Heat - Harry Styles

three

Updating already bc I am really enjoying this story! Don't forget to comment and vote!! Follow me on twitter @StoriedLiv for updates or if you just wanna chat!!! 

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"Hey honeybee," my dad called out from the living room as I entered the house. He had called me honeybee ever since I was a little girl. I definitely went through that angsty middle school phase where I hated to be called that, but now it was something I loved. I found it comforting to know that some things will never change, my nickname included.

"Hey, daddy," I said as I walked into the living room. I leaned over the couch to place a kiss on the top of his head.

"Come sit a spell," he requested. This was an old southern way of asking someone to come sit and chat for a few minutes. It's a phrase my dad employs pretty often.

I complied with his request, sinking into the soft material of the armchair to the left of the sofa.

My dad closed the book he was reading and leaned forward, laying it carefully on the coffee table in front of him. "What have you been up to? You look plumb tuckered out," he observed.

I shrugged, "I've been painting down at the park. It was just especially hot today."

He nodded slowly before speaking. "Now, honeybee, I wanted to talk to you about the little discussion we all had this morning. Your mama and I feel terrible about how things went. It was not our intention to start an argument. We only want what's best for you."

"I know that, Dad. I'm sorry for raising my voice with y'all," I replied. Though I may not always agree with them, I know that my parents are always just doing what they think is best for my future. They are both constantly worried about how all the kids are going to end up. They're terrified of us growing up to live anything less than a perfect life. Because of this, everything they do and say is in an effort to make my life better in the future. I didn't understand this when I was younger but I do now, and it made it hard to stay angry at them.

"That's quite all right, sweetie. Now, why don't you mosey on upstairs and jump in the shower? You're wringing with sweat."

I laughed and complied, peeling my sticky body off the chair. I scurried up the staircase, but not before saying a quick goodnight to my father. "Goodnight, Dad. Send my love to mom!" I called down after me.

The house was actually quiet tonight, something we didn't experience very often. All of my younger siblings were still in school, only a week between themselves and summer vacation. Foster was most likely asleep by this hour and Brooks and Louisa were probably doing homework... or watching Netflix. I padded across the hardwood hallways until reaching my bedroom. I shut the door tightly behind me. My room was simple and elegant. It was decorated with blue and white ginger jars which are definitely a symbol of the South.

I quickly peeled my clothes off and threw them in the laundry hamper, wanting desperately to rinse off the sweat that stuck to my body. I went into my bathroom and turned on my shower, waiting for the water to warm up. While I waited I walked over to the mirror. I couldn't help but be embarrassed at the fact that Harry had seen me in this state. My hair was pulled up into a messy ponytail and my face was shiny with sweat. I looked like I'd just run a marathon.

I finally stepped into the shower, sighing in relief as the warm water flowed over my shoulders and back. I turned so that my face was in the shower stream, letting the water pour over me. Just as I was relaxing I hear the click of the door, signaling that my peace and quiet was being interrupted. I hear someone hop up onto the marble countertop of my bathroom.