Temptress

25 - Cleo | Preparation

"Fuck!"
I could hear Harry cursing in the bathroom even though the tv was on and the door was closed, but this cheap motel room had very thin walls.
We both decided that it was smarter to stay somewhere a bit distanced from the city and unlike what we'd usually get, so this is how we ended up in this very old and very creepy roadside motel.
They only accepted cash, which wasn't a problem since Harry was the one paying for it all.
He had also stolen another car just to be safe, and I honestly had no idea how he did it so quickly, but this time it was a black SUV, and much newer than his previous choice. I wondered if he chose it just in case we needed to escape from somewhere in a rush.
We had spoken the bare minimum and I could tell we were both on edge, this was so damn infuriating.

I even tried to call Niall to distract myself a bit, but he didn't answer his calls or texts.

I wasn't in a bad mood, I was just... disappointed in myself and angry that I couldn't force my mind to completely regret what happened. The small hickeys Harry had left on my breasts, plus the fresh bruises on my neck, were constant reminders of something I would never be able to forget.

Which was how I ended up lying on my small bed as I was watching some old movie I wasn't paying attention to, overthinking about it all.

The hours we spent in the car were awfully silent, and I couldn't bring myself to take a nap because I was too nervous around him. The subject about our parents continued to be avoided and we were just... quiet.

This room also had two beds, and this time they were thankfully apart from each other. I'd taken a shower as soon as we settled in and we ordered some pizza for dinner. My stomach was already protesting because I hadn't eaten anything in eight hours.
I had no idea what was going on between us, but things were tense and hostile and awkward, even though I hadn't threatened to kill him yet.

His words from earlier kept replaying in my head, I hated this... I couldn't let him influence me when I was so fucking conflicted. I felt like shit and at the same time I missed the rush I felt whenever he touched me, which was insane because we had only kissed twice and I was already doomed.

It was the best kiss I'd had, I was convinced this whole intensity was happening because of how forbidden it felt, it would wear out soon. But I blamed this on his fingers... fuck, I blamed him completely.

I had no idea how he so simply managed to separate things and he acted like us wanting to fuck, at the same time that we still hated each other, was something normal. I always gave in too easily when he was involved, I didn't know why and it was dangerous.

This kind of tension had never happened between us before and I wasn't ready for it. I honestly didn't know what to do, my anxiety was getting the best of me.