July
HARRY STYLES
For a guy who had never been in a relationship and couldn't fathom the idea of settling down in one either, I very rarely enjoyed being alone. In fact, I more often hated it. I loved my house and I worked hard for it, but I couldn't stand when it was quiet enough that I could hear the leaves rustling in the trees in my backyard, or the A/C when it randomly kicked on to pump cool air through my vents.
I hated having a bed to myself just as much as I hated waking up next to someone, having to navigate through the awkward conversation of asking them to leave or waiting for them to get the hint. I hated when women had expectations of me, like just because we fucked we are somehow obligated to "see where it goes".
What I loved, however, was having my house full of people having a good time and the excitement of potentially finding someone to spend my night with. It was the flirting that I liked the most, when I could tell a woman was interested, and when it was easy to make her blush. I guess it was validating.
"H! This one's for you, c'mere!"
Through the haze in the living room, I made my way to the kitchen where Sam was calling out my name. There was a messy line of coke cut on the marble counter, to which he gestured and said he was saving it just for me.
"What, is it laced or something?" I laughed, setting my whiskey glass down.
Sam shot me a look. "Yeah, it's laced. Just take it, c'mon."
I stole the rolled-up hundred-dollar bill from him to lean over the counter and inhale the white powder, sniffling deeply as I stood upright and swallowed. Sam clapped for me as if this wasn't something we did just about every weekend, and a blonde close by asked me if that was my first time. Sam cracked up laughing at the thought, but I just decided to play dumb. She was pretty enough.
"It was," I reached for my glass and stepped closer to her. "What should I expect to feel?"
She squinted her blue eyes at me as she thought about it. "You'll probably feel happy, super energetic, and...excited."
On the last word, she trailed her middle finger from my sternum down to my belt buckle with a little smirk on her pink lips. I guess I wasn't going to have to try all that hard tonight after all.
"What's your name," I asked.
"Blair," she said, sipping what smelled like vodka from her cup, "and you're...H?"
I nodded. "You wanna go upstairs?"
Her curious smile grew as she glanced around the kitchen. "Are we allowed?"
I realized then that she had no idea she was standing in my house, which would only work out in my favor. If she didn't think we were allowed to have sex in one of the rooms, surely she wouldn't try to sleep over.
"I think it'll be fine," I downed the last of my drink, waiting for her to do the same as she let me take her hand. Molly was the only one who seemed to notice as we made our way up the stairs, shaking her head in disappointment with an amused smile on her face.
"God, this house is so nice," Blair mumbled as I took her down to my room, and she didn't question why I was so confident about it when this place wasn't supposed to be mine.
"Yeah, it's alright," I pushed the door closed, and for whatever reason, the slamming sound seemed to kickstart the drugs in my system.
Blair's laugh was muffled on my lips as I kissed her up against the door, holding her waist over her tight green dress. But as I squeezed, she sighed out a moan and gripped my t-shirt to bring me closer to her. I could taste the bitter vodka on her tongue as she messily lapped it over mine, and my heart was racing even though I wasn't quite as excited as she assured me I would be.
