in her trap. It was so sad, liking someone who would never like you back. The worst part?

Knowing that I’d never had a chance with her, yet trying anyways, because that was the stubborn, hard-headed asshole that I was. I wanted her; I wanted her so badly, just to run my hands through her hair, or wrap my arms around her.

I wished I could’ve comforted her last night during the storm. I wished I could’ve slipped into bed with her and wrapped my arms around her hips, maybe press a kiss or two to the nape of her neck, or leave a few marks. It was so aggravating and agonizing, knowing that she hated me, that she didn’t even care about me, yet I was so attracted to her, I’d go out of my way just to catch a glimpse of her.

It fucking sucked, actually.

But I couldn’t find it in myself to stop.

Notes

So, I'm going camping tomorrow. Won't be able to update for a few days, sorry :(

But I hope you liked this chapter! Even more drama is coming soon, trust me! I really liked the comments and votes I received based on the last chapter, can we keep those up? Thank you :)

Random fact: It takes 100 litres of tree sap to make 1 litre of maple syrup.

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~Stay cool~