snitch

27

buckle up babes. you can start the songs when the title is named if that makes sense. 

Stella Flores

You

Your sex is on fire

The wind was knocked out of me as he stood there, on stage, strumming an electric guitar, singing Sex on Fire. My mouth stayed open in shock, goosebumps covering my body. He was dressed in a suit, white dress shirt. The first few buttons were undone, exposing some of his chest.

He is so fucking hot.

I couldn't bear to move a muscle. I'm not joking, I physically couldn't move. His lips were led into a smirk as he sang the lyrics with a slight rasp to them.

Soft lips are open

Them knuckles are pale

Feels like you're dying

You're dying

His eyes stayed on mine the entire time, making my spine shiver. The way his fingers moved, quickly strumming each string to make the perfect sound. Not even mentioning the amazing sound that was exiting his mouth.

How stupid could I be? He told me he writes songs, how could I think he didn't sing?

God watching him perform in those clothes makes me want to ditch the prom and go do another certain activity with him.

He had about a minute long guitar solo before he thrummed the guitar one last, exaggerated time before the music gently fades away. His breathing was heavy as his eyes gazed over the cheering crowd.

I'm sure that did great for his narcissism.

He handed off the white guitar to one of the other guys on stage which I had paid no attention to. His gaze was glued on mine, as he easily walked down the front stairs of the stage.

As soon as he was off the stairs, I lost him in the crowd.

I remained looking ahead, waiting for him to emerge from the sea of horny teeangers. I'm not one to judge, after that performance, I may be included in that sea.

Finally, Harry stood in front of me. His breathing was steadier now, a loose curl dangling over his forehead. His gaze trailed up and down my body, and he let out a small laugh. "Fuck Anise, you've done it again."

I furrow my brows at his monotone comment, making me unsure if it was a compliment or if he thought I looked terrible. "What?"

The same familiar smirk flavored his plump, pink lips. "You can't put words to something that's indescribably beautiful, love." His raspy voice made my fingers tingle.

Did he really think I looked that good?

"Really?" I feel my face grow hot, but my stomach settles when I realize there is purple lighting and he probably couldn't see my red face.

"Baby, you are the most pretty little creature I've ever seen." His large hand grabs my tiny one, intertwining our fingers together. "Don't ever doubt that."

"I have something for you." I release his hand, opening my purse and handing him the flask Isla had given me for him.

He furrows his brows, and twists the canister open, taking a whiff. "Is this straight vodka?" He contains a smile, and I just know that he would down the whole thing in minutes.