Professor Styles

Chapter 7

After a long and very boring car journey that consisted mainly of Mr Styles sly-eyeing me disapprovingly and him ignoring my drunken speech, we arrive at what is apparently his house. 

I stumble out of his car and would have fallen straight on the floor if it wasn't for his quick movement to hook his arm around my waist and literally pull me up the path and inside his house. I've sobered up since leaving the party but i'm still tipsy. 

 He sighs angrily and hoists me over his shoulder. I squeal in surprise. I'm dropped on a soft sofa-like thing, he sits opposite me with a bottle of beer and slightly leans back as if exausted. My head is spinning so I just sit there and study his face. 

My thoughts run away with my mouth and I speak: "You have sex hair, Mr Styles. It's very attractive." I wink in the most seductive way I can. 

"Oh really?" He smirks full of confidence. "Stop smirking at me." I pout. "And stop loooking at mee like that." His stare is literally making me melt. "Are you blushing?" He smirks even more. 

 I jump excitedly. Like a small child. "You need to go to sleep, come on." He helps me up and leads me into a bedroom. Once I'm in, he exits the room and closes the door slightly. I can hardly walk right now and I just want to party, which is strange for me considering this is the first time I've even been drunk. I take my top off and realise I have no Idea where my shoes are. Bulging with confidence and not even knowing what the hell I'm doing, I stalk out of the room and into the kitchen where Mr Styles is sat. He looks up, eyes becoming hazy. Then I realise I only have a bra and skirt on. "Haarry i thinkk I lost my shhoes." I pout once again like a child. He's silent for a considerable amount of time. 

"What are you fucking trying to do to me? Put your top back on. You're fucking drunk right now and you have no idea what you're doing." He seems angry. 

"Nooo. I don't want to. I'm not drunk anymore, just tipsy." I pout again like a small child and walk closer to him. He jumps up and speaks quickly. 

"Elizabeth you need to go back to bed right fucking now." His voice is deep and raspy, making me want to grab him and snog his face off. What am I saying? This is so unlike me. I walk up to him so we're centimeters apart. I have no idea where this confidence has come from. 

"Elizabeth you need to stop it, right now." His voice is full of authority and professionalism. "Stopp what?" I ask, innocently. 

"Tempting me." He breaths. 

"Ooooh, but maaybe I waant to tempt you." I resort with a confident smile. My newfound confidence surprises both of us. 

"Seriously stop it, Elizabeth. You don't know what you're doing." He leans in closer. I can smell him and dear lord he smells incredible. It's so captivating. And addicting. 

"Don't start something you can't finish." His voice is low, full of lust. 

Without hesitation or even a moment's thought, in my tipsy state and clouded mind I pull him to me and kiss him, hard. My confidence is knocked when he furiously pulls away. 

"What the fuck are you doing Elizabeth? You're drunk." He's trying not to look at me. 

"W-why?" I ask, confused. 

He breathes a heavy sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose. "Because you have no fucking idea how much I want to rip your clothes off." He pauses.  But you're drunk, Elizabeth. I want you to remember it." His voice is strained. Like he's holding everything back. I'm speechless but find myself angry at him for some reason. 

"Why do you always have to be such an ass?" I didn't know what to say so I just went with that, it just came out. 

"Who the FUCK do you think you're talking to?" His voice is getting angrier and his eyes are turning darker.