favorite crime [h.s]

thirty three

Harry's apartment is quiet and cold when I first step into it. We parted ways with the boys as they all went into their own homes. My mouth was faster than my brain when I asked Harry to stay at his place, because I have no idea what to do now.

"It's almost four AM, you can go to sleep if you want." He speaks from behind me, taking off his shoes by the entrance.

"Yeah, I'm kinda tired," I agree, awkwardly looking around his living room. The drapes aren't closed and there's only a soft lamp shining from the counter in the corner. I see our reflection in his massive windows like a mirror but notice the city lights when I carefully focus on them.

"You can sleep in the guest room, I put some clothes for you on the bed." His voice almost startles me given how deep I was thinking.

I spin around to see him walk out of the room which I assume is the guest room. It's right next to his own bedroom.

"Thank you," I murmur. I waste no time and already walk into the room and shut the door behind me.

It's just a bit smaller than his own, and less things are placed around the room. I immediately see the pile of clothes on the comfortable bed, grey sweatpants and a black shirt of his. It's weird to think I've been wearing my black party dress all this time, and I can't wait to get out of it.

Once they're settled on my body, I realise how big they actually are. The shirt is fine but my legs are too short for the pants and they don't fit around my hips. I quietly laugh to myself in thought of how ridiculous I must be looking, with my hands having to hold the band of his pants to not have them fall.

Not caring about my appearance, I leave the room, intending to grab a glass of water from the kitchen. I lean my hip against the counter as I quietly provide my dry throat with liquid.

"Alison, can you come into the bathroom?" Harry calls me, and I set the empty glass down.

I follow the little light which peaks through the gap of the door which I assume leads to the bathroom.

"What is it?" I ask, joining his side but not understanding why he needs me here.

He turns his head to look at me, an amused smile arising on his face from the sight of me in his way-too-big clothes.

"Wow, they fit," He chuckles, leaning one hand against the edge of the counter.

"They don't," I protest defensively, glancing down at my legs to show how his pants are a messy puddle by my feet.

He laughs, "You're just a bit too little for my things."

"I'm not too little, you're just tall," I joke along, not fighting against the joyful smile.

"Right, midget," He teases, playfully rolling his eyes.

"Was that why you needed me here? So you can bully me?" I cross my arms in front of my chest in cheeky defense.

"No, that was just a bonus," he chuckles. "I still need to clean your cut." His words make the conversation take a serious turn again. "I'm no doctor but I can clean it with some alcohol."

"Okay." I nod, appreciating that he wants to do that.

"Great, then jump onto the counter." I do as he said and turn my back to the counter behind me so my hands can grab the edge and I can easily pull myself up.

Before my plan can happen, he's already grabbed my hips and lifted me on top of the counter. My ass lands on the hard surface and I stare at him with parted lips in surprise.

"Just accept it, you're small," He mumbles casually as if he noticed my gaze without looking. He's too busy preparing whatever alcohol he took to realise my glare on him.