Matching Rings [h.s]

43

POV: HARRY STYLES

"Calm the fuck down, I'm coming!" I complain as the irritating banging from behind the door got louder as I approach it.

I was covered in a very thin coat of sweat that was almost hard to notice, my hair an absolute mess and only wearing a pair of black sweats that I put on quickly before coming down here. They sat low on my hips, displaying the fern tattoos just above my V line.

I intake a deep breath through my nose, trying to regain back some of my sanity so that I don't seem in outer space. My calmly palms run through my hair before going to the knob and pulling open— the knocking still being very thunderous.

"Bloody fucking hell, you ever heard of being patient?" I say very displeased once I come face to face with the two guys.

On the other side of my front door stood Liam and Zayn, both holding one plastic bag each with what I assume was the food they brought us.

Liam was in the same colored sweats as I was with a plain white T- shirt, looking like he just rolled out of bed— though I know he probably went to school like that.

Zayn on the other hand looked much more pleasant, with that same leather jacket he wore almost daily since he got it, a white shirt underneath, and black jeans.

"Nope." Zayn deadpans, pushing me aside and walking straight into my apartment.

They both come by so often now, ever since Baylin had been staying with me they're here practically everyday. They've become very comfortable around me, even Liam. Which I find quite ironic considering the guy seemed to hate my guts ever since the day he met me.

My eyes follow Zayn as he walks into my apartment, completely ignore the fact that I looked hazed and a bit sweaty.

I was still in an utter brain high over going down on Baylin, I could still taste her on my lips. She was upstairs recovering, probably hopping in the bathroom to take a quick shower by now.

Thinking of her in the shower brought me back to last night— I can't seem to shake the image of her coming while I had that shower head between her legs or how her fingers stroked along my dick.

Or even just now, having her all to myself like that. Her scratching down my chest while dry riding me, the taste of how wet she was after seeing me come for her.

God she's fucking hot.

I turned back around to face Liam, who was still standing on the outside of my apartment. He hadn't walked in yet, unlike Zayn who was now making himself comfortable on one of the kitchen island stools and fixing his own portion of the food they brought.

I didn't think that they heard when Baylin screamed my name, considering how Zayn just bolted into my apartment no question asked about the noise.

But when I met eyes with Liam... I wasn't so sure.

"You can come in mate." I say awkwardly since Liam was still standing blankly outside my apartment.

As Liam walked past me, his eyes dropped low, gawking directly at my bare chest with wide eyes, he was clearly trying to mask over his brought back expression.

My first thought was he was looking at my chest or maybe admiring my tattoos since I didn't feel the need to put a shirt on before coming down here. This is my house, and for all they knew I just woke up.

Since my attention was on my chest, I felt the stinging of the scratches Baylin left me. Somehow I managed to forget that they were there.

They were very red, multiple straight lines going down my torso— it was obvious what kind of scratches they were. Even easy to tell that she would have had to be on top of them while making them.