A Shot of Reality [Harry Styles]

XI. Moirai

A/N: Hello there lovely readers! Nothing much to say (which I might add happens a lot) but I just wanted to thank you for the billionth time for reading and leaving such lovely comments. I have such high goals for this story, and I'm hoping you guys will keep being so awesome so I can continue with it. (P.S- A little greek mythology in a chapter title never hurt anyone.)

January 24th, 2012

"What's this thing called again? Debut? Debate?" Harry shouted from my futon, portraying the typical boy card very well as he flipped through a Sports Illustrated Magazine.

"Debutante, Harry; Deb·u·tante," I shouted back frustratingly from my closet as I desperately attempted to tie the back of my dress but my Rapunzel-esque hair wasn't having it.

My dress was beautiful, silver beaded along the breast area with jade gems embezzled into the sweetheart neckline, with simple white chiffon flowing down to my soon to be silver strapped feet.

Everything would've been fine if this beautiful, hundreds pound dress ever decided to cooperate with my body. It somehow managed to wave and tangle within the ribbon of my dress, making it all the more difficult in my limited amount of time.

"Fuck," I whispered lowly to myself as my bow undid out of my grasp.

"Language!" Harry's condescending warning echoed throughout the closet.

"Piss off Harry, I need help," I whined, my fingers failing at tying the ribbon again.

The closet door soon creaked after, signaling Harry's much needed arrival. But he didn't move an inch after, the plush carpet wasn't broken into and the ribbon remained as undid as it was minutes before. I suddenly got very exasperated: didn't he know I was already stressed about the time, or lack thereof?

"Harry!" I shouted as I clung to my loose dress, turning my head to look at what could possibly hold him up.

He was simply and idly staring, his green eyes scanning up and over every blemish on my bare back. A funny, sort of odd feeling stirred up inside me when he did that, almost like I wanted him to keep doing it. This indescribable emotion was held off, as I yelled at him once more.

"I need you to help, not to stare."

Right as my sharp yet somewhat false words were said, he seemed to snap out of it, nodding his head slightly at my demand.

"Okay, okay..."

He quietly walked close towards me, so much so that I felt his hot, minty breath beating on my shoulder as his fingers danced and twirled with the ribbon delicately along the ridge of my back. This mere interaction of skin sent me into that peculiar frenzy I felt just seconds before, and it was even stronger when I felt his fingers burn into my back rather than a stare.

He looped each strand of ivory ribbon into its corresponding loop, and with each loop his fingers slowed to touch my skin once more. He dragged his finger down to the small of my back, and up at the nape of my neck. It felt odd, having his one hand grazing down my back while the other laced his fingers with my suddenly shaky ones. But it was oddly pleasant at the same time.

I never felt like this around Harry before. I never felt such anxiety and calmness in one atmosphere, and I never craved someone's touch more in my life than his right at this moment. My breath hitched in my throat as his fingers brushed across a cool spot, and I could tell he sensed it by the way his curls tickled my neck as he spoke into my ear:

"You're so beautiful."

In that instant, my worries were put on the back burner and my appreciation and adoration for him was all that was etched into my thoughts. I gripped his wandering hand with my own, turning around to face him.