~* Bad decisions make great stories *~
A Harry Styles dark romance that explores the intricacies of mental health, morality and sexual attraction. Enter a world of sin, opulence and crime.
*****
It started and ended with the wind.
She was a hurrican...
"So it's all come back round to breaking apart again
Breaking apart like I'm made up of glass again
Making it up behind my back again
Making it afraid for the fear of sleep again
Pushed in deep to bare bone again"
Disintegration - The Cure
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The drive back to Melbourne passes quickly. For some odd reason I always feel like return journeys are somehow inexplicably shorter.
I'll never admit out loud why this particular trip passes in a blur. I find myself spending way too much time attempting to subtly watch Harry drive. The feeling of his lips against mine seems permanently burned into my memory and skin. It's almost annoying how he makes any activity look good; driving being no exception. He has one arm draped casually over the wheel while the other hand rests confidently on my thigh; only leaving occasionally to shift gears.
It seems absurd that it took me so long to notice just how effortlessly attractive Harry truly is. I guess it makes sense; being tied to a chair and stripped of my clothes certainly did nothing to endear him to me in the beginning.
But now I constantly catch myself obsessing over every tiny detail. His hand resting on my leg is large and warm as his long fingers trace unrecognisable patterns on my skin. I lose far too much time mapping the path of his veins and the lines of the tattoos that adorn his hand and forearm with my eyes - all the while wishing I was brave enough to reach out and touch him too.
Unfortunately the drive is not short enough though. For the last half hour the need to pee has become increasingly urgent - now well beyind what I can reasonably ignore - and I'm forced to break the comfortable silence that has settled on the car.
"How much longer til we're home?" We're still travelling country backroads so I'm pretty confident it's further than I can realistically hold on. Humiliation adds the feeling of nausea to my already existing problem.
Harry glances over at me and frowns slightly when he notices my obvious discomfort. "About an hour - what's wrong?" I turn my head to look out the window before I reply. After everything he's helped me through I shouldn't still be this embarassed, but here we are.
"Is there somewhere we could stop for the bathroom?" My attempt at casual nonchalance fails miserably and I cringe internally at the obvious whine in my voice. I hear Harry shift in his seat and somehow resist the temptation to steal a glance at him; paralysing shame freezing me in place.
"I saw a sign for a Bed and Breakfast about ten minutes ahead, is that ok?" His voice is kind and soothing, even if he seems a little reluctant. "Call Eli for me, yeah?" His phone is still in my lap after he allowed me, yet again, to pick what I wanted us to listen to.
