Abducted By Styles [IN RE-EDITING]

• T W E N T Y - T W O • (Pt.2)

SONG FOR THIS CHAPTER- ONE AND ONLY by ADELE

C A R O L I N E

Harry says goodbye to his mother and takes my hand again. We walk past the rows and rows of tombstones again and leave the cemetery. Harry looks down at his watch.

"We're up wayyyy past your bedtime." He laughs melodically, shaking his head. As he finds teasing me amusing, I find it annoying...and a little cute.

"Oh shut up. I'm nineteen...going on twenty, and legal. I don't have a bedtime." I roll my eyes, although my curfew is really 10:30pm. And it's way past that.

"Whatever you say, Princess." Harry plays along, although I'm sure he knows that I have a curfew. All princesses do.

We continue walking, but all I'm doing is following Harry through the side of the main road. Only a few cars with no headlights pass by time to time, and thankfully no one recognizes me under Harry's nice smelling coat. Speaking of which, I don't know where he's going either.

"Are we going back to the castle now?" I yawn lightly.

"Well are you tired? Should we call it a day?" He asks, tracing little circles on my hand while holding it.

I shake my head.

"Good, because there's a special place I want to show you." That's all he says, before leading me into a dark alley, the streetlights half burnt out. I follow silently, and Harry stops in front of a rusty old motel called 'Str Desmond'- the 'a' from 'star' is burnt out. 

"Why are we at a motel?" I ask Harry nervously and he laughs as he holds the dingy door open for me.

"Oh, Princess, we're not staying the night." Suddenly, I feel foolish for thinking that. But what else do you do at a motel?

At the front desk, there is a chubby old lady with curly black hair sipping  from a travel mug. When Harry rests his arm on the desk, she looks up and stands.

"Oh, hello Mr. Styles. Your father just left a few hours ago after checking in on the place." She informs him. What is this? Harry's father? Checking in on a rusty old motel? I don't understand.

Harry laughs. "Betty, I told you so many times, call me Harry. I don't even deserve the standard of 'Mr. Styles'. It's not like this shitty place is a five star hotel."

Now I'm confused. Does Harry own this motel? Why is that lady calling him Mr.Styles?

Finally, the lady- Harry called her Betty, looks over at me and her eyes widen in surprise.

"Who is this young lady you've got here?" Betty winks at Harry and he blushes. Does she seriously not recognize me? As much as that confuses me, a surge of relief courses through me. 

"She's my friend...uh...Kate!" Harry answers her and motions me to play along with it.

I shake Betty's hand. "Hi, nice to meet you."

She flashes a bright smile at me with her coffee-stained teeth. "My name's Betty. You sure are lucky to have yourself such a handsome lad here." She winks at me also. I feel my cheeks get warmer, when Harry's and my eyes meet.

"Betty, can you give me the key to my room please?" Harry asks her. 

"Sure thing, sweet-cheeks." With that, she takes a rusty key from a yellow envelope and hands it too Harry.

"Have a pleasurable time." Betty winks at us, and Harry is blushing like a tomato. Now I know what Betty thinks: She thinks we're going to have sexy time. Oh god, oh god, oh god.